Captain's Lady

by Jamaila Brinkley

  She tugged him upwards so that his body rested fully against hers. “Let’s go with the second one,” she murmured.

  “Would you like me to fetch you pen and paper?” She could feel him smiling against her lips as he kissed her, and she couldn’t resist her own grin.

  “I think we can commit this one to memory.”

  Chapter 15

  Edgebourne House was just as intimidating as Kate remembered it from her months in London. She’d driven past its imposing façade many times on her way to the interminable round of balls, garden parties, and musicales that dictated a debutante’s time during the Season. How strange to think that now, suddenly, she was to enter it for the first time as a member of the family. Jack handed her out of the carriage and she tried not to let her nerves show. He must have noticed something, though, because he threaded his fingers through hers and gave them a comforting squeeze instead of placing her hand properly on his sleeve.

  “Come on, Lady Rothwell,” he said. “Let’s go face the dragon.”

  “Please tell me there are no actual dragons here,” she said.

  “Not that I know of. They’re mostly a myth, you know.”

  “Mostly?”

  He grinned at her. “Wizards never like to rule anything out.”

  The door opened smoothly at their approach, and an efficient butler greeted them by title, seeming unsurprised at their arrival. Kate hadn’t seen Jack send any message, but he must have at some point. Perhaps he’d sent a magical one. She was going to have to get used to that sort of thing. Or not, given that he would presumably be doing his wizardly work aboard ship while she remained here.

  The butler showed them into an elegantly furnished parlor, with chairs upholstered in delicate blue fabric with subtle patterning scattered about the room in a formation that seemed both random and intentional. Here seemed to be where the family gathered, judging by the blanket thrown over a chaise in one corner, books stacked on an end table next to the largest chair, and a steaming tea service set out as if waiting for them.

  Jack headed immediately for the chaise, bringing her with him. He sat down and sprawled out gracelessly, while she perched uneasily on the edge of the seat near him to watch the door. An unexpected tug on her elbow brought her tumbling into his lap, and she pushed at him. “Jack!”

  His lips nuzzled her hair. “Hmm?”

  “Stop it. We’re at a Duke’s house.”

  “I used to live here too, you know.”

  “That doesn’t make it your house.”

  He tickled her, making her yelp and wriggle. “No, but it means you should relax.”

  “Not likely.”

  “Oh, really? What if I—” He reached for her, and despite her other inclinations, she giggled and tried to escape.

  As a result, when the Duchess of Edgebourne walked in, Lord and Lady Rothwell were both rather mussed and ignoring the door completely.

  “Hello, Jack,” Her Grace said.

  Kate leapt away from her husband, muffling her yelp as best she could and tugging at her bodice with one hand while patting at her hair with the other. She shot an unrepentant Jack a furious glance.

  “Hello, Mama,” he said, grinning at Kate before rising to greet the Duchess. He folded his body into an elegant bow that for some reason made the woman he was greeting roll her eyes. The Duchess was a slender blonde whose presence somehow seemed to make her surroundings come into sharper focus. Kate wondered suddenly how much of Jack’s sheer force of personality was his own and how much had been learned. She watched them, fascinated by this unexpected insight into him.

  He kissed the Duchess’ hand floridly before rising, whereupon she swatted him on the shoulder and then drew him into a hug, only to push him away and swat him rather harder. “Ouch.” He rubbed the offending shoulder.

  “Jack Boone, how dare you get married without telling me?”

  “Did you really expect me to put up with what you put Thomas and Duncan through?”

  “Yes!”

  He laughed. “Come and meet my bride, Mama.”

  Kate rose, having managed to make most of the repairs to her person while Jack greeted his foster mother. She curtsied, the exact appropriate curtsy from a viscountess to a duchess. Her brain dredged up Lady M’s intricate instructions without conscious thought. Well trained. “Hello, Your Grace.”

  The Duchess looked her up and down and smiled. She seemed . . . pleased? “Hello, Lady Rothwell.”

  “Oh, please call me Kate.”

