Frank stood silently for several moments, leaving Violet to continue staring at his boots until she could take the silence no longer. She looked up at her brother’s face and saw utter amazement in his expression. When their eyes met, a smile slowly spread across his countenance until he grinned so widely Violet thought he looked like an entirely different person. Perhaps this person was worth getting to know. Maybe even worth forgiving.
“Frank?” She asked, peering up at her brother curiously. His silence and transfixed gaze almost worried her.
“Do you truly mean it? You will give me a chance to prove myself a changed man, to make up for all those years you suffered?”
Frank beamed down at her almost like a child receiving a present. But because he was seven years older than she, Violet could not remember what he looked like as a child, nor did her memory of the family portraits in the gallery of their estate help her in producing a true likeness. Still, at this moment, she felt she could imagine it well enough.
“Yes, I truly mean it.” Violet couldn’t keep the small smile from tugging at her lips. “I shall ask Lord and Lady Neil if they will allow you and Captain Jessup to stay with us. Perhaps a fortnight to start. But I must remind you that I will be very busy with my regular duties.”
“Thank the Lord!” Frank clapped his large hands together and then grabbed Violet’s hands in his.
The sudden touch shocked Violet and she snatched her hands away, but not before she noticed a few scars on the backs of his hands. They looked far older than the rest of him.
“I-I’m terribly sorry,” Frank stuttered as he brought his own hands rapidly back to his sides.
“You surprised me,” Violet whispered, clasping her hands to her chest as if she’d just touched a hot tea kettle without a mitt. She felt that he meant well, but there was only so much she could handle at a time.
“I will be more restrained from now on, I swear it. I simply let my excitement get the better of me.” Her brother smiled sheepishly, tugging on his coat and straightening his back to adopt a serious air.
Violet put a hesitant hand on her brother’s arm. “It’s alright, Frank. One step at a time.”
As dinner approached, Violet paced over the stone floor of the servants’ hall. Lady Neil had been more than happy to accommodate Frank and Captain Jessup for as long as Violet wanted, so long as it was truly what Violet wanted. But she went a step further by offering to host a private dinner for the three of them.
Violet almost refused, but she had already tried to deny her mistress’s kindness once today and did not wish to anger or offend her.
After all, if she truly wished to mend her relationship with her brother, she would have to start the process at some point. It might as well be over a quiet, delicious meal.
And she found she did not mind that Captain Jessup would also be there. He was a guest as well and had played a large part in bringing her brother back into her life. Besides, she looked forward to learning more of him and appreciating his very pleasant countenance.
“Dear Violet, you are going to polish this floor smoother than a river stone if you keep up your pacing.” Mrs. Baird’s warm voice startled Violet to a halt. She looked toward the fire, where the sweet-tempered housekeeper stood with hands clasped together at her waist, a patient expression on her wise face.
“I’m sorry, Mrs. Baird. It’s just that I am a nervous wreck in regards to this dinner. Frank and I have only just met again today after over a decade. My intuition tells me that I can trust him, but I simply cannot allow myself to go that far yet. I fear it will be terribly awkward.”
Violet sighed as she gave voice to her worries and she sank down onto one of the chairs at the long table where the Neil family’s servants took their meals or worked on projects for the household.
Mrs. Baird sat in the chair next to Violet and took one of her hands in her own. The elderly woman’s hands may have been roughened by age and decades of work but she always handled everything she touched, including Violet, with such gentle care.
Violet looked over to Mrs. Baird and gave a tired smile. The unexpected turns this day had taken—on top of Violet resuming her normal duties after her meeting with Frank—had drained her more than she realized. But holding Mrs. Baird’s hand, Violet felt as though she could borrow some strength from the older woman.
Violet had never known her mother, but she had finally found someone who could fill that gap in Mrs. Baird. And Mrs. Baird seemed particularly fond of Violet from the start, treating her as Violet imagined a daughter might be treated by a loving family.
