by Lynn Bryant
Chapter Five
The rain fell harder as they made their way down the hill, with the grass and moss more slippery underfoot. Roseen was quiet and Hugh was not sure if Corrin’s somewhat blunt hints concerning their relationship had offended her or if she was simply minding her footing. He was exasperated with his old friend but not overly bothered. By now, Roseen must be well aware of his interest and he was fairly sure that her father would have made sure that she knew he approved of the match. Either she was seriously considering it, or she was the worst flirt in the British Isles.
On the last steep section down towards Fenella Beach he was looking out to sea, trying to identify the sail he could see in the distance when she gave a little cry and he turned quickly in time to see her fall, her feet sliding from under her on the slick grass. Hugh swore under his breath and scrambled down to where she sat in a particularly boggy patch of grass, inspecting a grazed and bleeding hand.
“Are you all right? I’m sorry, lass, I was woolgathering instead of doing my job and attending to you. It’s slippery down here and your shoes aren’t really up to the job. Are you hurt?”
“I’m all right. A bit shaken, it’s quite a slide. My wrist hurts, though, I must have come down on it. And I’m covered in mud.”
Hugh knelt beside her and took the injured hand gently in his. It was worse than he had realised at first glance, the skin of palm and wrist badly scraped on sharp stones and the wrist was beginning to swell. She was soaked through and he was furious at himself for suggesting the walk up the hill on a damp and misty day when rain was likely.
“Can you stand?”
“Yes, of course. I’m fine, Captain, don’t look so worried. I’m not that delicate.”
“Just as well if you’re keeping company with me, I’ve no notion how to take care of a lady. Come on, let’s get you down to the Creek and get that cleaned up. Here, I’ll take your other arm.”
She winced slightly as he helped her up and seemed glad of his helping hand down the remainder of the slope. At the bottom he led her over the bridge and round to the inn. The landlord, whom he knew fairly well, erupted from the tap room in a flurry of concern. Hugh had arranged for a private parlour and was glad of it. He seated Roseen on a wooden settle in front of the fire and sent for warm water and linen. The maid brought wine at his request and he poured a glass for Roseen and set it on the small table beside her.
“Let me look at that.”
“It isn’t that bad, Captain, really.”
“Then it won’t take long, will it?”
He took the injured hand in his and very gently bathed it. There was some gravel in the deepest cut and he looked up at her. She was very white and he suspected she was in more pain than she wanted to admit.
“There’s some gravel in this which needs to come out. I can do it or we can send for the surgeon - is there one in Peel Town?”
“I think there are two. I know Dr Moore…but I don’t think we need a doctor. I trust you, Captain, you must have dealt with far worse wounds than my poor effort.”
Hugh grinned, thinking of the bloodstained horror of the surgeon’s room at Trafalgar. “More than once. All right, lass, I’ll be as gentle as I can. Take a deep breath and tell me if you need me to stop.”
She sat very still and he could feel her tense with the pain as he used the tweezers the landlord had found for him to delicately remove several pieces of gravel from the cut. He bathed the wounds carefully and inspected them.
“I think there’s still one in there, but it’s deeper. You all right?”
“Just do it, Captain.”
It was more difficult and he heard her catch her breath but she did not cry out and he eased the piece of stone out and cleaned the wound again. The wrist was very swollen now and he looked up into her white face. She managed a smile.
“Done?”
“Yes. I’m going to bind it up. I do hope it’s not broken.”
“I don’t think so, I can move it although it hurts. Probably just a bad sprain. If it hasn’t settled by tomorrow, I’ll ask our own doctor to look at it once I’m home.”
“I need to organise a carriage to get you back.”
“No you don’t, I can ride perfectly well one-handed as long as you’re there to help if Bridget gets restive. I’m so sorry, Captain, I hope my clumsiness isn’t going to spoil our day, I’ve been enjoying myself so much.”
Hugh felt a little rush of pleasure at her words and her tone. He lifted her injured wrist very gently and kissed the inside of her arm. “So am I, lass. If nothing else it’s an excellent excuse to hold your hand.”
Roseen broke into laughter. “Oh as though you ever needed any excuse! Are you like this with all the girls you flirt with?”
“Roseen, you have seen my appalling attempts at flirtation, you cannot think I allow them to be seen in public off this island.”
She was still laughing, shaking her head. “I don’t believe you, Captain. Your methods of flirtation aren’t like other men but they’re very effective, I think you’ve practised.”
