The Captain's Frozen Dream

by Georgie Lee

  ‘I don’t believe the creature does still exist, for that reason and many others,’ Katie explained, struggling to concentrate on her work and not Conrad. His presence proved as distracting as the many luminaries wandering about the room. She never thought to be in such company, at least not outside the walls of the Naturalist Society. Now she was with them, accepted as if she’d been working with them for years, and not a newcomer among their ranks. ‘I also don’t believe the creature is still living in some unexplored corner of America. Mr Jefferson sent out an expedition and they recorded no evidence of such a beast.’

  ‘Speaking of unexplored regions, Captain Essington, I know Mr Weston is eager to speak with you about the Arctic weather. Would you mind if I introduce you?’ Mr Lambert enquired, rising from the sofa.

  ‘Not at all.’ Conrad’s fingers pressed hard into the chair until Katie saw the knuckles turn white, but nothing else about his demeanour changed. If she hadn’t known how raw the memories of his expedition were, as he’d revealed last night, she, too, might have missed the subtle change. She reached up and covered his hand with hers, giving it a small squeeze, not caring if anyone around them saw the intimate gesture.

  ‘Will you be all right, Miss Vickers?’ Conrad asked.

  ‘Of course.’ There was no way to assure herself he was going to be well, too, not without revealing the weakness he struggled to hide.

  With a respectful nod, Conrad slipped his hand out from beneath Katie’s and followed Mr Lambert to where a group of gentlemen stood near a table with a small obsidian obelisk on top.

  ‘I must say, Miss Vickers, you’re looking very well,’ Dr Mantell complimented her. ‘Much better than the last time I saw you.’

  A lean man of thirty with thick dark hair, Dr Mantell was one of the more striking gentlemen in attendance tonight, though his dark looks could not compare in Katie’s mind to the sturdiness of Conrad’s, especially his sandy hair and the faint, lingering tan from his time beneath the Arctic sun.

  ‘No doubt it’s due to the return of Captain Essington,’ Miss Benett teased and Katie regretted having been bold enough to touch Conrad, and to stare.

  ‘Yes. I’d feared all was lost for so long,’ Katie offered through a forced smile before exchanging an uneasy look with her aunt. Katie possessed no desire to correct anyone’s assumptions about her and Conrad’s engagement, especially when her own were so muddled. A few days ago, in his study, she thought he’d hardened his heart against her for good. Last night, it was clear he still harboured feelings for her, though how deep they ran, she wasn’t sure. He’d been hurting and she knew all too well how weak and vulnerable pain could make a person.

  ‘Now, you must tell us in detail your entire theory as to the creature,’ Miss Benett demanded.

  ‘Of course.’ Over Miss Benett’s shoulder, Katie watched Conrad move to join another discussion. The confidence in his stride and the set of his shoulders beneath his dark uniform was striking, but it was the faint echo of vulnerability which lingered in the subtle lines of his face and eyes which called to her. For the first time ever, Katie didn’t want to discuss fossils or science, or her troubles. She wanted to be beside him, offering him as much comfort as she drew from him. It frightened her.

  ‘Miss Vickers?’ Miss Benett prodded as she, Mrs Lambert and Dr Mantell leaned forward, eager to hear what she had to say.

  Lacing her fingers together over her knees, Katie cleared her mind of everything else as she launched into a description of the teeth and furcula and her theory that the creature was more bird than reptile. ‘I’m to present my paper on the creature next week at the Naturalist Society meeting.’

  ‘You may have a hard time of it, Miss Vickers,’ Dr Mantell warned, reaching for one of the small tarts on the low table in front of them. Katie’s Aunt Florence had already helped herself to a plateful and was thoroughly enjoying them. ‘It is difficult to change people’s minds once they’ve formed an opinion.’

  Katie nodded her agreement over their shared frustration with the established scientific community. There were brilliant gentlemen more willing to take the word of a wicked man like the Marquis of Helton simply because of his title rather than a humble man like Dr Mantell or a brilliant woman like Miss Benett. Despite the quality of Dr Mantell’s work, his profession as a country doctor without wealth worked to prejudice many against him as much as Miss Benett’s sex.

