Captain's Lady

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Captain's Lady Page 5

by Jamaila Brinkley


  But now it was time to focus on other things and tear her unruly mind away from the potential sleeping arrangements when they arrived. Really, she had much more pressing concerns. The carriage rolled ponderously through the village, where she saw people glance up curiously. She sat back against the seat abruptly and glanced at her sister, who was dozing.

  “Alicia.”

  “Mmf.”

  “Alicia. We’re almost there.” Kate touched her sister’s shoulder and was rewarded by a slap on the hand. “Ow.”

  “Buh? Oh. I’m sorry,” Alicia said, rubbing sleep away from her eyes and not sounding particularly sorry. “You know I hate to be shaken awake.”

  “I thought you might like to be conscious for our arrival,” Kate said, repressing her own annoyance.

  Alicia leaned forward to peer out the window. “Is that the keep?”

  Kate leaned forward too, her head bumping against her sister’s like two children ogling a sweet shop. “Yes, I believe so.”

  Heads still together, they fell silent and watched the keep rise up in their vision until it dwarfed everything else, and they were pulling into the courtyard. Kate stayed leaning against her sister for an extra moment or two, drawing reassurance from the familiar warmth of Alicia’s body. How quickly their lives were changing. She felt as though she were falling into some nebulous future and she wondered if her first step out of the carriage would be a hard landing or a further fall. She wasn’t sure which was preferable.

  Finally, Alicia sighed and moved away. “I suppose it’s time.” The carriage had stopped, and the jovial shouts and thumps outside indicated that greetings were underway.

  Kate squeezed her sister’s hand. “It’s the right choice, Alicia.”

  Alicia’s hand remained limp in hers for a moment, then Kate felt the slender fingers curl around her own. Alicia’s hand was chill, though the weather was perfectly pleasant. “Thank you for helping,” she said quietly.

  The door opened before they could say anything further, and Jack peered in. His face was nearly expressionless for a moment as he glanced quickly around the interior of the carriage. He was checking for damages, Kate realized, and suppressed a hysterical laugh. His face relaxed when his gaze landed on her, and she found herself nodding at him. Whether it was to reassure him or herself, she had no idea.

  “Are you ready?” he asked.

  “Not at all.”

  “That’s my girl,” he said and reached a hand in to assist her down the steps.

  She stayed close to Jack as he handed Alicia out of the carriage, tucking herself in against his back like he was a windbreak on the moors. He offered an elbow to each of them and they made their way to the front door, where a handsome couple stood waiting for them.

  The Earl of Kilgoran was a large man, with a presence that made Kate want to shrink back against Jack. He had thick black hair tied back into a neat queue, hooded green eyes, and a square jaw that was slashed by a dramatic scar across his chin. He fairly exuded power. This was the battle-mage that Jack had grown up with. She found it hard to imagine easygoing, charming Jack Boone trading jokes with this intimidating man, but something warmed in the Earl’s eyes when he rested them on his old friend, and she found the courage to keep her feet moving forward.

  Her effort was assisted by her first glimpse at the Countess of Kilgoran, a short, curvy woman whose face reflected only kindness and gentle interest. The Countess came forward first, stretching out her hands to greet Jack. Her eyes flickered greenish gray under masses of auburn hair, her smile open and welcoming.

  “Jack,” she said. “How delightful to see you. And with very nearly something that might even be considered advance notice!” She embraced him, then turned to Kate with a twinkle in her eye. “The Edgebourne men have a marked tendency to ignore the niceties of sending word, I’m afraid,” she said. “You must be our newest recruit.”

  “Recruit?” Kate had meant to say something elegant and Lady Rothwell-like in greeting. Oops.

  “In the battle to reform them,” the Countess said, sliding her gaze toward her husband, who was greeting Jack with a hearty handshake.

  “I, er . . .” Her first interaction as a viscountess was going remarkably well, obviously.

  “Please, won’t you come in? Jack did send word you were coming and of your marriage, but his description of the circumstances was remarkably vague, unsurprisingly.”

