by Cheryl Holt
She’d never previously traveled out of England, and she’d spent her life in her neighborhood where they’d been acquainted with the merchants, cab drivers, and newspaper boys. She and her mother had been friendly with all the people engaged in commerce, and they had known Amelia and her mother.
There had been no need to beg that a lease be granted, money disbursed, or supplies sold, and of course, they had traded on her father’s and brother’s names. Any issue with regard to masculine authority had been resolved by mentioning one of the two men—one a deceased veteran and one alive and serving his country.
Captain Hastings was addressing a dilemma she hadn’t considered before her swift departure, but despite his warnings, she said, “I don’t anticipate having any of those problems.”
“And I am positive you will, so this is my bribe.”
Her shoulders slumped. “Let me hear it.”
“I am currently residing off the base in a house with several other officers. There was a fire in my barracks, so my usual lodging is unavailable for a few months. But this is where you come in. My sister can’t wallow in a public hotel, so she is moving in with me.” He raised a brow. “You are too.”
“No, I’m not.”
“You brother likely shares my qualms about females and hotels. He won’t be keen to learn that you stayed in one for an extended period.”
“I’ll find a cottage, Captain Hastings. I have no doubt.”
“No, you won’t because I shall work to ensure no landlord rents to you.”
“You wouldn’t,” she fumed.
“I would.”
“When are you expecting this move to occur? Today?”
“Tomorrow morning. Can you run a household, Miss Boyle?”
“Yes, Captain. I’m not incompetent.”
“I merely wanted to be certain.”
He was the rudest oaf! “I am very capable.”
“Good. Brinley should take charge for me, but she would muck it up in an alarming way.”
“I agree.”
“I’d planned to hire someone, but I’ll use you instead.”
“And if I tell you I’m not interested?”
“I won’t listen to you.”
Her shoulders slumped even further. “That’s what I figured you’d say.”
“You’ll be Brinley’s warden and jailor too. You’ll tamp down her mischief as best you can, and you’ll report any of it to me. What you can’t deal with on your own, I will deal with for you.”
“Do you know Brinley at all?” Amelia asked.
“No. I haven’t seen her since she was a baby.”
“Then why are you so convinced she’ll cause trouble?”
“Her mother was a deranged shrew, and Brinley is just like her.”
“Why are you so wary though? Has she ever actually disobeyed you?”
“You mean besides traveling here when I specifically forbade it?”
They both smiled, and Amelia said, “Yes, besides that.”
“I had a brother, Robert. He’s deceased now, but after my father died, Brinley lived with him off and on.”
“In London?”
“Yes, where he was a gambler and charlatan who never had two pennies to rub together. I occasionally received letters from him. She is not a mystery to me.”
“Is there any chance she journeyed to Gibraltar because she’s anxious to be with you—her only kin?”
“No, there’s no chance of that. There is always a dubious motive behind her conduct.”
“What about Laura?”
“Laura?” He seemed confused by the name.
“Miss Hastings has a little sister. Laura, remember?”
“Oh, that’s right.”
“She has some personal issues.”
“What issues?”
“Mostly, she never talks.”
“Why?”
“I can’t guess. Miss Hastings insists she can, but she simply doesn’t.”
“Perhaps—with her being around Brinley—she could never get a word in edgewise, so there’s no point to it.”
“You should meet her,” Amelia suggested. “She’s just ten, and you scared her this afternoon. She was hiding in a trunk when you were strutting and barking at me.”
“I believe I’ve mentioned that I don’t strut or bark.”
“If you say so,” she muttered. She’d already deduced that it was futile to contradict him.
“I’ll pay you,” he suddenly declared.
“Pay me for what?”
“For managing my home and minding Brinley.”
Amelia scoffed. “You don’t have to pay me, Captain. I’m not a pauper.”
“I would hate to have you think I’m taking advantage of you.”
“You are taking advantage of me.”
“Well, only until your brother returns, and I’m helping you too, aren’t I?”
“How?”
“You’ll move into a fine residence, and you’ll be busy with chores, so you won’t be bored. With you having an address, you’ll make friends as you couldn’t if you were still in the hotel.”
“True.”
“You’ll acclimate more quickly this way too. You’ll start to learn the town, and you’ll figure out what neighborhood you’d like to live in once your brother is back.”
“I suppose.”
Apparently, he considered the matter settled. He stood and gestured to the door. “Brinley has the directions. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“You’re bullying me, bossing me, and assuming—quite wrongly—that I’ve consented to your scheme.”
Her reply aggravated him, and he counted his grievances on his fingers. “I’m not bullying you. I wouldn’t dream of bossing you, and this isn’t a scheme.”
“How would you describe it then?”
“I told you: I’m helping you.”
“How old are you, Captain Hastings?”
“Thirty. How old are you?”
“Twenty-three.”
He smirked. “You’re practically an elderly crone. Why has no lucky fellow snatched you up to be his bride?”
If she’d felt like providing information—which she didn’t—she might have explained her four-year understanding with Peyton Prescott and how he’d tossed her over for the first pretty girl who’d caught his fancy.
