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

by Penny Fairbanks

  “Shh now, my little friend. All is well, I promise. Though I imagine I am not as soft and comforting as your mother. And Miss Davies,” he whispered to the baby. He began to bounce as he had seen Violet do earlier, continuing to offer gentle words. His eyes glowed with patience and fondness.

  The scene was too much for Violet. She could not stay in the room a moment longer. Not while Captain Jessup held and soothed this darling little baby. Her heart swelled to such an extreme size that she felt sure it would break through her ribs.

  “I shall fetch some tea for us all!” She quickly announced and turned her back to the rest of the party, making her way straight to the door without another glance back.

  But as Violet carefully closed the heavy door she did dare to look through the crack. Captain Jessup stood perfectly framed in the small opening with the baby still in his arms. He listened intently to Mrs. Baird as she explained some of the challenges that come with newborns. The captain turned his eyes back to Master Neil every few seconds, ensuring that the baby still slept comfortably.

  For a moment, Violet’s heart longed to rejoin them—to rejoin Captain Jessup in this familial painting. But she quickly closed the door the rest of the way when she saw the captain’s face turn toward the door and their eyes nearly met.

  Unfortunately, removing herself from the room did little to calm Violet. The scene followed her downstairs and into the kitchen. It replayed itself constantly as she waited for the tea to heat and as she carried the tray back upstairs. In fact, the images began to transform themselves the harder she tried to slow her breathing and steady her heart.

  Violet saw the captain holding a different baby—one that looked like him. She saw love in his eyes as he looked at this imaginary child.

  To her great relief, Captain Jessup had relinquished the baby to Frank’s arms by the time she returned. He sat in a chair by one of the large windows, his crutch leaned up against the wall. The captain stood with the baron and baroness and Mrs. Baird by the nearby fireplace. She could see him shyly waving away what she assumed to be Lady Neil’s persistent offerings of thanks.

  Violet set the tea tray down and poured for everyone but her brother. She worked quickly, not allowing her fingers to brush against anyone else’s strong hands, not allowing her eyes to meet anyone else’s kind, merry gaze.

  She took her own cup of tea and made her way to Frank and Master Neil.

  “Are you enjoying yourself, Frank?” Violet asked with a chuckle as she sipped her tea. “I’m sorry I could not pour you a cup. I fear that babies and hot tea do not mix.”

  “I think I shall be alright as long as he doesn’t...relieve himself upon me.” Frank grimaced at the idea. “But as soon as he goes back to Lady Neil I will happily take a cup if you don’t mind.”

  Violet couldn’t help smirking slightly at her brother’s clear discomfort. He probably had not had many occasions to hold a baby and naturally did not know what to expect.

  “He seems so quiet for a newborn. I always hear stories of babies wailing at the tops of their lungs at all hours of the night and day. Perhaps he takes after His Lordship.” Violet stared down at the baby curiously. “Frank, was I a quiet baby?”

  The thought hadn’t occurred to Violet until she’d arrived at Gatherford Park and heard Mrs. Baird proudly share stories of Lord Neil at all ages—from the day he was born, to the day the household panicked in search of the little boy only to find him in the corner of the library asleep with a book almost half his size in his lap, to the day he was packed off to his boarding school.

  After hearing numerous colorful tales from the baron’s childhood, Violet had realized that she had never heard any tales from her own infancy or childhood. Had she been a quiet baby? Had she walked early or did she resist the challenge? What strange things had she said as young children are so often wont to share at unexpected moments? She had long since assumed that she would never know.

  But now that Frank had reappeared in her life, perhaps she could piece together a picture of who she had been and how she’d grown up—a picture that didn’t revolve around her father’s and brothers’ emotional abuse and mistreatment.

  Frank sat silently for a moment, staring off into the distance of memory. “Hmm. I was still a boy when you were born, not yet sent off to school, so I may not remember very clearly. But I do remember you screeching bloody murder, especially in the middle of the night. How you turned into such a quiet and respectful young lady I have no idea.”