  “There’s only so much information one can fit in a magical message,” Jack protested, approaching to detach Kate’s hand from the Countess’ and replace it on his arm.

  “Really? Because the Duchess can send recipes for an entire banquet plus a classified report in one,” the Countess said mildly.

  “Are we having a banquet?” asked her husband.

  Kate caught Alicia’s hand in her own as they were led inside by the Earl and Countess. She wasn’t sure who clutched whose hand harder, but Jack’s arm under her other hand was for once not as comforting as she’d expected. His friends exchanged recipes with duchesses? He’d been raised by one, she remembered. She was beginning to think she was in over her head, viscountess or no.

  ~ ~ ~

  “Have I had a chance to express my felicitations yet?” Duncan asked Jack as they watched Fiona and Kate confer over the direction of the luggage and the servants.

  “Please, get it over with,” Jack said. “You can’t possibly be more smug than Bradley was.”

  “Oh, I think I can,” said his friend with a grin.

  “Far be it from me to correct you.”

  “Are you going to tell us what happened? Is she—”

  “No, she isn’t,” Jack cut him off. “Please don’t speculate about my wife.” He was surprised at the flicker of annoyance he felt at Duncan’s raised eyebrow.

  “I won’t, then, but I’d like some disclosure,” Duncan said gently. “You’ve brought us some surprises, I think, and I need to know how it will affect my family.”

  The steel behind his quiet words reminded Jack again that there were vast swaths of society justly terrified of this man and the damage he could wreak with his anger. While he’d mastered self-control in the years he’d spent alongside Jack and Thomas in the Edgebourne household, it hadn’t been until he married Fiona that Duncan had really relaxed his vigilance against himself. The Countess of Kilgoran was a truly terrifying witch in her own right, and Jack suspected she had the power to put even Duncan flat on his back if she wanted to. With or without magic, actually.

  “I’ll tell all,” he said. “But it’s not all entirely mine to tell, so let’s get settled and have the ladies join us.”

  “I think the arrangements have been made.” Duncan gestured to where a trail of servants was disappearing up the stairs. They moved to join the ladies.

  “Do you want to, er, freshen up?” Jack asked Kate.

  She glanced at Alicia, then shook her head. “Let’s talk first. I think we should tell them why we’re here.”

  “You mean you didn’t come here for the magic and romance of it all? I’m hurt,” Duncan teased, bringing a reluctant smile to Kate’s face. It was the first true smile Jack had seen on her all day, and he stifled a sudden, light-headed feeling of jealousy that he hadn’t been the one to draw it out.

  “The parlor or the library?” he asked, setting a hand at Kate’s waist and enjoying the feel of her smooth skirts.

  “Parlor, please,” Fiona said.

  He guided Kate into the room, gesturing Alicia to come with them. He glanced around, pursing his lips, and then tugged his bride toward a chaise they’d both fit in. She raised an eyebrow at him but followed his lead, and Alicia settled herself into the chair next to them, smoothing her skirts with hands that seemed too thin.

  “Tea?” Fiona reached for the bell without waiting for them to answe
r.

  “Thank you,” Kate said.

  “So. Tell us everything,” Duncan said, a hint of command in his voice.

  Jack noted with interest that both Kate and Alicia bristled slightly. Most people obeyed the Earl of Kilgoran’s command voice without thinking. It stood to reason that Alicia’s magic made her resistant, but Kate’s resistance seemed borne of sheer stubbornness. He found that he liked that about her.

  “Try not to order everyone around,” Fiona murmured to her husband. “Congratulations are in order, remember?” She set a hand on his knee, and Jack saw Duncan defuse his magic into the stone floor so quickly he might have missed it if he hadn’t known what to look for.

  “Thank you,” Jack said. “Kate, do you want to . . .?”

  She sighed. “Alicia, may I?”

  The youngest Ashe scowled. “You might as well.” She suddenly found herself the target of both the Earl and Countess’ unwavering attention. “What?” Jack exchanged glances with Kate as the air thickened abruptly.