  “Thank you. I’m so glad to meet you at last.”

  Kate darted a glance at Jack. “I’m sorry to have delayed the meeting.”

  Jack slid his fingers into hers again, a habit she was beginning to find more and more comforting. “Circumstances were a bit dramatic,” he said.

  “Yes . . .” The Duchess drew the word out thoughtfully. “I look forward to meeting your sister, my dear.”

  Kate took a surprised breath, then realized that Fiona must have sent word. She couldn’t imagine the kind countess not asking for Alicia’s permission to send such news, so her sister must know that the Duchess knew. It seemed she was going to have to get used to the way word travelled in this family. Her own family had been so small, and so devastated over the last several years, that she wasn’t familiar with the sort of maternal pride that the Duchess exuded with every breath.

  “Now, then.” The Duchess’s tone had changed, becoming brisk and efficient. “There’s a ball tonight. Will you two be prepared to attend?”

  “You’re asking?” Jack sounded surprised.

  “You’re a married man now, Jack,” the Duchess said primly. “I can’t just command you to appear where I wish.”

  “Could you before?” Kate asked, interested.

  “I could try.” The Duchess flashed her a surprisingly gamine grin.

  “And she had no trouble ordering Em and Fiona about when they showed up,” Jack said dryly.

  The Duchess clasped her hands. “Yes, but you, Jack, have done something different.” She beamed at Kate. “You have brought me a bride who is fully prepared.” She raised her eyes to the ceiling. “Praise heaven.”

  Kate raised her eyebrows. She couldn’t imagine the composed Countess of Kilgoran unprepared for anything, though she hadn’t met Lady Westfield. “Prepared for what?”

  “Why, Society.” The Duchess unclasped her hands and began to pace. “I don’t know if Jack mentioned it to you, but I was one of Lady Morehouse’s protégés in my own Season. I know exactly what kind of training you went through to prepare you for this Season, dear. And it is an eternal wonder to me that Jack, of all people, managed to select a bride who is fully capable of steering him through the rigors of his new title.” Her Grace’s eyes crinkled when she smiled. It was virtually the only sign of age on her face. Like Brand, the Duchess seemed to have been graced with some form of eternal youth. Kate wondered idly if it annoyed Her Grace as much as it did the steward. Probably not. Youth was more useful to women than to men, particularly those who were involved in the sort of society activities the Duchess was.

  “I’ll do my best, Your Grace,” Kate said. “For as long as he wishes to stay in Town.”

  Jack’s intake of breath made her realize her mistake. The Duchess swiveled to face him, hands flying to her hips. “I beg your pardon?” Jack winced, and Kate mouthed ‘Sorry’ behind the Duchess’ back. “Don’t apologize to him,” Her Grace said sharply, without turning around. Kate startled. How? Mothers were mysterious creatures.

  “Mama, Kate has kindly agreed to manage the Rothwell affairs, as she’s far better at it than I am. Did you know she managed the Earl of Ashewell’s estate for years without anybody knowing it?” Jack’s deflection back to Kate wasn’t going to work. She wasn’t entirely familiar with mothers, ha
ving had very little relationship with her own, but even she could tell that this was a maternal outrage in the making.

  “You’re planning on leaving your bride?”

  The Duchess’s voice had gone up several decibels. She would have made a fine opera singer, Kate thought privately.

  “The ship needs me.”

  “Your wife needs you!”

  As the wife in question, Kate wondered if she was supposed to chime in here. Before she could decide, a movement by the door distracted her. She narrowed her eyes and then strode to the door, which had been left slightly ajar. She took a breath, unheard beneath the escalating argument, then yanked the door open quickly.