  He scrunched his nose at Violet teasingly and Violet laughed at the image. “I do apologize. I don’t think I’ve done too much screeching since.”

  “In truth...” Frank’s voice grew quiet and his gaze fell upon the sleeping babe in his arms. “I used to think that you cried so loud and so long because you missed Mother like me.”

  Violet’s cup stopped halfway to her lips. She stared at her brother in shock. His hazel eyes had grown dark with the painful memories of their mother’s passing. Violet had never known her so she could only miss the idea of her. But Frank had been just seven years old when she died. Long enough to know and love his mother dearly but not nearly enough time with her.

  Frank shook his head slightly and put on a strained smile. “Of course, that was before I knew that crying was a normal function of babies. I will also have you know that as soon as you developed the ability, you loved to grab my hair and yank on it when I held you, no matter how many times I yelled for you to stop or pulled your hand away.”

  Violet looked at her brother quizzically. “You held me?”

  “I did. I tried to, at least. Babies are not very easy for little boys to carry but I tried. It is a miracle I did not drop you dozens of times now that I think about it.”

  A comforting warmth filled Violet’s heart as she imagined little Frank trying to carry her around the house. Perhaps Frank had been the only one in their broken family who had ever really cared for her despite his eventual participation in her torment.

  A father’s influence could turn any sweet, loving boy into a villain. But beneath all that, Frank had always been that sweet, loving boy who carried his sister and worried that she missed their mother. That was the Frank who had returned to her.

  “Unfortunately, I feel I am not and never have been a natural at holding babies. Not like you and Jessup,” Frank continued.

  “Pardon?” Violet had been so lost in thought that she felt sure she’d misheard her brother’s words.

  “You and the captain. I daresay you would both be natural parents one day.”

  Frank’s eyes darted over Violet’s shoulder to the rest of the group. Violet turned slightly just in time to see the man in question quickly pull his eyes away from her and Frank. Or rather, just her if her own eyes could be trusted.

  Violet turned back to Frank and blushed at his teasing smile. She pouted and refused to take the baby from him when he tried to hand him over. But she could not resist long and soon took Master Neil back in her arms. Violet carried the baby back to his mother, keeping her eyes on his face.

  As she approached and drew parallel to Captain Jessup, the baby threw his arm out from his blanket and his tiny fingers grasped toward the captain. Everyone laughed at the endearing gesture and Violet quickly passed Master Neil to the baroness.

  Was everyone in this house trying to insinuate that there was something between her and the captain, or that there should be something between them?

  Violet pulled her weary body up the stairs, her feet aching with each step. It had been several days since young Master Neil came into the world and Violet had been busier than ever.

  Lady Neil still had a long journey of recovery ahead of her in both body and mind. Based just on the small portion of the labor Violet had seen, she could only imagine how her mistress’s body continued to ache.

  And of course she worried about her son at every moment. He slept in the nursery with the new nurse who had luckily arrived just the day after his birth, but Violet knew Lad
y Neil still got little sleep, wondering if her child was well.

  The baroness could not wander far in the house yet as her body still healed but she enjoyed walking where she could on the main floors of the house despite the usual advise to remain in bed as much as possible. Lady Neil insisted that undertaking some physical activity invigorated her and helped her heal.

  Though Violet’s physical sphere of duties had been greatly reduced according to Lady Neil’s abilities, she wagered that she had walked more in these past few days than she had in the past two weeks altogether.

  Violet’s sense of duty to Lady Neil had increased exponentially as she watched her mistress slowly recover. She ran from floor to floor fetching tea, warm blankets, toys for entertaining, the nurse, a towel to clean up after the baby, and sometimes they made multiple trips to and from the dressing room to change Lady Neil completely if her son’s delicate stomach seemed particularly displeased.

