The Captain's Wallflower

by Audrey Harrison

  Both Amelia and Richard looked drawn; it had obviously not been an easy two days for either of them. Alexander held out his hand to Amelia and noted her hesitancy when she moved forward.

  Before he could say anything Richard exclaimed. “You have sight! I knew there was something different about you before the operation, but I couldn’t put my finger on it, but I’ve just realised— you can see! You reached out knowing exactly where Miss Basingstoke was standing.”

  “You mean I didn’t reach for your hand Richard? Blast it!” Alexander said, his voice croaking, but the humour shone through.

  Amelia had automatically placed her hand into Alexander’s but, on Richard’s words, she had tried to withdraw it in shock. Alexander kept tight hold of her fingers. “You have sight?” Amelia asked, her voice barely a whisper.

  Alexander sighed, he did not wish to go into long explanations just yet; he still felt so tired, but he owed them something. “It isn’t much sight: central vision in my left eye, but it returned after the fall. I didn’t want to mention it to anyone other than Doctor Johnson because I didn’t believe it would still be here after the operation. It seems I have been very lucky,” he explained quietly.

  “But that means, when we—,before the operation—,you could see!” Amelia faltered, her face flushing a deep crimson at the curious look Richard shot her.

  “I didn’t wish for everyone to get excited only to be disappointed again. Me more than anyone,” Alexander explained.

  “This changes everything!” Richard exclaimed. “It’s a miracle!”

  “I suppose it is,” Alexander said quietly, watching Amelia carefully. Her expression had changed at Richard’s words, becoming more closed. He had no idea what it could mean, but it did not bode well.

  Richard smiled down at Alexander. “This is better than anything we could have imagined. Welcome back Alexander!”

  “I made you this for Christmas,” Amelia said. “It’s a little unnecessary now.”

  “What is it?” Alexander asked.

  “I’d embroidered a handkerchief,” Amelia said with a flush. “It’s nothing really.”

  “No one has taken the time to make me anything before,” Alexander said quietly, reaching with his free hand for the gift.

  Amelia placed it into his palm and used the movement to free herself from Alexander’s hold. She moved a little away from the bed, trying to not make it obvious that she had moved out of Alexander’s reach.

  Alexander held the material up to his eyes, trying to see the delicate stitching. Amelia had sewn it so that the picture protruded from the material and could be felt clearly when being traced with one’s fingers.

  “It’s my ship on the sea,” Alexander said, quietly. Using both touch and sight for the first time in a long time.

  “Yes,” Amelia answered.

  “It’s beautiful, thank you. I will treasure it,” Alexander said, kissing the material before tucking it into his nightshirt, so it lay against his skin.

  Amelia flushed at the action, and Richard smiled. “You will soon be back to your old self, my friend!”

  “I don’t know about that,” Alexander said quietly, his eyes not moving from Amelia’s face. He could sense that things had changed between them, but it did not appear to be progress in the right direction. She had put distance between them, and he did not want that, but now was not the time to speak when Richard was babbling like an excited schoolboy, and Alexander’s head was pounding.

  “We must leave now,” Amelia said quietly. “Doctor Johnson will never let us return if we overtire you.”

  “How’s Samson?” Alexander asked.

  “William has taken him for a long walk. We didn’t think we would get in here without him forcing his way in,” Amelia explained.

  “I want to see him soon,” Alexander said. “Will you both return as soon as you are allowed?”

  “Yes. But we really must leave you now,” Amelia insisted.

  They closed the bedchamber door before Richard turned to Amelia. “I didn’t think I would have such good news to send back to Alex’s family!” he said, rubbing his hands in glee. “It won’t be long before the great Captain Worthington is back in the fold, and we can once again enjoy all that Society has to offer. Please excuse me to your family, Miss Basingstoke. I need to send an express to Lord Newton; it really is a Christmas miracle!”

  Amelia had not needed to speak; Richard was so full of excitement at thoughts of what was to come her silence went unnoticed. Richard had bounded down the stairs and, within a few minutes, had left the house; Amelia leaned on the wooden panelling that lined the landing area.

  He was no longer blind. She sighed; she was so very happy for him, but she realised, just as Richard had, how much things would change. Alexander was whole again, or as nearly as the ton required him to be. His friends would reappear, and the entertainments would begin again.

  Amelia shook herself; how could she be so heartless, wishing that he had not regained his sight? She was ashamed of her feelings and cursed the fact that she was no better than those who had abandoned him in the first place. They wanted him only when he was perfect, and it was as if she wanted him only when he was not.

  Pushing herself off the panelling, Amelia sighed. She was lying to herself; she wanted him whether he was blind, with sight or had only one leg. He would always be perfect in her eyes, but when he was perfect he would never consider someone as lowly as she. Walking down the stairs, she met William bringing in a panting Samson.

  “This boy can run!” William said good-naturedly.

  “Yes, he’s hard to tire.”

  “What is it, Amelia?” William asked, immediately picking up on his sister’s forced brightness.

  “Captain Worthington has regained some of his sight,” Amelia explained, trying to look as pleased as she should.

  “And that isn’t something to celebrate because—?”