“I know you are scared. You do not want to be taken advantage of, to be hurt like you were in the past. But it sounds like your brother has gone through a great deal of trouble to find you and offer himself to you for acceptance or rejection. I sincerely hope that he is being truthful and wishes to do right by you now. The choice is ultimately up to you. Keep your wits about you, but be open to second chances. Especially when that second chance is accompanied by a very handsome friend.”
Mrs. Baird smiled slyly at Violet’s shocked expression, her gray bun bouncing slightly as she laughed quietly. Violet had never heard the housekeeper speak so candidly on the subject of men. They had had a few visitors to Gatherford Park since Violet had come to live there, including the exceedingly charming and attractive Earl of Overton, but Mrs. Baird had never once commented on them beyond their well-bred manners or sharp outfits.
The older woman laughed in earnest as Violet continued to stare at her. She gripped Violet’s chin and gave it a squeeze. “Don’t you think it’s about time to head to your special dinner?”
Violet glanced to the clock on the mantle of the fireplace and saw with dismay that it was indeed the appointed time. “Send me off with luck,” she whispered to Mrs. Baird, standing stiffly and smoothing out her skirts.
“I doubt you will need it, but I will send it all the same.” Mrs. Baird patted Violet on the shoulder and steered her out of the servants’ hall.
Nerves fluttered through Violet the whole way to the guest wing of the grand home, where Lady Neil had had rooms prepared for Frank and Captain Jessup, as well as the smaller dining room in that side of the house for their meal.
She waited at the closed door for a moment to take in a deep breath that rattled all the way down, the tension in her body refusing to dissipate. But finally she put her hand on the brightly polished knob and entered.
Both men stood immediately upon Violet’s arrival. Captain Jessup bowed his head and Frank crossed the room quickly to give his arm to Violet. After a beat of hesitation, Violet took her brother’s arm and allowed him to lead her to her place at the table.
The guests sat across from her, giving Violet ample opportunity to observe them.
Frank began the conversation with simple questions, his voice a touch too lighthearted as if it required effort to seem so relaxed, encouraging Violet to share her day since he’d last seen her that morning.
Violet found that she could barely respond for the food was too delicious. As servants of a very old and wealthy family, they ate quite well. But all the best meals were of course reserved for the master and mistress—and their guests. Violet ate as much and as quickly as she could without appearing disgraceful. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d tasted such wonderful food. And she could not guess when she would have the honor again.
But Violet also knew that she kept her answers short because she still did not wish to open up entirely yet despite Mrs. Baird’s advice.
Just as the housekeeper’s words jingled in her head again—including her comment about Frank’s friend—Captain Jessup spoke up.
“I swear, this meal is almost as fantastic as the very first meal we had back on English soil. There is something so comforting about a hot, lovingly made dinner after an extended period of travel.”
Violet started at the sound. She hadn’t yet properly heard Captain Jessup’s voice as he had been almost completely silent du
ring breakfast, save for a few quiet answers to Lady Neil’s questions.
Now he spoke with his full voice, powerful and rich but cheerful at the same time. It sounded as though it gathered from every corner of his chest and rose up to his lips on warm air.
“Oh, you remember it?” Frank shot back. “I seem to recall you sleeping through most of that first meal. You never could rest well on a swaying ship.” Violet noticed the smirk her brother directed at the captain, who returned his jabs with an unbothered shrug of his shoulders.
“I think I was simply tired from running about Waterloo and seeing that our regiment was packed up and accounted for.”
“Waterloo?” The question slipped out from Violet before she could check herself. Though it was only one word, it was the first question she’d asked either of them.
“Yes indeed.” Captain Jessup smiled, the corners of his mouth creating creases that spoke of a lifetime of smiles and laughter. His eyes locked on Violet’s and she marveled at the fact that this seemingly carefree man had fought in the war for years and had even been at Waterloo.
