Catching Captain Nash

by Campbell, Anna

  “Not as I am now.”

  At last she saw shame as well as fear. Oh, Robert...

  “She knows her father is a brave man who served his country to the point of sacrificing his life. She knows we all love you.” At last, she spoke the words that she’d kept back, not sure he was ready to hear them. “She knows I love you. It’s enough. It’s more than enough.”

  She read the astonishment on his face and couldn’t bear to wait for his response. Anyway, the moment belonged to Kerenza. “Stay here.”

  She turned and rushed away in search of her daughter.

  Chapter Thirteen

  * * *

  When Morwenna returned, she was holding hands with a small girl in a grubby floral smock. Without making the conscious decision to stand, Robert found himself on his feet. His heart pounded with anticipation. Anticipation that included a good dollop of fear. As he’d said to Morwenna, his experience of children was limited. And this child was his daughter, so he desperately wanted her to like him.

  Morwenna leveled that thoughtful blue stare upon him, and he straightened as he drank in her silent support. Morwenna who loved him. Who had always loved him.

  If she loved him, he couldn’t fail.

  The little girl huddled close to her mother’s green skirts. Huge black eyes, so like the eyes that he saw reflected in his mirror, focused on him.

  He read shyness, but no fear. That pleased him. He didn’t want his daughter frightened of anything, let alone meeting her father for the first time.

  Her father...

  Since he’d found out about Kerenza, he’d struggled to comprehend becoming a father. But now he saw his child, he finally started to understand. An ocean of reactions surged inside him. Pride. Curiosity. Awe.

  And swift and astounding and immediate, love.

  “Kerenza, I promised you a surprise,” Morwenna said softly. “Do you know who this is?”

  Kerenza surveyed him with searching intelligence, then the black eyes rounded. “I think it’s my papa.”

  “It is.” Emotion thickened Morwenna’s voice.

  “You said he had to go away forever.” Kerenza still studied him the way Silas studied his botanical specimens. Or in fact, the way Robert pored over a chart to plot a ship’s course.

  He’d never realized how powerful it would be to see himself reflected in another being. His avid gaze ate up every detail of those quirky, vivid features. She was beautiful. She’d be beautiful to him forever.

  His daughter!

  “When I found out I was mistaken, it was a lovely surprise for me, too.” Morwenna’s eyes were bright with tears, although he saw how she fought to contain them for Kerenza’s sake.

  “Hello, Kerenza,” he said, his voice husky. His hands opened and closed at his sides as he fought the urge to grab her close.

  That considering gaze remained on his face as if she gathered all her thoughts together before she reached her conclusion. He had no idea what most four-year-old girls were like, but he’d lay a large wager this one was unusually advanced.

  “Hello, Papa,” she said slowly. “You don’t look like your picture.”

  His lips twisted as he recalled the romantic figure Lawrence had made of him. Even at twenty, he hadn’t been that dashing.

  “I’ve had some adventures since then. Would you like to hear about them?” He caught Morwenna’s glance, then looked back at Kerenza.

  She nodded. “Yes, please. Are you going to live with us now?”

  He swallowed to ease the constriction in his throat. “Yes. Will you like that?”

  She frowned as she pondered her answer, and for a moment looked so much like his sister Helena that his heart somersaulted. He hadn’t expected her to seem so familiar so quickly, but she already felt like the blood of his blood, bone of his bone.

  “Yes, I will. I always hoped you’d come home.”

  “So did I,” Morwenna said fervently, wiping away a surreptitious tear that escaped her ferocious control. “Now go and give your papa a kiss like a good girl.”

  Pride swelled Robert’s heart to bursting when Kerenza left her mother’s side without further urging and stepped forward. Of all the qualities he admired, courage was the greatest. And his girl was clearly brave to the bootstraps.

  Careful not to betray quite how overcome he was, he held out his hand, but let Kerenza decide whether to take it.

  When her small hand curled around his, his heart performed another of those dizzying cartwheels. She was a champion, his Kerenza, and he pledged himself to her service as long as he lived.