  “It is! It really is, but Mr Critchley has gone to let Captain Worthington’s family know the good news and is probably at this moment planning their removal to London.”

  “Ah, I see. And what is the Captain’s view in all of this?”

  “I’m sure he will wish to return as soon as Mr Critchley arranges it.”

  “I wouldn’t be so quick to assume that. I know what I saw in his expressions when he looked at you; don’t be so quick to presume the worst.”

  “He did like me; I know that,” Amelia admitted. “But it was only when there was no one else. Then I was the best of the bunch; I’m expecting that things will soon return to the way they were that first season, Captain Worthington not even looking towards the wallflower benches, let alone approaching them.”

  “If he does that, he isn’t worth crying over, but I can’t believe that of him,” William defended his hero.

  “It was who he was before Trafalgar,” Amelia argued.

  “A lot has happened since then,” William insisted, leading his sister into the drawing room.

  *

  For days Alexander had not seen Amelia. He was aware she had asked Doctor Johnson and Peterson of his progress every time she had seen either of them, but she had not returned to the bedchamber.

  Alexander was as frustrated as hell. Richard had visited and was constantly talking of what they would do once he was well enough to travel to London. It made Alexander’s head hurt sometimes and, on more than one occasion, he had feigned sleep to encourage Richard to leave him alone.

  He had also received a letter from Anthony. It had started with a telling off for not letting him know the moment the accident had happened, but then had gone on to insist that he recuperate at the family home for a few months. Even Anthony had mentioned his return to the social scene of London, and Alexander knew his brother hated the place! It seemed everyone around him wanted him to return to his former life, and he was feeling overwhelmed.

  This was not how things were supposed to have turned out once he had made the decision to visit Amelia. He ha
d not come with firmly fixed ideas, but deep down he had known what he wanted to happen, only now that ideal seemed so very far away.

  *

  A week after the operation, Mr Basingstoke had come to visit Alexander. Finally, Alexander hoped he would be able to speak to someone sensible.

  “You are certainly looking well,” Mr Basingstoke said, taking the seat next to the bed. “You have colour in your cheeks, which was sadly absent when I looked in just after the operation had taken place.”

  “Yes, I’m feeling a lot better, thank you. I want to be able to leave this room, but Doctor Johnson is being a stickler,” Alexander ground out, hating feeling helpless once more.

  “He is being cautious. It’s the time of year that illnesses seem more abundant.”

  “I know. I’ve almost forgotten what a normal Christmas at home is like,” Alexander admitted. “I’ll always be in your debt for allowing me to disrupt yours.”

  “Having eight young men descending is a disruption; you were not. In fact, it has almost seemed like a Christmas miracle occurred: you regaining some of your sight. I know your friend is calling it one.”

  “To be fair, it had happened before Christmas Day,” Alexander admitted.

  “It’s near enough to give us the chance to exclaim in wonder!” Mr Basingstoke said with a good-natured smile.

  Alexander was reminded of Amelia’s no-nonsense, easy approach to life and knew where she got her character from. “Who should I be to interfere with the magic of Christmas?”

  “Precisely! Mrs Basingstoke will eat out on the story she has concocted around your miracle whereas I tend to err on the side of being easier to please. Seeing all my children in one place is nothing short of a miracle to me.”

  “You are very lucky with the size and closeness of your family,” Alexander said.

  “I am indeed, but you have your own family and a very good friend as well. Mr Critchley has been quite excited about the antics the two of you will be embarking on in the New Year.”

  “I doubt I will have a free night for a year, if I let Richard have his way,” Alexander said grimly. He decided now was the time to ask what he had wanted to since he had first met Amelia’s father. “Mr Basingstoke, I have yet another request of you.”

  “Oh, yes?” Mr Basingstoke responded.

  “Would you allow me—, do I presume too much when I ask—, I’d be delighted if—, Oh, blast it! Why I’m so tongue-tied, I’ll never know!” Alexander took a deep breath. “Mr Basingstoke, I would be eternally grateful if you would give your permission for me to pay my addresses to your daughter. Do I have your blessing to ask your daughter to marry me?” Alexander said, finally saying in a rush the words he wanted to say. He flushed, embarrassed at his fumbling and the fact that he had not been able to speak to Amelia before approaching her father.

  “You want to marry Amelia?” Mr Basingstoke asked slowly.

  “Yes. More than I’ve ever wanted to do anything before,” Alexander assured him.

  “I see. I’m sorry, Captain Worthington; I know you have been through a lot more than any young man should have to endure. I cannot let that influence me though; I would not be a good father if I agreed to your proposal. I’m afraid I do not give you permission to pay your respects to Amelia.”

  Chapter 14

  Alexander felt a tightness across his chest so intense he unconsciously rubbed his hand along his nightshirt, trying to ease the internal pressure. “N-no?” he stammered.

  “I’m afraid so,” Mr Basingstoke said quietly.

  “Could I ask why not, Sir? I have a fortune that will keep us both in a great deal of comfort for the rest of our days,” Alexander had never begged in his life, but he was about to start if it was the only way to secure Amelia. “If you think your daughter doesn’t have a preference for me, I think she does.”

