by Susan Lodge
Instead, she had been introduced to Lord Theodore Stark, and everything had changed. When he had picked her out for special attention, she had been mortified. Her dashing lieutenant had been replaced with a pompous ass.
And two things happened: Lieutenant Caulder was suddenly commissioned to a new ship, and Stark offered for her. After deliberating for all of three seconds, she had decided he was not the man for her.
Then had come the incident in the rose arbour. She had received a message to meet her father there, but instead she had found Lord Stark waiting for her. At first, he had engaged her in polite conversation, but when she had insisted that she should go and find her father, his mood had changed.
She shuddered at the memory of his slippery mouth on her face and lips. From around the corner Lady Bertram had appeared, the most infamous and vicious gossip amongst the ton. At the time Hetty wasn’t sure whether to be thankful or horrified, but in the days that had followed, two things were made clear: she was ruined, and it was her own fault. Hetty had expected Stark to be called out by her father for ruining her, but instead – to her disgust – Stark had offered for her and she was told that she must marry him.
Why did Stark want her for a wife? He had a title and could marry someone with a decent dowry, which she knew her father couldn’t provide. Stark had certainly gone to great lengths to make sure no one else would offer for her.
She had pleaded with her father not to agree to the match. But as always, Diana had convinced him otherwise. Hetty had been bitterly let down by his betrayal and actions that showed not one bit of love or affection for his daughter.
The ship swayed viciously as the wind increased, bringing Hetty back to the present. Her insides tumbled for the hundredth time, and she groaned as she reached for the bowl yet again.
Chapter Four
For two days, Hetty was unable to leave the cabin due to dreadful sea sickness. The only way she could cope with the motion of the ship was to keep horizontal with a bowl by her side. Doctor Withington visited her at regular intervals to check on her progress. Then one morning she awoke to find the sickness had subsided, just as the doctor had predicted would happen.
Desperate for fresh air and exercise, she found her way to the quarterdeck. She strolled, shading her eyes from the morning sun as she watched the activity around her. A light breeze captured the sails as the men aloft released them in response to the sharp commands from the officer of the watch. The sun drenched her in warmth. She now had a temporary reprieve from her immediate problems. Time for her to think and plan.
She had learned that the ship was bound for Gibraltar, and the captain intended for her to be conveyed home as soon as possible. But she could not go back to Portsmouth. Somehow she would find a way to keep out of Stark’s clutches.
“How are you today, Miss Avebury?” The doctor silently materialised beside her, adjusting his long stride to hers. Hetty tilted her head to greet him. He didn’t smile. In fact, the way he looked at her was rather odd.
Perhaps it was his professional stare and he was assessing her health. She only knew him as a doctor, not as a person, although she did wonder about the person. Would he have looked at her differently if they had met under other circumstances? If they had met conventionally, surely he wouldn’t stare so boldly or use that look of disapproval. He might have even smiled and kissed her hand. She shivered, disturbed that the thought should make her insides clench with such an intense feeling.
Hetty wanted him to smile. She was tired of disapproval. It dogged her very existence – her father, Diana, Stark, and now this man. Although she couldn’t blame the doctor, as he was burdened with the chore of looking after her. Not that she needed looking after, of course. She ventured a smile of her own, hoping to prompt a similar response.
“I am much improved. Thank you, Doctor. I feel almost human again.” She gestured to the gown that had miraculously been produced for her.
The bosun had been overheard to say that there was nothing that couldn’t be found on a ship of the line. Someone would have a roll of fabric put away to charm a loved one. And a deep blue bolt of cotton had been turned into a simple gown by one of the pressed men who had once been apprenticed to a tailor. A cream woollen shawl and a bonnet, trimmed with a length of matching blue ribbon, completed the outfit. She was amazed at the efficiency of the whole operation – and very grateful.
“I think it is time we had a little talk,” Doctor Withington said.
The smile hadn’t been returned, and his eyes were serious. Her spirits dropped as she prepared for the interrogation. He would want to know the truth of her predicament, especially as he had taken on the role of her protector.
He gestured to a bench, and she obediently sat while he stood before her, hands clasped behind his back.
“Miss Avebury.” He cleared his throat. “For your safety, I must insist that you comply with a few requests.”
Hetty, annoyed that her smile had not been returned, feigned indifference and replied, “Of course, Doctor, as long as the requests are reasonable. I do not wish to be a burden.”
His brows rose at her change of tone, but nevertheless continued. “You must not come on deck unescorted. You must never wander around the lower decks. You must not talk with the crew or distract them from their duties. You may, when escorted, exercise on the quarterdeck – keeping to the leeward side, of course.”
“Of course,” Hetty murmured. “Is the ship perhaps signposted to indicate the walks, like in Hyde Park?”
He narrowed his eyes. “No, strangely not. It is quite simple, though. You will not go forward of this deck, which is named the quarterdeck. And the leeward side is the side that is sheltered from the weather.” He cleared his throat again and continued. “You will dine in your cabin or with the officers, or with the captain, if invited.”