Or she might have confessed how she’d gone a bit mad after her mother’s death, how she’d been grieving and had nearly eloped with Holden Cartwright who had been a veritable stranger to her. But it was her specific intent to never speak of either man ever again, and she wasn’t about to discuss them with a pompous cretin like James Hastings.
“I won’t ever marry,” she said.
“Isn’t it every female’s greatest wish?”
“Not mine.”
He studied her as if she were a peculiar insect he’d never noted before. “If you don’t wed, Miss Boyle, what will become of you?”
“That’s not really any of your business, is it?”
“I’m just curious.”
“No. You’re just incredibly rude.”
“Humor me. What is your plan?”
“I will take care of my brother for as long as he needs me.”
“Evan, isn’t it? Is he as opposed to matrimony as you are? Does your distaste for marriage run in the family?”
Again, if she’d felt like offering personal tidbits, she’d have admitted that, yes, at the moment, Evan was averse to the notion. He was a knight in shining armor who always tried to rescue damsels in distress. He’d tried with their acquaintance, Jo Bates, but she’d waltzed off and wed Peyton Prescott the minute she’d had the chance.
Evan had been crushed by the experience, but it was another lengthy explanation she would never provide to James Hastings.
“Evan has no distaste for matrimony,” she said. “He simply hasn’t met the right girl.”
“If
he did, you’d be left in the lurch. Have you thought about that?”
She sighed with irritation. “Captain Hastings, I won’t bandy my choices with you. May we get back to the topic at hand?”
“Which is?”
“You’re a thirty-year-old bachelor, and I am a twenty-three-year-old maiden. It wouldn’t be appropriate for me to move in with you.”
“Maybe not in London where there are plenty of fusspots to cluck their tongues and complain about inane issues that don’t matter. But we’re quite a distance from London.”
“My brother would have a fit.”
“He won’t, and neither will anyone else. You’ll be living with my half-sister and supervising my home for me. It’s not as if you’re signing on for immoral purposes.”
“Other people might think so.”
“This is an army camp, Miss Boyle. Men recognize that some rules have to be relaxed a bit.”
“Just because I’m far from England, it doesn’t mean I should behave improperly.”
He grinned a grin she felt clear down to her toes. “Are you considering improper behavior? Should I beware?”
At the question, she blanched. “Don’t be ridiculous. I’m making a point.”
“What point?”
“I don’t want to watch over Brinley for you. I don’t want to be yanked into your morass with her, and I will not create a scandal.”
“No one will deem the arrangement to be scandalous.”
“What if someone does? I’ve just arrived. It would wreck my entire adventure.”
“It won’t be wrecked. Not with me smoothing your entrance into Gibraltar society. I’ll help you settle in, while you will help me through a difficult circumstance. I call it a win-win situation.”
“You would.”
He leaned toward her, staring so ardently that she shifted back in her chair. She didn’t like how he looked at her with those blue eyes of his, as if he could peer all the way down to her soul. It was obnoxious and discomfiting.
“Tell me the truth, Miss Boyle,” he said. “Can you suppose I would be able to manage Brinley on my own?”
“No, I’m sure you couldn’t.”
“I’m in the army. I have a job, and I work constantly. I can’t sit around every second, serving as my half-sister’s nanny.”
“I understand.”
“And what about her sister, Laura? You mentioned she’s terrified of me. Can you imagine the poor child trapped in my house without you there?”
“No, I can’t.”
“Then you have to do as I ask. It’s the only solution.”
“I’m certain it’s not the only solution. I’m certain there are several others. I simply need time to think of them.”
“Yes, but any solution you devised wouldn’t be the one I wish to have occur.” He went to the door and gestured to the hall. “Thank you for attending me. We’ll talk more in the morning.”
“What if I don’t come?”
“You will because it’s a good plan for you. I’ll furnish you with a household allowance and advise you as to how much you can spend and where to shop for food and other supplies. You’ll have to hire a few servants too. Can you?”
“Of course I can hire servants.”
Had she just consented to hire servants for him? Would she proceed with his absurd scheme?
He and Brinley possessed many of the same horrid tendencies. They were both inflexible and obstinate, like a force of nature that couldn’t be stopped or pushed in a different direction.
She stood too, and her expression was grim. “Captain Hastings, you’re not listening to me.”
“Yes, I am, but you’re silly and a female, and you have no idea what’s best. I, on the other hand, know precisely what you require to begin your tenure in Gibraltar.”
“I repeat: You’re a bully.”
“I guess I am.”
“I have a question for you.”
“Only one?”
“Only one for now. If you send Miss Hastings to London, what will happen to her there?”
“There’s the problem for Brinley, Miss Boyle. I have never been her guardian. As far as I’m aware, she’s never had anyone appointed to be in charge of her after her parents died. It’s why she’s so accursedly independent.”
“You could have yourself appointed.”
He actually shuddered. “Why would I do that?”
“Because you’re her brother?”