  “Alicia.”

  Kate’s warning tone made her sister roll her eyes, but the swirling magic in the room began to dissipate as Alicia calmed, and a subtle movement made Jack realize that the Countess had just stopped firmly pinching her husband’s arm.

  “Well,” Fiona said. “It seems the circumstances of your marriage are a little . . . extra complicated, yes?”

  “You have no idea,” Kate said.

  Chapter 8

  “It’s my decision,” Alicia said. “I’m not changing my mind.”

  “But if we knew who he was.” Kate could feel her frustration bleeding through into her voice, making Alicia scowl more.

  “Never mind, Kate,” Jack said. “There’s no sense in dwelling on it.”

  “I agree,” Fiona said. “While I’ve come to appreciate marriage—” She smiled at her husband, and Kate saw a reflection of something warm pass between them. “I don’t personally think it’s the most necessary thing in the world. There was a time I had no intention of marrying, actually.”

  “And then there’s your mother.” Duncan chuckled.

  Fiona grinned. “She lives in sin.”

  “Revels in it, last I checked, no matter how many times the poor man asks her.”

  “But—”

  “Kate. Let it go.” Jack rested a hand on her arm, and the warmth of it distracted her. The recitation of all the reasons they’d found themselves here in Scotland had taken the better part of an hour, and now they were arguing over supper.

  Kate worried a seam of her skirt between her fingers, rubbing her thumb over the soothing pattern of stitches. “I’m just concerned. It’s a lifelong choice you’re making, Alicia.”

  “I know.”

  “Life moves on,” Jack said gently. “We can’t tie her down forever to the one thing she did wrong.”

  “Excuse me?” Alicia’s voice was sharp, and Kate saw the candles lit along the table flicker wildly. “I didn’t do anything wrong.” She stared around the table, and her eyebrows drew down over her cheekbones, sticking out in stark contrast to the bruised blue of her eyes. “He did something wrong. I did something stupid, but it wasn’t wrong.”

  “Certain society matrons might disagree,” Jack said mildly.

  A gentle breeze teased the candle flames, and Kate’s gaze flickered back and forth between her husband and her sister.

  “I had every expectation that he would marry me,” Alicia said. “I lived with Lady Morehouse. You can’t tell me a single one of those matrons didn’t anticipate their vows. I know better.”

  “She’s right,” Duncan said. “I may not spend a lot of time in society, but even I know that the marital bed isn’t always marital. Ow!” He turned to Fiona. “Don’t kick me, woman.”

  “Don’t gossip,” she said primly.

  “Fine talk from you,” he said. “Have you met yourself?”

  “Coming and going,” she said, eyes crinkling into a smile.

  “If you thought he was going to marry you, what happened?” It was probably unwise to press her sister on this issue, but Kate couldn’t resist. Jack could talk about not tying people down all he wanted, but Alicia was making a choice to leave her baby fatherless forever. Kate knew all about absent fathers. So did her sister.

  “I told you.” Alicia’s voice was tired. “I was stupid. I didn’t find out he was . . . otherwise engaged until after.”

  “He’s engaged?” Jack glanced at Kate.

  “Probably married by now, actually.” Alicia raised a hand to her face to hide a yawn. “It doesn’t matter. He’s the one who did wrong by me, not the other way around. I wouldn’t have him if he was freer than a bird.”

  “Good for you,” Fiona said.

  Kate felt her jaw drop. “I—”

  The Countess set down her wineglass with a sharp clink. “I always applaud self-awareness,” she said. “And, as it happens, Miss Ashe, you’re in a fortunate position.”

  “I am?”

  “Oh, yes. You have the support of your friends and family, boneheaded brothers-in-law aside.” Fiona darted a quick look at Jack, who rolled his eyes again. “You also have a valuable talent.”

  “A dangerous talent,” Duncan said. “But surprisingly useful.” He grinned suddenly. “Frankly, if you ever change your mind, you can terrify anybody you like into marrying you.”

