Healing the Captain's Heart: A Clean Regency Romance (Resolved In Love Book 2)

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Healing the Captain's Heart: A Clean Regency Romance (Resolved In Love Book 2) Page 9

by Penny Fairbanks


  Violet spoke as she worked, an easy enough division of concentration for her.

  “I am glad. My reservations still have not completely dissipated but I am more open to him with each passing day. Whenever my thoughts turn to that ugly period in my life and remind me of his cruelty toward me, I simply remind myself that the Frank I see now is the real Frank. This is who he was always meant to be. This is who he would have been if not for our wretched father.”

  Violet saw Mrs. Baird’s smile from the corner of her eye. “I’m very glad to hear that, dear. Continue keeping your heart and mind open. You don’t need to forget your past, you just need to learn how to grow from it. It sounds like Lieutenant Davies’s presence is helping with that.”

  “Yes, I think you’re quite right,” Violet agreed. She hadn’t considered that welcoming one of her antagonists back into her life could actually help her heal. But that did very well seem to be the case, slowly but surely.

  “Though I am far too old to indulge in such fancies myself, I must admit that I am quite happy Captain Jessup has stayed as well. I may be old, but I can still appreciate a handsome fellow,” the housekeeper chuckled.

  A stitch slipped from Violet’s needle at the mention of the captain. Violet gulped, suddenly overwhelmed by nerves. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d dropped a stitch.

  Of course Mrs. Baird noticed this as well. “It seems the captain’s name causes you to fumble. Is it possible that you admire him?” she asked teasingly.

  Violet could feel a fierce blush burning across her cheeks. She swallowed again before answering. “I certainly admire him. But not in that way as you seem to be implying.” She picked up her dropped stitch and quickly fixed her mistake before continuing. “I do not admire anyone in that way. I don’t believe I ever will.”

  “And why ever not?” Mrs. Baird frowned, the creases between her gray brows deepening.

  “You know as well as I that servants are rarely allowed or able to marry. A family would take up too much of our time and energy for us to do a proper job.”

  Mrs. Baird remained silent for a moment too long. Violet’s head whipped around and she stared at the woman by her side. Guilt thundered through her as she realized that she very well may have offended the housekeeper.

  She knew Mrs. Baird was only called Mrs. Baird because of her position in the house. She had always been a Baird. As Violet had unthinkingly pointed out, she was one of the many who had never had time to marry and have a family of her own.

  “I’m sorry, Mrs. Baird, I didn’t mean—”

  “Hush now, Violet. You are right, of course.” The older woman smiled ruefully, the lines at the corners of her eyes more prominent than ever.

  “I do not regret my choice to dedicate my life to service. But you do not have to make the same choice. I am proud of my life and my work. I should think you’ll have more opportunities than I ever did in any case. I never had much besides my work ethic and good character to recommend me to any man. Surely you must know that at least a couple footmen here think you rather pretty. But I seem to notice another man in this household of late who thinks you not just pretty but very fascinating as well.”

  It was Violet’s turn to furrow her brow. She'd never given any thought to the footmen she served with. They ranged in age from their late teens to late thirties if she had to guess. And they ranged in looks from plain to attractive and in manners from simple to noble. Most importantly they all did their duties very well.

  She couldn’t fathom any of them taking a liking to her since she rarely had any interaction with them besides those necessitated by work and the bits and pieces of conversation exchanged during the servants’ mealtimes.

  But she knew instantly who Mrs. Baird alluded to when she mentioned a man who thought her both pretty and fascinating. She must speak of Captain Jessup based on their conversation thus far though Violet was not sure she agreed with that assessment.

  “Even if someone did have any affection for me, I don’t think I could return it. And not just because I’m a lady’s maid.” Violet’s voice trailed off into melancholy. She had never come this close to revealing her deepest fears surrounding the topic of love.

  “And why might that be?” Mrs. Baird prodded gently.