  Three young ladies tumbled through the opening, landing skirts askew in a pile. Three pairs of wide eyes peered up at her, and Kate pressed her lips together in an attempt not to laugh. She recognized all of them from her months in London. Her position as an avowed wallflower had often given her an excellent view of these three reigning over the ballrooms of Mayfair. The Carstairs sisters, Isabel and Ariane, were the Duke of Edgebourne’s nieces and his wards. The youngest was the Duke’s daughter, Genevieve. This was her first season, Kate recalled. The other two had been out for a few years. Why hadn’t they married? Well, perhaps the Duke allowed them to hold out for love. A Duke’s wards probably never got into quite as desperate a situation as her own had been. Or her sister’s. They were better guarded. Guilt washed over her again, for not keeping a better eye on Alicia, but she had no time to wallow, because Jack had thrown his hands in the air.

  “Of course! Do please come in, ladies, I had forgotten that there’s no such thing as privacy in this house.”

  Isabel and Ariane shot him wounded glances as they helped each other up. Genevieve scowled. “As if you’re not a worse gossip than any of us.”

  Kate offered the girl a hand. “Hello, Lady Genevieve.”

  Genevieve took Kate’s hand and hopped gracefully to her feet, swishing her skirts out of the way of her cousins. “Hello. You’re Kate Ashe, aren’t you?”

  “Kate Boone, now,” Jack said.

  “Oh, right.” Genevieve curtsied appropriately, glancing up midway through her bend with a twinkling eye. “Hello, Lady Rothwell.”

  The irrepressible Genevieve Dalton was well-known in London society. Kate’s fellow wallflowers had often watched her dancing with wistful, envious eyes. They’d viewed Alicia the same way. Now, as Kate looked down at Genevieve, she wondered what sort of trouble the petite girl was getting into. Because there was absolutely no way that Genevieve Dalton wasn’t trouble. Kate liked her immensely.

  “So nice to see you again,” Kate murmured. “Would you like to join the argument?”

  “Oh, yes!”

  “Oh, no,” Jack corrected. “Don’t encourage her, Kate.”

  Genevieve stuck her tongue out at him. Kate smiled, then glanced at the Duchess. “Perhaps we could, er, table the discussion for now?” She didn’t really need her marital questions aired in front of everyone. Family or not.

  The Duchess nodded, although she didn’t appear happy. “Of course. We should make plans for tonight.”

  “Do we have invitations?” Kate asked.

  Isabel chuckled. “We have invitations everywhere.” Her voice was surprisingly rich, reminding Kate of the warm cocoa she’d drunk with her grandfather during the last Christmas before his death.

  “I suspect there is a pile of invitations awaiting us at home,” Jack said. “One of the many annoyances of the title.”

  Genevieve grinned. “Bet they’ll be surprised when you bring Lady Rothwell along with Lord.”

  “Not too upset, I hope,” Kate murmured. “I still have to live here.”

  The Duchess nodded at her. “Indeed. We’ll do everything we can to smooth the suddenness of the marriage over. Your connection to Lady Morehouse will make it simple, of course.”

  “Just what she hoped, I’m sure,” Kate said dryly.

  “Nobody knows Society better than she does,” the Duchess agreed.

  “Fine, then.” Jack sounded impatient. “Which ball?”

  “The Altamonts,” the Duchess said. “Kate, you have something suitable to wear, yes?”

  “Of course,” Kate said, surprised.

  The Duchess beamed at her. “The bliss of a well-prepared daughter-in-law is not to be denied.”

  Genevieve snorted. “You were just as happy when Em showed up off the street needing everything.”

  “That was a different circumstance.”

  “Well, I certainly didn’t mind lending Fiona my clothes, but I’m happy you don’t need any, Kate.” Genevieve laughed. “Not that mine would fit you! Isabel would have to sacrifice again.”

  “And our complexions are far too similar for me to want to give you any of the gowns that look good on me,” Isabel teased.

  Kate smiled, recognizing sisterly humor for what it was. She did indeed have a similar complexion to the dark-haired Miss Carstairs. She and Alicia were unmistakably sisters, but their opposite coloring had made it hard to share gowns, even in the worst of their dire financial straits. “I’m fully equipped, I promise.” Her mind skipped ahead to the evening, a list of what she would need to gather from her trunks already forming.