Hetty looked down at the silver-streaked water. “Perhaps it would be better if I just jumped overboard and started swimming. This would surely solve all the problems.”
Doctor Withington’s tone hardened somewhat. “Perhaps it would. However, I fear the French coast, as well as being uninviting, is not within your swimming capabilities.”
Hetty’s back straightened. She hadn’t ever tried swimming but it did not look too difficult, especially if someone was desperate enough.
“Attempting such a feat, sir, may be preferable to dying of inactivity.”
“It would be a good idea if you did not argue with me, Miss Avebury. You are here by virtue of your own strange behaviour.”
She was here because of the press-gang – that was hardly her fault. She decided to change her approach.
“I do not like being idle, Doctor. Can I be employed in doing something useful on board?”
“Such as?” His tone implied the suggestion was ridiculous.
His attitude annoyed her. She wasn’t useless!
“Well, I can read, write, and speak excellent French and a little Italian.” She was also expert at gambling, but she thought it wise not to mention it. When he didn’t answer, she continued. “Perhaps I could help you in the sick bay. I assisted the nurse in tending my Aunt Amelia when she recovered from a fall last year.”
“Did you, indeed?” he muttered. His lips twitched as if he would smile, but then he coughed and in a rather odd voice added, “I will find you some reading matter.”
Hetty suspected the reading matter would not be that thrilling but nodded politely.
“Why do you insist on travelling about the countryside dressed as a male?” he asked, still frowning.
He did a lot of frowning. Perhaps that was why his forehead was etched with that crease down the middle. Hetty sighed. The question was simple but the answer was far from it.
“I was running away, and it is easier dressed as a man, especially when you only have your maid for a companion. Anyone searching for us would be looking for two females. We were pretending to be brother and sister.”
“What about when you fell out
of the tree? You were not running away then, I trust.”
She hesitated. No, she had just been to a gambling den and won forty guineas. How his disapproval would escalate should she tell him the truth. The frown would increase, and the indent in his forehead would surely cut him in two at such a revelation. It was very tempting… No, best not.
“I was out for an early morning ride, and as I prefer riding astride, I wore breeches. My father does not approve of me riding in such a style, so I choose the early hours to do so.”
He didn’t believe her. She could tell. His lips thinned and his eyes turned into green chips. She squirmed uncomfortably.
“Your horse was not around, and I saw no tracks where you fell.” His voice was soft, but she detected a warning against telling him lies.
Hetty squared her shoulders and gave him a cold stare. “Really, Doctor Withington, it is none of your concern. I appreciate your medical help during my sickness, but I do not need a keeper. I can take care of myself. When we get to Gibraltar, I will be on my way. I have enough funds to get to my destination, so you need not concern yourself.”
“Ah, yes, the Isle of Wight…the long way round.” Sarcasm laced his words. “You have demonstrated in the last few days that you are incapable of taking care of yourself. That is why I have been thrust into the role of your guardian. When I am able, I will dispense with the duty with relief and thankfulness. However, I fear the role is mine until I return you to the safety of your family or a reliable chaperon. If you have funds, you had best permit me to keep them safe. They will surely disappear otherwise.”
Hetty tensed. “I would rather not. I assure you, I have it safe.”
He sighed patiently, as if instructing a rather slow-witted person. “This ship is manned with any number of villains who would find a farthing in your most intimate hiding places if they had reason to think one was there.”
A flush crept over Hetty’s face. She remained silent, studying her hands clasped in her lap.
“I will give your money to the captain to lock away. You may have it back when you leave the ship. If you need anything, you may request it from me.”
“Very well, Doctor.” She nodded, but she didn’t know the man well enough to turn over all of her funds. Best to retain the bulk of her winnings in her hiding place. The funds were the key to her independence, and she had already gone through far too much to give that up now.
He was staring curiously at her. “Do you not think that running away from your home was a little extreme? Surely there is an easier way to solve whatever troubles you have with your family. Is it your betrothal that is the problem?”
Hetty tensed and fiddled with the ribbon on her bonnet. “Lord Stark is just one of the problems in my life, Doctor, and I am sure you do not want to be burdened with the rest.”
“Perhaps if you acted a little more conventionally, you would find life tolerable. You don’t seem the sort of person who leads a restrained life. Just the opposite, in fact.”
“You know little about me, Doctor. I am not prepared to be sold like a piece of horse flesh to Lord Stark. That is what my father has done. Over the years I had foolishly thought he had some regard for my happiness. Now I know I was just an investment like the rest of his assets.”
“Do you fear Lord Stark will treat you badly?”
“He is an insufferable wretch, and I fear he will drive me to murder within the first week. His, that is, and then I will probably swing for it. So, Doctor, I have no wish to return home.”
His eyebrows lifted, but his look was not one of sympathy. “I am sure your father considers the match to be a good one. Running away is never the answer. You will have plenty of time to reflect on the matter before we are back in Portsmouth. Perhaps by then, things will not seem so desperate.”
Hetty narrowed her eyes. Hah! What a conceited boor he is after all.