  “That is exactly the reason why I am saying no to a man that any other father would probably be welcoming with open arms.”

  Alexander’s mind was spinning. “You say that Miss Basingstoke does have a preference for me, and that is the reason for your refusal? You wish her to marry someone she doesn’t like?” The tightness increased at the thought of Amelia marrying someone else. Alexander struggled to swallow; he was suffering so much.

  Mr Basingstoke smiled. “Let me explain a little. When my daughter returned from London, I was disappointed that she’d not received the many proposals I hoped she would when I’d waved her off. Oh, I know she has no dowry to speak of, but I’d hoped the men in your society would see her for what a gem she truly is. It seems that partly, thanks to their prejudice and, from what Amelia tells me, in part because of my sister-in-law, Amelia returned home not having enjoyed her time as I’d hoped.”

  Alexander wanted to close his eyes and shut out the world. In addition to the tightness in his chest, the feeling that he had a lump of lead forming in his stomach was making him feel decidedly queasy.

  “When Amelia returned she was quiet and withdrawn. At first I thought it was just due to her missing the high-life London had to offer, but I was soon to realise that it was more to do with heartache at someone she had met. I’m not breaching any confidences when I say that Amelia was pining over you.”

  “I missed her like I have never missed anyone else,” Alexander whispered.

  “I’m sure you did. She had been a good friend to you for some weeks it seemed.”

  “She had,” Alexander acknowledged.

  “When she first told me about what had happened between the two of you, I thought, this is it, she has found a match, but it soon became apparent that you had only spoken to her because of your circumstances and not because of attraction.”

  “We had never been introduced,” Alexander said defensively.

  “That is true. But let me ask you this; Lord Eckersley had a daughter come out the same year as Amelia; did you get yourself introduced to her?” Mr Basingstoke asked, his tone firm, but showing no other emotion.

  “Yes,” Alexander said, squeezing his eyes shut with a grimace.

  “Yes, the gossip columns were full of Captain Worthington, making sure he was one of the first to be introduced to the newest heiress in society.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s a sad way to live, in my humble opinion, but I am just a poor man. That being said, I can’t let you hurt Amelia. You will return to London and, if I agreed to the marriage, she would be thrust into your society. Would they welcome her as one of their own, or would they look down at her as you did before you went into battle?”

  “My family would welcome her,” Alexander said quietly.

  “I hope they would, and it is to their credit they don’t show the same prejudice that others do, but I suppose we would never know whether you wanted her because no one else wanted you. Amelia explained how you had been shunned; she was justifiably angry about it. My daughter is very precious to me, Captain Worthington, and I’m not going to take the risk with her heart. I want her to marry someone who wants her above everyone else, and with you I can’t be completely sure.”

  “Is there any way I can change your mind, Sir?”

  “No. I think it would be best if you left not mentioning this conversation to anyone. In time Amelia will forget you, and hopefully she will meet someone who deserves her.”

  Alexander’s shoulders sagged in defeat.

  *

  Alexander lay on his bed with his eyes closed. Somehow having sight no longer felt so important after the conversation he had just been part of. He was arrogant; he knew that. He had never for a moment expected Mr Basingstoke to say no. Alexander almost laughed; Basingstoke had said no and in what a way!

  The conversation replayed over and over again in Alexander’s mind. How could he argue against Mr Basingstoke when everything he said was true? He had only spoken to Amelia when everyone else ignored him. He could try and defend his actions, but he would never have sought her out. It was ironic that he lay longing for her company when he
was alone. Questioning his own motivation about what his feelings really were, he lay for hours until Doctor Johnson and Richard were in the room together.

  “I want to move to the inn you are staying at,” Alexander said, aiming his request at Richard.

  “It’s only been a week. Are you sure you’re up to the journey, even such a small one?” Richard asked. He was desperate to return to London but was not going to do it at the expense of his friend.

  “It’s time we stopped putting out these good people. I wish to be moved tomorrow.”

  “There is still a risk of catching a fever,” Doctor Johnson cautioned. “The bandages are still hiding a wound; I would hate to get so far to have you become ill.”

  “I won’t catch anything; I feel better every hour that passes. I’m moving with or without your help,” Alexander said belligerently.

  Richard and Doctor Johnson exchanged a look, but there was no real reason to keep Alexander where he was; he did seem to be well on the way to recovery.

  The two friends were left on their own once the doctor was satisfied with his checks. Richard sat down near Alexander, helping himself to tea that was kindly provided by their hosts. “So, are we soon to be planning our removal to London?”

  “I won’t be returning to London,” Alexander answered.

  “Not immediately, but soon.”

  “No, Richard. Never.”

  “Never? Whyever not?”

  “I don’t care if I never see the damn place again!” Alexander said roughly.

  “Things have changed now; you can go back to the balls. You can dance!” Richard said persuasively.

  “And be faced by the shallowest in Society while the Miss Basingstoke’s of the world are ignored.”

  “Alex, she is a lovely girl. I admit I didn’t think so at first, but she is a real gem, but she’s not who you have always chased. She’s not the sort of girl the likes of us marry,” Richard said condemningly.