  “I know that face,” Jack said. “If you’re done with us, Mama, I’ll take my bride home to get ready.”

  “The Duke wants to see you,” the Duchess said. “Don’t leave without talking to him.”

  The list vanished from Kate’s mind in a puff of worry. Something about her eyes must have given her away, for the younger Carstairs sister, Ariane, who’d been silent until now, put a hand on her wrist. “He’s not at all fearsome,” the younger girl murmured. “Promise.” She favored Kate with a shy smile before slipping back behind her sister and cousin, now cheerfully bickering with the Duchess about what they would wear.

  Kate could only hope she was right.

  Chapter 16

  The Duke awaited them in his study, a room that looked rather different than Kate’s grandfather’s study or even the one at Rothwell. It was far more cluttered, for one thing. And there were a number of artifacts strewn about the bookshelves and on the desk that seemed like an odd fit for estate management, like the glass sphere, gently pulsing with a green glow. And the set of concentric brass spheres that were spinning slowly without any obvious reason for doing so. Not to mention the heavy leather books open on the desk that appeared to be written in several different languages.

  The Duke was leaning back in his chair with a much smaller book in his hands, feet on the desk. Kate squinted, trying to see the title of the book, but couldn’t get much more than ‘The Adventures Of’ before the Duke closed it and tossed it aside, swinging his feet down and rising to greet them.

  “Hello, lad,” the older man said. The Duke of Edgebourne was a tall, slim man with a shock of graying hair that had clearly once been all sandy brown. His long face bore laugh lines around his eyes and mouth, and his brown eyes seemed quite kind, Kate thought.

  “Hello, sir,” Jack said. “You wanted to see us?” The Duke raised an eyebrow, and Kate had the rare and strange experience of seeing Jack flush with embarrassment. “Sorry. Your Grace, I’d like to introduce you to Kate, Lady Rothwell. My wife.”

  Kate curtsied. “Hello, Your Grace.”

  “Hello, my dear. It’s nice to formally meet you.” There was both humor and steel in the Duke’s tone, and Kate glanced at Jack, who winced. “The Countess of Kilgoran wrote that you’d been unwell. I hope you’re feeling more the thing.”

  “Er, yes,” Kate said, surprised that Fiona had communicated such a thing to the Edgebournes.

  “Actually, I was hoping to talk to you about that,” Jack blurted.

  “What?” Kate turned to him. “About what?”r />
  “Your illness.”

  “Jack—” Kate could feel herself growing warm. “I hardly think—”

  “I was hoping Mama might be able to weigh in, actually.” Jack overrode her. Kate was standing close enough to pinch him, and did. He jumped. “Ow!”

  “I am not pregnant,” she hissed through her teeth, annoyed enough to risk the Duke hearing her talk about such an inelegant subject.

  “I know,” Jack said. “You’re right. But I think there might be something more to your seasickness.”

  “Seasickness?” The Duchess’s voice came from the doorway, and she glided into the room past them, dropping a kiss on her husband’s head as she leaned on the desk next to him. “What about it?”

  “Kate’s is extreme, and sudden. I’ve been on the sea for twenty years, and I’ve never seen anything like it.”

  “I’m right here,” Kate said. “I can speak for myself.”

  “Fine,” Jack said. “Tell them how it felt.”

  Kate searched for words. “Er. I was . . . very ill?”

  “Kate, you were virtually unconscious from the second the ship lifted anchor.”

  “I don’t really remember most of it,” she confessed.

  The Duchess frowned. “It was sudden?”

  “Mama, I’m not exaggerating when I say I watched her get violently ill literally the second the anchor left the earth.”

  Kate remembered standing aboard ship, and the feeling that her entire body had come unmoored from itself, and nodded slowly. “I suppose you’re right. It did seem sudden. I just thought it was normal.”

  “I assure you, nobody else I’ve ever met has gotten seasick as dramatically as you do,” Jack said, patting her hand.

  “It’s nice to be special, I suppose.”

  The Duke chuckled. “Your sister recently discovered some magical ability, didn’t she?”