  “Coming from a family like mine—if it can even be called much of a family—and being treated the way I was.... I fear history will repeat itself. I will find myself in the same situation. How can I be sure that the man I marry will not turn into a man like my father?

  “He was a good man when he married my mother. I know it broke him when she died and he coped with it by drinking and gambling away our fortune and estate and by abusing me for killing her and throwing the family into debt by my unwanted birth.

  “Life can be full of unexpected tragedies and difficult circumstances. Will my husband handle them with strength and honor or will he implode like my father? Will my children be safe and happy? Will they turn into cruel monsters who make little girls cry for fun? Will our family crumble and become destitute?

  “I cannot risk it. I cannot risk suffering such circumstances again, or allowing another generation to suffer them.”

  Violet felt as though she’d been deflated after she finally confessed just how deeply her scars ran. They affected every aspect of her life, including her unwillingness to shackle herself to someone and bring more lives into the world who might end up hurt or hurting someone else.

  “Goodness me...” Mrs. Baird muttered after a moment of heavy silence. “That is quite the burden you bear, my dear. I can appreciate your hesitation, certainly. You've never known what a loving family is like. I suppose you have no reason to believe they exist at all.”

  “Except for Lord and Lady Neil,” Violet quickly offered. “Lady Neil’s family was not always a happy one either. But I truly believe she and His Lordship will create their own wonderful family. They’re the closest I’ve come to knowing a loving family. And you as well, Mrs. Baird, if I may be so bold.”

  Violet blushed at her frank words and looked down at the partially completed garment in her hands. She might have come to view Mrs. Baird as a mother figure, but that did not guarantee she felt the same.

  “I am honored that you think of me with such fondness.” Violet could hear the smile in the housekeeper's voice and she looked up at her with relief. “But that does not mean you can never experience a happy family of your own creation.”

  Mrs. Baird patted Violet’s hand gently. Violet gave a small nod, considering her words. But before she could thank Mrs. Baird for her advice, one of the bells on the opposite wall chimed, signaling that someone upstairs needed assistance.

  The bell danced over the placard that read “Lady Neil.” Violet stared at it quizzically for a moment. It was still early in the morning. Her mistress should have still been sleeping.

  Panic surged through her as she dropped her knitting and apologized to Mrs. Baird for leaving so abruptly. Violet knew that the baroness could go into labor at any moment, or suffer some complication, or have fallen on her way to the water closet. Violet needed to be at her side at once.

  She rushed through the house, gathering her skirts up to allow her feet easier movement up the stairs. She did not notice the footmen or maids she flew past, her eyes locked on the next landing.

  Only the sight of Captain Jessup coming down the stairs from the guest wing slowed Violet, but only by a fraction of a second.

  “Miss Davies, how do you do?” The captain called out to her with a bow of his head.

  Violet ignored him and continued quickly up the steps. He’d paused at the top of the stairs presumably to converse with her, but Violet hurried straight toward the next flight of stairs.

  She slipped past Captain Jessup on the landing, feeling a whisper of air pass between them created by her haste.

  Suddenly Violet found herself jerking back slightly, her feet forced to come to a halt. She felt a strong hand grip her elbow. She looked to her side to
see the captain’s gloved hand wrapped around her arm and his face staring down at her intently, that same troublesome lock of hair sweeping over his forehead. His brown eyes, normally so jovial and lighthearted, burned with something new.

  Longing.

  Violet’s heart jumped at the thought. But she had never seen what longing looked like in a man’s eyes, not when they gazed into hers. She could not be sure that she saw correctly.

  “Miss Davies, if I could have a moment of your time. I’m very glad we’ve crossed paths as I hoped to ask you if you would like to accompany me on a carriage ride about the grounds later today. I’ve already been out on horseback and the day is quite fine. I think it will only improve from here.”

  Violet sensed something forced in Captain Jessup’s voice. A forced ease, perhaps. Beneath it she swore she heard what she’d just seen in his eyes. Longing.