“Did not the lieutenant tell you?” he continued, his bright voice carrying through the room. “We were both at Waterloo, yes. Quite a frightful time, in truth. But your brother fought very valiantly many, many times over.”
There was no mistaking the respect in Captain Jessup’s voice as he spoke of Frank. Violet found herself wishing to hear more of her brother’s accomplishments, and perhaps some of the captain’s as well.
Captain Jessup continued. “Yes, indeed, I daresay I owe Frank my life. During a smaller skirmish I received a truly nasty shot to the leg and your brother is the reason I was able to keep that leg, and possibly even my very life. He carried me off to the medic as quickly as possible and they were able to operate immediately and retrieve the bullet.”
He spoke with such ease that he could have been telling Violet about shrubbery sculpting. But still her eyes widened at the unexpected frankness with which he told his story. He did not shy away from discussing the reality of war in the presence of a woman, though such details were generally thought too distressing for the gentler sex.
From the corner of her eye she noticed Frank observing her with a furrowed brow, no doubt watching to see how she would react to his friend’s story. When Violet looked at him head on, with a small smile and less guarded eyes, Frank visibly relaxed. Clearly his sister would not be put off by their experiences.
“That is very heroic indeed,” Violet said with a hint of admiration as she looked between the two men who sat across from her. She felt as though she could suddenly see them more clearly. The veil she had kept over her eyes to protect herself slowly dissolved, allowing her to peek through and truly see her brother as he was now and of course his handsome and honorable friend.
“Oh, it sounds more dramatic than it really was. I believe the real hero to be Captain Jessup in that situation.” Frank waved away Violet’s compliment, a slight blush creeping over his face, but Violet could see by the smile he tried to hide that he was very glad to know his sister thought him heroic.
“Is that so?” Violet couldn’t help prodding, looking over to the captain. She wanted more of their exciting tales, more opportunities to see into both of their characters. After all, few situations tested a person’s true mettle like the battlefield.
“Absolutely. Captain Jessup was helping an innocent family to safety. They weren’t able to escape the area quickly enough before the fighting broke out. He caught a bullet in the leg just as he saw them off to shelter, probably a villager who didn’t realize he was helping the family rather than trying to harm them. It can be hard to read the intentions of an enemy uniform. Luckily I happened to be nearby patrolling when I heard the sound and carried him back to camp right away.”
Violet’s eyes remained fixed on Captain Jessup as Frank told the rest of the story. She tried to read his expression but he seemed suddenly closed off. His dark eyes darted to hers for a moment before returning to his plate.
“That is also incredibly heroic. I’m sure that family would thank you ardently for your help if they had the chance.”
Violet’s words felt hollow, unsure of how to comfort a man who has been through such an ordeal. But she wanted to say something, even something small, to bring peace to Captain Jessup. She knew he deserved it. She was overwhelmed by that same feeling she got near Lady Neil at times—the desire to reach out and touch and soothe.
Captain Jessup looked over to Violet and held her gaze for a moment. His eyes rendered Violet breathless. “Thank you for saying so, Miss Davies. I only wish I could know what became of them.”
Violet’s heart sank as she understood his suddenly stoic expression. He'd had no issue discussing his injury because the wound wasn’t nearly as important to him as the circumstances that had caused it. He did not regret the injury, but his heart still longed to know that the family was safe.
“I’m sure whatever became of them, they would thank you all the same for bringing them a moment of safety.” Violet smiled warmly and her heart lifted again when the captain returned it. She marveled at how even a small smile could completely transform his face.
Frank squirmed in his chair, sensing the heavy atmosphere. “But war is not all heroism, you know. I can’t tell you the many foolish things we got up to when we weren’t busy running about the battlefield. Surely you must remember the latrine, Captain Jessup?”
The lieutenant turned to his companion with a raised eyebrow and a smirk. Captain Jessup groaned and dragged a large hand down his face in exasperation. “You never give me the chance to forget, my good man.”