  “Please bend down, Papa,” she said, as imperious as a princess.

  And why not? By God, he’d like to find a princess to match her.

  “With pleasure.” He went one better. He crouched until his face was level with hers. This close, he saw details he’d missed when she stood beside her mother.

  The thick black lashes. The tumble of hair, thick and unruly, just like his. The slightly aquiline nose that would lend her features character when she grew into them. A few freckles scattered across her cheekbones.

  For a long time, they stared at one another. He remained unmoving as that bright, black gaze roved across his face. As if she did her best to memorize every feature.

  A dirty hand already showing promise of adult elegance rose to touch the scar on his face. “Who did that?”

  “A pirate,” he said, wondering if he should lie. He looked up at Morwenna to check for disapproval. He met eyes shining with what he now dared to call love.

  “The pirates took you away from us.”

  “Yes.”

  “But you escaped from them.”

  “Indeed I did.”

  A pleased smile curved her lips. “I’m so glad you beat them.”

  “So am I, sweetheart.” Emotion crammed his chest to the brim. “And now I’m home, I’ll never go away again.”

  “That makes me happy,” Kerenza said solemnly.

  He had to swallow before he could speak. “So do I get my kiss?”

  She nodded again, still with that serious air. He found her solemnity charming. Hell, he found every little bit of her completely perfect.

  Slowly Robert tipped his head forward. There was a vibrant, expectant pause before, soft as the brush of a sparrow’s feathers or a butterfly’s wings, Kerenza glanced her lips across his scar.

  The breath jammed in his lungs. The moment was so piercing, it hurt. He closed his eyes against the urge to weep.

  The kiss was over in seconds, but it changed his world forever.

  “Thank you, Kerenza,” he said gruffly.

  She smiled with a sunny openness that cast light into the closed, dark corners of his soul.

  “Papa?” she asked, watching him steadily. She seemed as fascinated with him as he was with her.

  “Yes, sweetheart?”

  “Can I have a puppy?”

  The sheer, astonishing ordinariness of the question struck him with the force of a swinging boom in a high sea. Then something strong and joyful and indestructible surged up from out of his belly, and he fell back on his haunches and started to laugh.

  The sound took him completely by surprise. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d laughed just from sheer happiness. A certain black humor had helped him survive his imprisonment, but he hadn’t laughed like this in years.

  Before he could stop himself, he caught Kerenza up and kissed her on the nose. For a moment, he held the light little body too tight. Then when she wriggled, he let her go.

  She regarded him with disapproval, but didn’t retreat. “Papa, you’re very silly.”

  “Undoubtedly.” He caught his breath and rubbed one unsteady hand over his face. Damn, that had felt good. “Can you put up with a silly papa?”

  She frowned, considering the question. “Yes.” Then she returned to the most important subject. “So does that mean I can have a puppy?”

  “I don’t see why not.” He smiled and brushed his hand over her
untidy mop of hair. It was warm and silky under his touch. “What does your mother say?”

  “She says we move around too much.”

  “Ah, but that was before I came home.”

  An expression of unfiltered elation brightened that intense face. “So I can?”

  “Morwenna?”

  “How on earth can I stand up to both of you?” Morwenna’s blue eyes glowed misty like the Cornish sea at dawn. She met his searching glance, then looked down at Kerenza with a long-suffering expression. “All right, you little monster, you win. You can have a puppy.”

  “Oh, splendid.” Kerenza performed a happy skip, then launched herself forward to hug him. As those childish arms encircled his neck and she pressed a sloppy kiss to his cheek, he thought his heart must break with love.

  “Thank you, Papa. Now let’s go. I’ll show you my pony.”

  As the child took his hand, he tilted an eyebrow at Morwenna. “Coming?”

  With a tremulous smile, she shook her head. “No, you go. I want to check on our room.”

  “Come on, Papa,” Kerenza said with a princess’s impatience.

  Completely besotted, Robert went.