  Another gentleman came over and urged Dr Mantell to join a discussion about Mr Buckland’s ideas on geology. Even her aunt’s attention was pulled away by Mr Edgar, a tall, elderly man who sat down beside her and found a very willing audience for his argument against Mr Lamarck’s theory of transmutation.

  ‘I don’t envy you the challenges you’ve set for yourself,’ Miss Benett commiserated once they were alone. ‘I’ll do what I can to support you, but my advice is to keep Captain Essington close. As much as it galls me to say this, a woman’s best champion, as experience has taught me with Mr Lambert, is a man with a good reputation. It smooths the way to success.’

  Katie shifted on the chair, uneasy at the notion of relying on Conrad, not simply because it would undermine any effort to achieve success on her own merits, but because he was fast becoming more than a champion for her research.

  ‘Thank you, Miss Benett. You don’t know how much it means to me to speak with a woman who understands the challenges I’ve faced.’

  ‘Oh, I do, for there were many times in the early days of my study when I would have given my most prized crystal to have had another woman who understood.’

  ‘Why do you think the men are so against us helping them?’

  ‘Because they’re men.’ Miss Benett shrugged. ‘Yet we still adore them, don’t we?’

  Katie looked to where Conrad stood with the men, his profile highlighted by the candles behind him. Even in the midst of his own turmoil and all that had happened between them, he still wanted to help her. After so many years of loneliness, of fending for herself and taking on the burdens of her parents, she’d been a fool to throw away such a gift. It was his caring as much as his optimism and belief in himself which had first drawn her to him and now it did the same again. Some day he’d set sail again, but at this moment he was here, giving her the strength and conviction to face all the people who’d scorned her. ‘Yes, we do.’

  Even though we shouldn’t.

  * * *

  Conrad caught little of what Mr Winston said about the climate in Canada and his work studying the logs of various whaling ships plying their trade in the north. It was Katie seated across from Miss Benett who captured his attention. Tonight, among those who accepted and listened to her, she glowed. There were times when he’d catch a shadow of sadness dimming her excitement, but it disappeared quickly, replaced by an enthusiasm as bright as any he’d ever witnessed on the Downs.

  Conrad tugged at the cuffs of his sleeves. Neither of them had mentioned the kiss from yesterday, but the effect of it lingered in the way Katie had viewed him, both here and in the chaise. Despite the presence of Mrs Anderson, Katie had been more generous with her smiles. They weren’t the coy glances of a young girl naive about the intimacies between a man and a woman. Nor were they the heated gaze of a woman with too much knowledge of a man, the kind the rumours suggested. They were private glances which conveyed a deeper understanding between the two of them. Telling her about his fears had helped him to understand some of hers and how they could command a person enough to make them turn away from even love.

  Conrad took a glass of champagne from the silver tray of a passing footman and enjoyed a deep sip. Guilt heated him like the fireplace behind him warmed his wool uniform. The moment he told her about the Melville Island expedition, it would be like pulling a belaying pin out from the centre of a coil of rope and watching it unwind. That’s how fast she’d flee from him. He couldn’t blame her.

 
He watched the bubbles rise from the bottom of the flute to cover the liquid’s surface before they popped and, for the first time ever, pondered resigning his commission. As the heir to the Helton title, it would be the prudent thing to do and wouldn’t raise many eyebrows. Such a convenient excuse would spare him the pain of having to invent another, more elaborate one to cover his true reason for wanting to remain ashore.

  Fear.

  Conrad threw back the rest of the champagne, disgusted for thinking like a coward instead of a commander. He wouldn’t run away and allow his fears to defeat him any more than he permitted Katie’s to defeat her. He would accept this command, as he had all the others, and prove he was the man, the captain, worthy of the praise and glory being heaped on him. Though nothing he could do in the islands would bring Aaron back.

  ‘Captain Essington,’ Mr Tines interrupted Mr Winston. ‘Tell us something of your magnificent exploits in the north.’