  Each day—each hour, even—brought new challenges for the new parents and Violet as they worked together alongside the nurse to understand the little being in their midst.

  And Violet had to admit that on some level she appreciated the busyness. It kept her mind from replaying the scene of Captain Jessup in the family sitting room with the baby in his arms. At least, Violet thought her busyness reduced the number of times her memory pushed the image of the rowdy military man gently cradling a child to the forefront of her thoughts. Surely Violet would never be relieved of it if she hadn’t been so occupied.

  Her increased tasks also kept her from interacting too closely with the captain. Violet could not decide if this was a good thing or a bad thing. Perhaps in some strange way it was both. Her heart felt fit to burst when he was in the same room, even if she did not have time to stop and converse with him. But her heart longed to be near him again as soon as she quit his presence.

  Despite the exhaustion of the past several days, Violet looked forward to spending time with Master Neil. He was a delightful baby. He certainly cried, but once his needs were met he went back to sleep or simply stared at the foreign world around him.

  The anticipation of seeing the baby spurred Violet the rest of the way up the stairs with the heavy tea tray. She balanced it on one arm as she pushed the drawing room door open and stepped in.

  And she nearly dropped it when she saw Captain Jessup holding little Master Neil once more.

  He looked up and smiled to Violet, as did Lord and Lady Neil and Frank. They sat near one of the grand windows, basking in the natural afternoon light.

  Violet gripped the tray handles until her knuckles turned white and took in a deep breath through her nose. She approached the gathering and prepared the tea, wishing fruitlessly that her heart would stop bouncing throughout her chest.

  She served tea for everyone but Captain Jessup whose hands were full with the baby and she quickly curtseyed to excuse herself. She felt as though she might have a heart attack at any moment if she remained in this room as Captain Jessup walked in a small circle with Master Neil cradled perfectly in his strong arms, talking quietly with the baby as if they were dear confidants.

  But before Violet could take a step toward the door, he began to whimper and then wail in earnest.

  “Come now, Master Neil. I thought we were friends,” Captain Jessup chuckled, unperturbed by the high-pitched squeals sounding just inches from his face. He bounced his arms with a little more enthusiasm in an attempt to soothe his tiny companion.

  This must be Violet’s demise. The ease and gentleness with which the captain handled the crying baby was nothing short of beautiful.

  But a movement at the corner of Violet’s eye tore her attention away from Captain Jessup. Lady Neil’s neck craned up to say something in her husband’s ear and they exchanged a conspiratorial glance. The way Violet’s stomach turned told her that she would be involved somehow.

  Lord Neil stepped forward and offered to take the baby from Captain Jessup. “It looks like someone is in need of lunch. Why don’t we all move to the dining room and have some refreshments ourselves?” he announced, walking past Violet with his son in his arms. Lady Neil followed, throwing a suspiciously demure smile to Violet.

  “I am indeed starving. Getting used to this crutch works up quite an appetite.” Frank hoisted himself out of his chair and made his way slowly to the door. He gave Violet’s arm a squeeze with his free hand as he went by.

  The captain followed behind Frank. He nodded to Violet when he came up next to her. His eyes locked onto hers for a breathless moment and they remained on her face as he walked away until he was forced to break contact.

  Violet took in a shuddering breath. She supposed she could have looked away first, but her eyes seemed unable to obey her. Then again, she found that she did not want to look away.

  “Shame.... They barely had any tea,” Violet mumbled as she set about collecting their cups back onto the tray.

  A shiver shot down Violet’s spine as she sensed someone watching her. She turned herself slightly to look over her shoulder as she continued to clean up. Indeed, Captain Jessup hovered by the door, his eyes on her once again.

  She swallowed and wished both that he would leave and that he would come back. Her latter wish was granted. Violet’s ears burned as she listened to his confident footfalls approach her.

  Her heart nearly stopped when she felt his presence behind her. She need not look to know that he was very close.