  Chapter Fourteen

  * * *

  Morwenna waited upstairs in her bedroom. After witnessing Robert and Kerenza’s meeting, she’d needed some time alone to smile and wish, and cry over his vulnerability and sweetness and courage.

  She’d been so afraid of what might happen this afternoon, and it turned out she’d had no reason. Father and daughter had quickly established an understanding. He and Kerenza had marched off in perfect accord, after that moving meeting that had left Morwenna fighting the urge to bawl like a baby.

  Kerenza had come to find her an hour or so ago, bubbling over with talk of her dashing papa. Although the promised puppy was an equally favored topic of conversation, Morwenna noted with amusement.

  The puppy had been a goal for a couple of years now, since Silas’s spaniel bitch had given birth to a litter during one of Kerenza’s stays at Woodley Park. If Robert’s return meant a dog joining the family, Kerenza’s affections would be eternally engaged.

  It was only when Morwenna saw them together that she understood quite how alike were these two beings she loved more than life. She’d always found comfort in saying Kerenza took after her father. But watching the two of them negotiate a friendship, she’d found it almost uncanny how their expressions mirrored each other.

  She’d ached to fling her arms around both of them and smother them with love. But that encounter in the pavilion hadn’t been about her, but about them. Dear heaven, she’d felt privileged to witness their blooming closeness.

  One of the things Morwenna had found most touching about bringing Robert and Kerenza together was how prosaic the occasion had proven. She’d expected tears and drama and raging emotion. But while she’d had no doubt of the depth of Robert’s response to seeing his daughter for the first time, the introductions had passed off with an ease beyond her most optimistic hopes.

  So she’d consigned an overexcited Kerenza to the custody of a disapproving Miss Carroll and promised she’d bring Robert in to say goodnight to his daughter. Before she left, Kerenza had bestowed a sticky and enthusiastic cuddle on her. Fenella Townsend, Caro’s close friend and one of the first Dashing Widows, had perfect children who didn’t seem to know what mud was. Kerenza, on the other hand, loved the stuff, especially if it was mixed with muck from the stables. Her dress showed evidence of a fun visit to the horses.

  Then had come the moment that had slashed a jagged rift across Morwenna’s much-beleaguered heart.

  “Is Papa really home to stay?” Kerenza whispered, her face jammed up against Morwenna’s ear.

  “Yes, he is, Kerenza. He said he’s never going away again, and he means it.”

  The warm little arms tightened around her neck. “I’m glad. I love Papa.”

  “I know, pumpkin,” Morwenna’s choked out, as her grip on her daughter firmed. “And he loves you, too.”

  “So he’ll be here tomorrow?”

  The fears of an orphan child couldn’t be banished so quickly. But today had provided a good start.

  In fact, an excellent start.

  “Yes. And every day after that.”

  “The pirates won’t come for him?”

  “No, sweetheart. Your papa is more than a match for any number of pirates.”

  “I know that,” she said comfortably and squirmed away. Kerenza was an affectionate child, but didn’t like to cuddle for too long when she had other places to go.

  Morwenna had watched her daughter race away to the nursery and no doubt many tales to share with her cousins. For so long, Morwenna had lived in a world of grief and absence. It was surprisingly difficult to adjust to a landscape bright with hope.

  But it seemed hope must find its place in her life. Her daughter was happy. Her husband was clearly beside himself with delight at his lovely little daughter.

  And Robert had smiled.

  More, he’d laughed. Morwenna had wanted to cry from sheer relief, because in that instant, the two Roberts she loved—the man she’d married and the man who had returned to her—had united into one beloved whole.

  Morwenna had assumed Robert would seek her out, once Kerenza came inside. Perhaps whisk her away for a breathtakingly carnal encounter. The restless rush of her blood told her that his attentions were overdue. He turned her into a complete wanton, and she didn’t give a tinker’s curse. She had years to make up for, and he was welcome to tup her from Truro to Inverness if it made him feel better.

  It certainly made her feel better.