The good mood that she had started with that morning had all but disappeared. This was going to be a very tedious journey.
***
After Robert escorted his charge to her cabin, he returned to pace the deck.
Why did he sound like the world’s most arrogant fool when he was in the presence of that woman? He knew better than most the heartache of arranged marriages. He had never recovered from the loss of his engagement to Rose, the woman he had been due to wed ten years ago – until his father had gambled away his inheritance. She hadn’t wanted to marry the viscount she had been matched with after their betrothal had been cancelled.
He could have shown at least a little sympathy for Hetty Avebury’s predicament, especially as he had encountered Stark. But something about the girl made him act strangely.
The smile she had greeted him with earlier, and the feeling that had rippled through him in response, had been startling. Those bluebell eyes unnerved him. During the time she suffered from sea sickness, she had been easy to supervise as she was confined to her cabin. Now that she had recovered, he knew his role as protector was about to become a lot more difficult. She would want to explore this new wooden world she had been placed in.
He had never been a guardian before, but he needed to act sensibly rather than emotionally. His objectives were to keep her safe and return her home.
***
That evening, Hetty dined with the captain, the doctor, Lieutenant Haines, and midshipman Thomas Murray. The lieutenant had red hair and a pleasant – if overloud – voice, and the young midshipman appeared neatly scrubbed and overwhelmed to be at the captain’s table. Hetty smiled at him, trying to put him at his ease, although she was probably just as nervous as he was. He blushed in response then turned his concentration to his food. As a well-bred woman, she knew proper conduct, but it was strange to be the only female present.
Despite this, the banter was surprisingly interesting. The men warmed to her sense of humour, and she politely laughed at their jokes and anecdotes. It was nice to be part of the gathering. It made a pleasant change from the reproachful looks she had been subjected to at Avebury Hall in the last months.
The doctor watched her closely, and his mood appeared far more agreeable this evening. As he parried words with the rest of the men, she was surprised by his sharp wit, and although he was a man of few words, he commanded respect from everyone. He did not seem in the least pompous or insufferable. In fact, she wondered that this was the same man she had encountered earlier.
She studied his profile. He was far too tanned for a gentleman, probably from being at sea for long periods, but he did have those attractive, sharp-planed angles to his face. When he wasn’t frowning and the crease in his forehead receded, he looked ten years younger than she’d first estimated. Nearer the thirty mark, perhaps.
He suddenly turned before she could adjust her blatant stare and something in his eyes made her squirm. It was almost a physical exchange – as if he had touched her. He hadn’t smiled, but she had read something in those eyes. Maybe it was the excitement, the wine, and the interesting company. She busied herself with her plate of food.
“Doctor, how did your trip to London go?” the captain asked. “Did you and your colleague, Mr. Davy, make further progress with your experiments? A new gas, wasn’t it? Reduces one to a state of merriment, I hear.”
“The effects are startling,” Doctor Withington replied, “but a great deal more research needs to be applied before the full merits of the gas can be assessed.”
Hetty looked up in interest. “I understand it was a mixture of oxygen and nitrogen.”
The conversation halted and the whole gathering looked her way. “Mr. Davy’s new gas…” She faltered at the sudden silence. Had she spoken out of turn?
Doctor Withington broke the silence. “You follow scientific developments, Miss Avebury?”
“I read an article in the newspaper,” she mumbled. She had encroached on a male subject that was unsuitable for female comment. It had been a common reprimand at home. Mentally cursing, she tried to make light of the subject. “I hear it i
s quite the thing at the most fashionable ton parties for gentlemen to inhale the mixture for entertainment.”
“It’s a dangerous gas to play with outside the laboratory,” Doctor Withington replied with a frown, “but Davy is unscrupulous in his research, and the idle pursuits of the ton provide excellent unsuspecting recruits for his observations. It also has interesting possibilities for medical application, but I fear Davy will have trouble convincing the Institute of that fact.”
“I can’t see what good it’ll do in the sick bay,” the captain said. “I can’t imagine anyone chuckling under the knife.”
The conversation moved on, and Hetty concentrated on her meal. But she couldn’t help a grin at the thought of the usually sombre doctor in a state of gas-induced laughter. She dispelled the vision when she realised the captain was addressing her.
“I take it you have never been at sea before, Miss Avebury?”
“No, sir, I have not. I find it has already been a very harrowing experience. A little like learning to ride. Painful initially, but when you have mastered the art of remaining upright it is rather exhilarating. My brother told me of the effects of sea sickness, but I thought he had exaggerated at the time.”
“Your brother!” Dr. Withington turned in surprise. “I never realised you had a brother.”
“Stepbrother, actually, and he was killed serving with his regiment a few years ago. Anthony was a product of my father’s first marriage. I am of the second. After my mother died five years ago, he married again.” Hetty tried to keep her voice matter-of-fact, but she could hardly mention her stepmother without resentment.
She had never been close to her stepbrother. Six years older, Anthony had been away at school most of the time. When he had been home, he had never wanted the company of an inquisitive sibling. All she had ever experienced at his hands were pinches and insults.