  “May I offer my assistance?” His voice was low and thick with some emotion. Violet swore she felt a whisper of his breath against her ear.

  She gathered herself as best she could but could only respond while keeping her hands busy wiping at the end table that did not need any more wiping. “Thank you, Captain, but I can assure you I can manage on my own. I carry tea trays many times a day.”

  “Of course you do.” The captain seemed to realize the silliness of his offer and gave an embarrassed smile.

  Violet’s heart sank as she wondered if her words had come off harsher than she’d intended and she immediately sought to correct her mistake.

  “As I watch you with Master Neil, I can’t help feeling that you will make a great family man one day.”

  Violet realized what she’d said the instant the words left her mouth and her hands froze over the tray handles. Her eyes went so wide she thought they might pop out of her head. She had only intended to soothe any injury she’d accidentally caused. She had not at all mean to admit that she paid particular attention to the captain or that she had imagined him with a family of his own.

  Her heart froze and then hammered and then froze and then hammered again as she awaited Captain Jessup’s response. But none came for several long moments. Violet’s feelings must have been shockingly obvious now, or she had offended the captain by her unintentional admission.

  Holding her breath, Violet dared to look up at Captain Jessup, her hands still poised over the tray, ready to grab it and dash out of the room.

  But she did not see shock or offense or embarrassment or pity on his face.

  He stared at her with an intensity that stopped her heart again. She had seen this look in his eyes before.

  Longing.

  The captain’s fingertips came to rest against the back of Violet’s hand. The touch sent a thrill all the way up Violet’s arm and into her chest, restarting her heart.

  He bent his head closer and whispered, “In truth, I never saw a family in my future for many reasons. Perhaps I only needed to meet the right one, find the right reason.”

  Captain Jessup’s mouth came down to meet Violet’s, his soft lips pressing against hers for a thrilling, breathtaking, perfect moment.

  Instead of thudding in her chest as it had done anytime the captain was near either physically or in her thoughts, Violet’s heart now settled into an easy, familiar rhythm. A rhythm that felt right.

  Even as the captain pulled away, Violet could not believe that she had just been kissed. By Captain Jessup no les
s—the man who had occupied so much of her mind in these past few months. The man who had started as a stranger and had slowly transformed into something of a friend and now this. Whatever this meant.

  Violet had not realized how badly she’d yearned for this experience until it was right in front of her. Not just being kissed, but being kissed by this lighthearted, energetic, handsome captain who had slowly crept into her heart despite her best attempts to guard it.

  She had expected that she could produce such feelings in someone else. Especially not someone who was also clearly guarding his own heart.

  They stood staring at each other for several long moments. Violet wished she could stand here for the rest of time taking in the captain’s usually rugged features now turned soft by the atmosphere between them.

  And best of all, his eyes drank her in as if she were just the thing his lonely soul had been looking for. Violet could see in his eyes that he would never tire of drinking her in, of seeing her for who she really was.

  In those moments of heartfelt silence with the captain holding her hands in his, Violet could see a different future. His face conveyed possibilities she had long since written away as above her station in life. Right now, nothing else mattered but what they might become.

  “May I call you Violet from now on?” the captain asked, leaning his head down again so their foreheads almost touched.

  “That would be lovely…Owen,” Violet whispered. The name felt blissfully fresh as it slipped out of her mouth.

  Owen grinned, his eyes wrinkling at the corners as Violet had seen so often and had come to adore.

  “I am so very glad you think so, Violet.”

  As he tilted his head to the side to kiss her again, the sound of footsteps in the hall jolted Violet harshly back to reality. She pulled her hands away just in time for one of the footmen to appear at the door.

  “Ah, Miss Davies. Lady Neil said I might find you here. She requires your assistance in her dressing room. Urgently.” The footman gave Violet her orders in a perfectly professional tone. If he thought there was anything odd about Violet standing so very close to one of the guests, he did not indicate it.