  But she’d put her impatience aside—barely—when she thought again about the afternoon. After meeting his daughter for the first time, he was likely to need some privacy to come to terms with his reaction.

  Now it was time to dress for dinner, and he still hadn’t appeared. Was something wrong?

  He’d handled Kerenza with admirable aplomb. And he’d seemed happy to have his daughter to himself afterward. But had Morwenna overestimated his strength? He’d been so keyed up when he arrived. For Kerenza’s sake, he’d hidden his uncertainty. But that didn’t mean he’d taken everything in his stride.

  Disquiet mounting, she went downstairs and checked the gardens and the stables—although he’d always been the least horsey of the Nashes, and without Kerenza’s company, she couldn’t imagine he’d linger there.

  No Robert.

  She came in through the kitchens where a tearful Mrs. Ballard poured out her pleasure at Robert’s return. Morwenna escaped at last, once she’d promised to bring Robert down to see her after dinner.

  Which would be a fine arrangement, if only she could find him.

  Evening turned into night, and she asked Mrs. Ballard to hold back dinner. Morwenna was becoming seriously worried, although common sense insisted her husband had just gone for a walk and mistaken the time.

  Except she’d endured five years without him. It was too soon to trust a kind fate to leave him safely in her care.

  Since he’d come back, she’d struggled not to weep and fawn and swoon over him. But by the time she climbed to the sprawling house’s attics, she felt hysterics might be justified.

  It was pitch black under the roof, and her candle seemed to make the shadows loom blacker. Ballard ran the house like an admiral ran a ship, but even so, up here there was dust and the debris from generations of Nash occupation.

  Morwenna sneezed, and looked around out of watering eyes. She’d been in this part of the house a couple of times, hunting out costumes for amateur theatricals. There were chests packed with extravagant gowns from last century. While the huge skirts struck her as bizarre, she’d sighed over the exquisite silks.

  It was unlikely she’d discover Robert lurking up here. She’d only ventured up those narrow stairs as a last resort, because she couldn’t find him anywhere else.

  The further she explored under the rafters, the darker it go
t. Clearly she was on a wild goose chase. Her husband was probably happily ensconced in Silas’s library, drinking Silas’s brandy and wondering where the devil his wife had got to.

  “Well, you’re clearly not here,” she muttered in frustration to the absent Robert, when she bruised her shin on a wooden chest jutting out from the wall.

  With a huff of irritation, she turned to leave. She was annoyed because she was frightened. Over the last two days, Robert had felt less and less like a stranger. But now with him out of her sight for so long, she couldn’t help remembering the half-mad vagabond who had barged into her engagement party.

  Who knew what that man might do?

  Then, as she took another step, something made her pause. Perhaps a barely audible catch of breath. Or a feeling that she wasn’t as alone as she’d thought.

  Or perhaps that bone-deep awareness that lovers develop of each other’s presence.

  “Robert?”

  Was she losing her mind? Because surely he’d say something if he heard her approach. And given her clattering progress through the jumble, people in Liverpool would have heard her.

  Anyway, what in the name of heaven would he be doing up here, all alone in the dark?

  She raised her candle, sure she was imagining his presence. And revealed her husband sitting on a tin chest under a descending corner of the roof.

  She was about to ask him what the devil he was playing at, until the light fell on his face.

  “Oh, my dear...” she said on an escaping breath, while all her fragile hopes shriveled to nothing. Despair crashed down on her, turning her heart to lead.

  What a naïve fool she was to imagine that he was on the road to recovery. After all he’d been through, a couple of days couldn’t possibly heal his wounds.

  Especially a couple of days full of the shocks that these had contained. Her engagement. The spreading scandal. Negotiating with the Admiralty. News of a child. Meeting that child.

  Even a man who hadn’t verged on breaking point would reel under such a barrage.

  He leveled glassy black eyes on her. She wasn’t sure he saw her. His face was bone white, so the scar stood out like a raw brand. Between his elegant hands, he turned a toy wooden ship over and over.