  Alicia snorted. “That sounds awful.”

  “Oh, it is. But we’ll teach you to manage yourself.”

  “You will?”

  “That’s why you’re here, isn’t it?” Duncan’s gray eyes glittered, and Kate wanted to throw herself in front of her sister to get her away from this interrogation.

  But Alicia’s chin was firming. “It is. That and . . .” She gestured vaguely.

  It was Fiona’s turn to grin. “As it happens, we’re rather qualified in that regard, as well.”

  Before Kate could ask what she meant, there was a thunder of noise outside the door. It sounded like a herd of horses. Or perhaps something even larger. The doors to the dining room burst open violently with a blast of air that knocked over two candlesticks and tumbled Duncan’s fork off of the table. He reached out calmly and pinched the flames of the candles before they could catch any nearby napkins on fire. “Moderation, you monsters.”

  “Uncle Jack!”

  “Mama, it’s Uncle Jack!” The shrieks came from two very young boys, who thundered into the room through the open doors. As they made a beeline for Jack, he scooted his chair out from the table so as to catch the hurtling bodies without knocking over any more dinnerware. There followed a short, but intense tussle, which ended with Jack standing, one wriggling child under each arm.

  “Where would you like these packages, my lady?” he asked Fiona.

  “Hmm,” she said. “Best to put them up in the attic, I think. For storage.”

  This prompted outraged shrieks and more violent wiggling, and Kate peeked over at her sister. Alicia had a weak smile on her face as she watched the children.

  “Lads, make yourselves presentable,” Duncan said. “We have guests.”

  “Yes, Papa, it’s Uncle Jack.” This was delivered in tones of extreme patience, as though poor fathers couldn’t be expected to understand the significance of their own statements.

  Jack set them down, upright. “I’ve brought some people for you to meet, lads.”

  Two eager faces peered at Kate. Dual unruly shocks of black hair hung over deep-green eyes in a pair of faces ruddy from exertion, with identical features screwed up in curious suspicion. “Who?”

  “This is Kate, your new aunt. My wife.” He turned to her. “Lady Rothwell, may I present Masters William and Matthew Lowell?”

  She gave them her best bow from her chair. “It’
s an honor to meet you, sirs,” she said as solemnly as she could.

  One child—she had no idea if it was William or Matthew—smiled, while the other remained somber. “Hello!” the little boy chirped.

  “And this is her sister, you other new aunt, Alicia,” Jack said.

  The boys turned to her and their eyes widened as one. “You have magic,” one of them breathed.

  “Like Papa’s!” the other one said excitedly.

  Alicia stared at them, then turned to Fiona, who smiled. “They’re early bloomers, I’m afraid,” she said. “Magic runs deep in this family.”

  “So that’s why you can help me?” Alicia appeared dubious.

  “We’ve had rather a lot of experience of magic-bound pregnancy in my family,” Fiona said. “It can be a different sort of challenge, I’m afraid.”

  “Magic like mine?”

  “Magic in general. You’ve come to the right place, I promise.”

  Alicia’s hand drifted—unconsciously, Kate thought—to her belly. “All right.” The candles—those remaining upright after the boys’ invasion—flickered once, and then settled.

  “The first thing you have to do,” Fiona said, her voice brisk and practical, “is eat.”

  Alicia frowned and looked down at her plate. “I—”

  “No buts,” Duncan said, reaching to take one of his sons from Jack. “You’re providing sustenance for an unimaginable amount of energy right now, trust me.”

  Alicia grudgingly picked up a fork. “Does it ever end? I’m not even hungry.”

  “We’ll teach you to ground yourself and shield so you’re not burning through all of your energy magically, but I’m afraid you’ve about nine months of stuffing yourself silly no matter what,” Fiona said gently.

  “They have an excellent cook,” Jack offered, pretending to stab whichever child he held with his fork as the little boy attempted to sneak something off of his plate. “That’s mine, you pirate.”

 

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