  Conrad set the champagne flute down on the mantel, afraid the tremor would make him drop the glass. The men peered at him as if he were a hero and Conrad wanted to yell at them that they were wrong. What he’d done wasn’t heroic or brave, it was selfish and self-serving, the act of a desperate man determined to survive after making an incredible blunder. It was nothing to celebrate, especially not when a man still lay frozen beneath the ice. ‘In truth, there isn’t much to tell.’

  ‘Then describe some of the plant life you saw there,’ Mr Lambert suggested, ever the botanist.

  Somewhat relieved, Conrad indulged Mr Lambert’s interest, describing the red algae which dotted the ice flows in the spring. He thought such topics safe, but he was wrong. When Conrad described how the vegetation had disappeared with the summer, the tremors threatened to return.

  Conrad met Katie’s sapphire eyes from across the room and the trembling subsided like the stinging cold from his hands over a blazing fire. If her mere presence in a room could comfort him, he might experience a greater peace in her arms. Leaving her would be like a man shivering with malaria refusing quinine, but he couldn’t resign his commission.

  Katie broke from his glance and fell back into conversation with Miss Benett. Conrad tapped each finger with his thumb, smarting at the ache in his joints. She might calm him with a look, but her leaving at Heims Hall had shaken him as deeply as Aaron’s departure. It would be more prudent to lose his grip on every champagne flute from here to Mayfair than risk waking up humiliated and alone in his bed after a night with her.

  * * *

  Katie slipped into Miss Benett’s library and heaved a sigh of relief. The purple amethyst crystals displayed on the tables and shelves twinkled with the light of the coals in the grate. She dropped into a chair beside a table with a large ammonite fossil perched on it and stared at the pair of curving tusks dominating the centre of the room. Mammoth, she guessed, by the discolouration of the ivory, but she didn’t hurry to inspect them. It was quiet she sought now, not the treasures. After months of isolation in Whitemans Green, so much conversation proved as taxing as it was stimulating.

  ‘I see you’ve come here to seek some solace as well.’ Conrad’s voice echoed through the quiet as he stepped inside and shut the door behind him.

  Katie straightened in the chair, her breath catching as he moved into the room. The white lining of his coat shone, stunning against the darker wool covering his chest and the light of the fire deepened the thick gold embroidery around each buttonhole. ‘I’ve spent so much time working alone on fossils, I’ve forgotten what it’s like to be in such animated company.’

  ‘I understand. It was much quieter in the north than here in London. It’s taken me some time to adjust after coming home.’ Conrad circled the table with the amethyst crystal, admiring it before picking up one of the smaller samples. ‘I have some news for you. I dealt with Mr Rukin today.’

  Katie tapped her fingertips together in her lap. ‘It sounds rather ominous.’

  ‘It is for him.’ Conrad explained about the plagiarism and his method of handling it.

  ‘To think, a man acting as he did dared to look down on me,’ Katie fumed, rising to pace in front of the chair, as disheartened by Conrad’s news as she was encouraged. ‘The hypocrite. Though I suppose society is full of such people.’

  ‘Sadly, it is.’ He turned the crystal over in his hand and dark sparkles flickered in the purple. ‘Some day, I’ll be forced to deal with them on a more permanent basis, perhaps sooner than I’d like. As the future Marquis of Helton, society will expect me to resign my commissions and prepare to take my place in the House of Lords.’

  The faintest hope ignited in her heart, but the reminder of his future position quickly snuffed it out. ‘A great many things will be expected of you—becoming a politician is surely not one of them.’

  He set the amethyst down with a thud, then made for the tusks. ‘What if I could do more for expeditions as a member of Parliament than the captain of a ship?’

  ‘Which is exactly what your uncle wants.’

  He stopped on the other side of the ivory, his eyes fierce. ‘What he wants doesn’t matter, it never has. It’s what I can accomplish. I could see to it the ships are well funded and supplied. It could mean the difference between life and death to many future explorers.’