“I’m barely her brother, and I don’t mean to sound flip or cruel, but when she walked into my office at five o’clock, I hadn’t seen her in seventeen years.”
“She believes you’re close.”
“Have I mentioned she’s deranged?”
“What about Laura? Who is there to worry about her?”
“Not me surely.”
“Someone should. Why not you?”
“Why not me?” He scoffed with derision. “I am a bachelor and an army officer. How would I care for a little girl, and why would I assume the responsibility and expense? As opposed to Brinley, to whom I have a miniscule connection, I have no connection to Laura at all.”
She scowled. “You’re a very solitary person, aren’t you?”
“With valid reason. I’ve never been too keen on family, Miss Boyle. Mine was never one anybody would emulate.”
“Aren’t you ever lonely?”
“Never. I’m surrounded by my fellow soldiers. That’s family enough for me.”
She headed for the door, but he was in the threshold, blocking her exit. If he’d had any manners, he’d have let her pass, but he was desperate to prove he was bigger and stronger and more determined than she could ever be.
“Until tomorrow then,” he said.
She bristled with aggravation. “Yes, tomorrow.”
Had she another choice? She could quarrel and refuse, but she wasn’t eager to spend six weeks at the hotel, waiting for Evan. Nor was she eager to abandon Laura to Captain or Brinley Hastings.
It might be fun to run his home for him. He lived with a group of officers, and such an arrangement would seem like the happier era in London when Evan and Peyton would sail into port. They’d loafed in the house with their sailor friends, and the Boyle parlor had constantly been filled with the merry conversation of active, tough, interesting men.
She missed those days.
Suddenly, he stepped nearer, his leg touching her own. She stared up at him, and the strangest sensation occurred. She’d noticed it at the hotel when she’d tripped and stumbled into him. When they were in close proximity, sparks ignited, as if they grated together in a way that could set the world on fire if they weren’t careful.
What was causing it? Why would it transpire? How could she stop it?
“It will be all right, Miss Boyle,” he murmured.
“I can’t imagine how.”
“Trust me. Everything will be fine.”
“I hope so, but if you annoy me a single time, I’ll move out, and you can fuss with your sister on your own.”
“Why would I annoy you? I’m the most courteous person alive.”
She burst out laughing. “That may very well be the most ludicrous comment you’ve uttered so far.”
He brazenly rested a hand on her waist, his palm large and firm and tantalizing.
“Don’t fret,” he said. “We’ll get on brilliantly.”
“We’d better or I’ll blame you.”
“I consider myself warned.”
He smiled, and she smiled too, then he drew away and hollered down the stairs. A young private appeared. He told the boy, “Escort Miss Boyle to her hotel, and she likes to wander on her own. Don’t let her. Deliver her safely to her lodging.”
“I will, sir,” the boy replied, and he gaped at Captain Hastings with what could only be described as a bit of awe. If she hadn’t been so irked with him, she might have admitted that he was quite tremendous.
&n
bsp; The private marched off, and she followed him down and out into the balmy air. The sun was over in the west, behind the hill or mountain or whatever the Rock of Gibraltar was called. She hadn’t been in residence long enough to find out how the locals referred to it.
She glanced up at Captain Hastings’s office, absurdly wishing he’d be standing in the window and watching her depart. But he wasn’t, and she felt foolish to have yearned for it.
She started off briskly, simply wanting to arrive at her room so she could begin planning for what would come next. He’d insisted everything would be fine, and she would make it fine. What other option did she have?
CHAPTER FOUR
“Of course the bedchamber will be mine.”
Brinley stared at Miss Boyle, daring her to disagree, but she wouldn’t. Brinley had swiftly figured that out. Miss Boyle wasn’t a fighter, so it was easy to push her into doing whatever Brinley required.
She was able to judge people and situations better than anyone except maybe her deceased father, Charlie, who’d been a notorious scoundrel. He’d had a bit of aristocratic blood flowing in his veins. It had been enough to open a few doors, but never enough for him to walk through in a meaningful way.
He been a celebrated horse trainer who’d worked for all the best families, but he’d never kept his trousers buttoned, so her upbringing had been extremely chaotic. When his peccadilloes were discovered, they’d always been evicted and ordered to depart on a moment’s notice.
Her mother had been a deranged shrew, forced to wed Charlie after he’d seduced her. They’d been like oil and water or perhaps more like fire and bigger fire. Their home had been rife with bickering, drinking, and general mayhem.
Charlie had died first, then her mother, but not before she’d wed again to a dissolute cretin who’d taught Brinley many lessons she shouldn’t have had to learn. But now that she was on her own, she was glad to have had the dubious education he’d provided.
He’d passed on too—no one had mourned him—and she’d been just ten years old and saddled with Laura. Luckily—or unluckily, depending on one’s point of view—her half-brother, Robert, had welcomed them.
They’d had a roof over their heads, but that was about all she could say for that period of her life. Robert had possessed all of their father’s horrid traits. He’d been a handsome wastrel and spendthrift with no morals whatsoever. She’d learned plenty from him too, mostly about men and how to manipulate them.