“Ah yes, latrines. My favorite topic of conversation for dinner,” Violet giggled. A sudden lightness washed over her. Perhaps she could get used to this company.
“See!” Captain Jessup cried, waving a hand in Violet’s direction. “Clearly the lady jests. No one wishes to hear of latrines at the dining table.”
“On the contrary, captain,” Violet quickly interjected. “I declare we must not leave this table until we have heard all about this latrine business.”
She shot a sly smile to Captain Jessup, whose wide eyes stared back at her in shock. He ran a hand through his thick light brown hair and sighed dramatically. “Alright, let’s have it then.”
Frank beamed at Violet and immediately launched into the humorous tale, abandoning his food in favor of waving his arms about for emphasis. Violet pressed her lips together at first, trying to hide her laughter. But the first time she caught the captain’s eyes and saw the corners once again creased with mirth, Violet could no longer help herself. She let out a quiet laugh, covering her mouth behind her hand but unable to still her shaking shoulders.
When Frank finished his embarrassing tale, Captain Jessup returned one of his own involving Frank’s habit of talking in his sleep. The two men seemed to think it a game of who could share the least flattering story about the other.
As Violet watched the two argue over some detail Frank claimed Captain Jessup had embellished, she realized that she genuinely enjoyed herself. The Frank before her was not the Frank she remembered. He made jokes, he teased his friend, he endlessly complimented the meal and the home and the kindness of their hosts, he endeavored to learn more about his sister’s life.
Violet felt herself slipping into the ease with which the two army officers spoke with each other and drew her into the conversation. None of the anecdotes they shared betrayed any of Frank’s old misbehaviors. In fact, Violet would not have believed anyone who described Frank now and claimed him to be the same brother who had caused her so much grief. The change was remarkable, almost unbelieve. Yet Violet found herself wanting to believe.
“Violet, would you perhaps like to join us for coffee or tea in the guest drawing room?” Frank asked as their meal came to an end.
The question surprised Violet. She hadn’t considered taking refreshments in the drawing room after dinner. Her brother suggested it as if
she were a guest as well, at liberty to do as she pleased when she pleased.
Violet looked back and forth between the men, both with expectant expressions on their faces. Despite her earlier anxiety about the dinner and the many times she’d considered feigning illness or some other excuse to avoid it, Violet found that now she did not wish to part from her brother or Captain Jessup so soon.
She still had much to discover about both of them.
But a quick glance at the clock told her that she had already likely used up too much of her borrowed time—though she knew Lady Neil would be generous enough to allow her time in the drawing room if she asked. The thought of her mistress sent a pang of guilt through Violet. Besides, she could use some time away from Frank and Captain Jessup to digest their conversation and assess her changing feelings about her brother.
“I thank you for the invitation, Frank, but I really should get back to my duties. Unfortunately the mending will not take care of itself and Lady Neil is in need of much mending due to her condition.” Violet quickly stood and curtsied to the guests, who also stood and bowed their heads as she left the room.
She quietly closed the door behind her and leaned her back against it for a moment. She could not have guessed that she would undergo such a transformation in one simple dinner. But as she smoothed out her skirts and listened to the soft clicking of her shoes against the floor as she made her way back downstairs, Violet reminded herself that she must not get too carried away.
Her trust could not be completely rebuilt over one meal. And regardless of her brother’s presence in her life, Violet owed her first duty to the family she served. She could not be distracted and allow the quality of her work to slip lest the Neils find fault with her and banish her.
Violet would not be banished ever again.
Chapter 4
Winters always seemed so bleak and gray to Owen regardless of how brightly the sun shone. But English winters had the advantage of being comforting, only for the fact that it was home. Even still, he’d considered escaping to some exotic location with permanently temperate weather on more than one occasion. His winters at war had changed Owen’s opinion of the season entirely.
Healing the Captain's Heart: A Clean Regency Romance (Resolved In Love Book 2) Page 4