  ‘Perhaps, but you wouldn’t be content reading about other men’s journeys instead of taking your own.’ She knew he wouldn’t, any more than she was able to read about other naturalists’ scholarly accolades and not covet them. It was a weakness to be pitied, but a reality she couldn’t dismiss for either of them.

  ‘You’re arguing as if you want me to leave again.’ He ran his finger along the curve of one tusk. ‘I didn’t think you wanted me to go.’

  ‘What I do, or don’t, want you to do doesn’t matter any more.’ He had his own goals to pursue while here in London, as evidenced by his blue uniform. His goals were not hers and, as she’d painfully learned before, they superseded everything else.

  His fierce eyes met hers from across the ivory. ‘It does matter.’

  He said it with such conviction, she almost believed him, but she wasn’t convinced. Worry over his past expedition led him to speak as he did now, but when the fears faded, he’d set out again. She was sure of it. ‘If that was true, then I could have persuaded you to stay before.’

  ‘You could sway me to stay now.’ He came around the tusks to where she stood. ‘I don’t want men to know depredation because of my mistakes. I don’t want anyone to suffer for my ego or my choices.’

  He raised his hand to her face and she noticed for the first time ever in his eyes not fear, but worry. She laid her hand over his, pressing it against the curve of her cheek. He was hurting with a grief she understood, as if the invincibility of youth had been stripped from him, leaving him bare, open and wounded. It was the same thing she’d experienced the morning her mother had fled, when her childhood had ended and she’d been left to see to the house, the food and the bills. It was the day all the ugliness of her parents’ relationship was spread out on the grass for her and the entire village to see and she’d learned how the people who love you the most can still walk away.

  ‘If you resign your commission, tether yourself to shore, then, when younger, less competent men are winning accolades, you’ll resent them and their glories. Eventually you’ll resent me, too, just as my mother resented my father for everything she’d sacrificed for him.’

  ‘I’ve never blamed anyone for my mistakes. I won’t start now.’ He traced her cheekbone with his thumb, his touch tender and seeking. ‘We don’t have to forge ahead alone, Katie, neither of us. We could find a new way forward, together, perhaps in directions we’ve failed to consider before.’

  The words to tell him of Mr Lesueur’s expedition danced on the tip of her tongue. They could both leave England and all the people fawning over Conrad and scowlin
g at her, set off as a team to explore unknown lands. They might discover if some of the animals she’d excavated still lived in the wilds of America. She opened her mouth to speak, then closed it again, hesitant to place them on such a path, when there was so much left for her to do here. She wasn’t ready to leave England, not when the chance to prove wrong all the men who’d scorned and doubted her was only a few days away. Conrad would be there beside her when she did it, believing in her just as he always had. If only her rank in society and his didn’t stand between them, then she could hold on to him and his care for good.

  She slid both hands along the sides of his face, the faint stubble of his beard pricking her palms. Tenderness flickered through his eyes like sunlight in a crystal, drawing her to him as powerfully as the fossils drew her back to the Downs. In the weight of his hand on her cheek and the sultry scent of wine on his breath, it was as if they were alone in the countryside again, all the promises of their future as one waiting to be seized. Time had damaged them, hardened their hearts as it did the bones she dug from the earth, but like the bones they were still here, waiting to be made whole again. Maybe, like the animals, the love she and Conrad had broken could be pieced back together.

  She traced the firm line of his brow with the tips of her fingers, then buried her hands in his hair. She drew his face down to hers, meeting his lips with a sigh of relief as deep as the temptation. Whatever course their lives took, tonight she didn’t care. He was here and hers and even if it was only for a brief time, she wasn’t alone.

  * * *

  Conrad savoured the pressure of Katie’s tender lips against his. She hadn’t laughed at him for considering resigning his commission, or chastised him for being weak or afraid. Instead, she’d listened, then argued against it, understanding why he couldn’t leave the Discovery Service and everything he’d spent his life building and achieving. She knew the kind of man he was and in her embrace he sensed, at last, her acceptance of it and him.