  She felt her breath leave her body as she stared back at him, too shocked by what she heard to make a response. The captain wished to go on a carriage ride with her. Just her, by the sounds of it. He hadn’t mentioned Frank or Lord and Lady Neil.

  Lady Neil! Violet’s mind cried out to her, reminding her of her urgent mission. How much precious time had she lost standing here with Captain Jessup? Her mistress could be in distress or agony at this very moment.

  Violet pulled her elbow out of the captain’s grip a bit too harshly. But she had no time for manners or regard to the captain’s feelings when Lady Neil needed her.

  “My mistress has called for me and I fear it may be urgent. I must go. I do not have time for carriage rides and it is not my place to decide when I shall go on carriage rides.” She gathered her skirts again and trotted toward the next flight of stairs. “If you really must ask, please direct your question to my master or mistress,” she called over her shoulder, her eyes grazing over his hurt expression for just a moment before she returned all her focus to her mission.

  Her heart raced as she finally came upon Lady Neil’s bedchamber. She paused at the door, straightening her dress and drawing in a deep breath to appear calm and capable. She tapped her knuckles on the door to alert Lady Neil to her presence and then turned the knob.

  Violet found her mistress in bed, grunting and squirming against her several layers of blankets. She ran across the room and bent over the baroness.

  “What’s happened, my lady? Should I send for Dr. Slaterly?” Violet took a handkerchief from the bedside table and dabbed at Lady Neil’s face which had developed a fine sheen of sweat.

  “No, no. It's not quite time for that yet. I’ve just been trying to get out of this cursed bed. I can’t seem to get enough leverage to right myself. And His Lordship has gone early to his study.” Lady Neil grimaced as she tried to maneuver herself into a seated position.

  Violet gripped her arm and pulled her the rest of the way up. Once seated, Lady Neil was able to swing her legs over the edge of the bed. She breathed heavily from the effort and likely from her belly pressing against her chest. The baroness groaned and put a hand over her stomach.

  “You are up quite early. Does something trouble or pain you?” Violet prodded nervously, watching Lady Neil’s every fleeting expression. She knew there must be something amiss.

  “I am alright now. The feeling has passed. My stomach has grown tight in these past couple days but it always subsides quickly. I’ve heard that this is a sign that the baby is preparing to enter the world. But the pain is not very great. It is more uncomfortable than painful. It will get far, far worse when it is really time. That is what I have heard, at least.” She gave a hesitant smile as she pondered her very near future.

  Violet glanced down at the baroness’s swollen belly. She found it hard to believe that a child lived there and harder still to believe that it could find its way out. One moment the little one was in her mistress’s stomach and the next moment it would be in her arms, alive and breathing and wailing.

  “Are you afraid, my lady?” Violet asked quietly. She wasn’t sure why the question came over her. Lady Neil looked off into the distance as she considered her answer.

  “Yes and no. I am terrified of the experience. Even in our modern age anything could happen during childbirth. But my excitement to be a mother and my love for this child eclipse my fear. It has always been my dream to make a family and I am thrilled that I can make a family with such a wonderful man whom I love and cherish with all my heart.”

  Lady Neil gazed softly at her stomach and slid her hands over her protruding nightgown. Violet could see the love she spoke of. It lit her face from within with such a sweet peaceful glow.

  As she observed her mistress and gave her a moment to gather her breath, Violet’s thoughts suddenly turned back to Captain Jessup and his offer of a carriage ride. She shook her head just slightly enough that it wouldn’t be noticed, but enough to shove the thought out of her mind.

  This was no time to think of carriage rides with handsome men. It should not have even crossed her mind.

  “Accompany me on a walk about the house, Violet. I think some movement will put me more at ease.” Lady Neil held out a hand and Violet pulled her to her feet.

  “Of course, my lady.” Violet nodded and smiled, willing herself to focus on the baroness and nothing else.

  As she readied Lady Neil for her day, Violet forced a mantra through her mind countless times.

  This is your place. This is your place. This is your place.

  Chapter 8

  Owen paced across the rug in the breakfast room, anxiously awaiting the arrival of Lord and Lady Neil.

  Miss Davies’s words circled through his mind like a mantra.

  I do not have time.... It is not my place....

  The words had stung Owen then and they still stung now. It had been such a cold brush off that Owen wondered if he might be attempting to get closer to someone who did not wish to get closer to him.

  He shook his head. That could not be. He knew he’d seen a hopeful surprise in her eyes when he asked her to join him in his carriage. He could not have imagined it. At least, he sincerely hoped he hadn’t.

  Owen played her words in his mind again. He could only assume that the baroness was well despite the urgency with which Miss Davies left him behind. Surely if she had gone into labor or some other illness or injury befell her the whole house would know by now.

  Once again, just as he’d done numerous times in the past month he and Davies had stayed at Gatherford Park, Owen felt the stirrings of a kindred connection in Miss Davies.

  But now that sameness in their spirits caused an unexpected issue.

  Owen had sworn himself to serve and protect his country without regard to possible loss of life or limb.

  Miss Davies had sworn herself to serve and protect Lady Neil without regard to her own personal interests or desires.

  He understood her concerns. She felt she needed to be available to her mistress at all times. He knew she continued to work for Lady Neil’s benefit even when she should have been sleeping or enjoying her mealtimes. Her mistress’s wellbeing was never far from Miss Davies’s mind. At times she could not even spare a moment to look Owen’s way or provide more than a one- or two-word answer.

  He also understood that he had no claim to her attention. She had a job to do and she took it very seriously. Serving the baroness was her calling. Serving England was Owen’s.

  Yet he could not stop himself from wishing to spend more time with her. Even if he knew their time together would not and could not last. He enjoyed being in her presence and he hoped to enjoy it as much as he could while he and Davies were still here. Owen toed a dangerous line but he would prove to himself that he could spend time with Miss Davies and then shut away his interest when it came time to leave.

  Thus he found himself pacing in the breakfast room. Normally he supped with Davies as he often took his meals in his temporary bedroom when he was too tired or pained to journey down the long hall to the dining room. But today Owen had a query for his host
s.

  Surely this could not be a good idea. It would be far safer to keep his distance for the remainder of their time at the Neils’s estate. But Owen had never been a safe man.

  The click of the doorknob turning snapped Owen out of his troubled thoughts. He stood at attention, his arms stiff against his sides and his shoulders pulled back as if he were a green soldier again waiting for his commanding officer to inspect him.

  “Captain Jessup!” Lady Neil chirped with surprise when she spied Owen by the fireplace. “Will we have the honor of your presence at breakfast today?” She smiled warmly as she and her husband made their way toward Owen.

  “Is Lieutenant Davies well?” Lord Neil asked.

  “Yes is he. I told him I would like to dine with our gracious hosts today and he sent his assurances that he should soon feel well enough to join everyone for meals once more. He gains strength and stamina every day.”

  Owen’s words came out quick and sharp much like a report he might give to his commander. His anxiety had turned him into a nervous young cornet eager to impress.

  “Excellent. We’re very glad to hear it.” Lord Neil gave a satisfied smile and wandered toward the sideboard. Lady Neil started to follow.

  “Lady Neil, a moment please?” Owen called her attention as quietly as possible.

  The baroness turned back to face Owen, an expectant smile on her face. “Of course, captain. What can I assist you with?”

  Under Lady Neil’s patient gaze, Owen felt even worse than a bumbling brand-new soldier. He felt like a shy little boy, working up the courage to ask his governess for a bonbon. He looked down at the tips of his boots, her curious expression increasing his anxiety. Rarely did he buckle under anyone’s eyes. Not his superiors nor his enemies. Such a sensation was almost entirely foreign to him.

  Owen knew that Lady Neil was exceedingly kind and generous, especially when it came to Miss Davies. But he also knew that asking this question would likely give her a certain impression of his intentions toward her lady’s maid. Besides, he had developed a great respect for the lady. He found he did not wish to make a fool of himself before her.

 

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