“I’d never be allowed to get away with this in England; they’re very strict with their young ladies over there, we’d need a chaperone on an excursion like this or your reputation would be in trouble.”
“Goodness, would we? How very tedious. What on earth do they think we would get up to on a trip to Peel Town?”
There was genuine surprise in her voice and Hugh bit back a number of extremely unsuitable replies. Instead he said:
“Sit still and let me bind this up. Are you hungry?”
“Starving.”
“Good. Dinner will be here soon.”
“As long as you’ll cut up my meat if needed,” Roseen said with a grin and he laughed and carefully wound the bandage around her wrist.
“I will wait on you hand and foot if you’ll forgive me,” he said. “Is that too tight?”
“No, it’s fine. Thank you, Captain.”
“Here, drink this.”
Roseen sipped the wine and smiled. “This is very nice, what is it?”
“It’s a Portuguese red, I ordered it specially.”
“I had better not drink too much of it or I’ll be incapable of riding.”
“That’s all right, lass, the navy has given me a hard head. If necessary you can ride back in front of me.”
They dined well on local cod and loaghtan mutton and Roseen managed very well with her left hand, needing only a little help cutting up the meat. During the meal she questioned Hugh about his friendship with Thomas Corrin and he told her of his schooldays at the clothworkers foundation school in Peel Town.
“It was a good education, looking back on it,” he said, pouring more wine. “To be honest I’m not sure I was that grateful at the time, I spent most of my time working out how to play truant and run wild with the shepherds or go out with the fishing fleet.”
“I felt rather the same about my governess,” Roseen said ruefully. “Poor woman, I must have been a sad trial to her. Were you an only child?”
“Yes, my mother died and my father never got over it. Unlike Tom Corrin, he didn’t take to building projects though. He took to drink instead and let the farm go to ruin around us. Mr Cretney was patient to start with, I think he hoped he’d get over it, or at least manage to keep it going until I was old enough to take over from him. But eventually the lease ran out. I was fourteen. Cretney had an application from Ned Burrows who already ran one of his tenancies and he was a good farmer, a hard worker. He gave the farm to him and we were out.”
“That’s harsh.”
“Not really. Cretney was a good man, a fair landlord, he’d given Da plenty of chances. And even then he didn’t put us out into the cold. He owned a couple of cottages in the village, one of them was empty, not in good repair. He let us have it rent free for a year if we’d repair it and offered us both work on the home farm. I took it, my Da refused although he was quick enough to spend my wages on the drink when I got the
m. Eventually he drank himself to death on it, they picked him up frozen off the quayside.”
“I am sorry, Captain.”
“Don’t be. He couldn’t live without her. I’m hoping Tom Corrin does better. It takes some men that way.”
“And you joined the navy.”
“I did. Cretney called me up, told me I’d a job as long as I wanted it and offered me lodgings with the stable lads and farm workers. But I was hurt and angry and lost. And I was also free; I’d been taking care of my Da for a couple of years and now I could go anywhere and do anything. I signed up for the navy a few weeks later and I never regretted it.”
“You’ve done very well, Captain.”
Hugh grinned and sipped his wine. “Aye. Not bad for a tenant farmer’s lad from Barrule. When I was looking for land to buy I wrote to Quilliam, the advocate - he was a cousin of my mother’s. I was shocked when he said the Cretney estate was up for sale. I didn’t even know the old man had died, let alone young Joshua. I hesitated for a while. It felt almost as if I was taking some kind of revenge, but it wasn’t that. I’ve no malice towards them. I knew the estate, knew it was good land and I liked the house. I did wonder if there’d be sad memories but there aren’t. I had a good childhood until Ma died - a Manx childhood. The best kind. Although back then I’d have laughed if they’d told me that all these years later I’d be sitting in the Creek Inn telling the story of my life to the prettiest girl on the island and wondering if she thinks me below her.”
The words had come out without thinking but he realised he had no wish to take them back. He saw colour flood her cheeks but she did not look away. Instead she laughed.
“You’re talking to a girl who just admitted that her father made his fortune through smuggling, Captain. Thank you for the compliment, although I’m not sure it’s true. And thank you for the confidences as well.”
Hugh reached for her good hand and raised it to his lips. “A few months ago you informed me you’d no wish to hear compliments from me, lass.”
Roseen met his eyes steadily. “I’ve changed my mind,” she said quietly. “Although I am warning you, if you decide to disappear for over a week and then turn up with Miss Quayle draped on your arm again I will not give you a third chance.”
Hugh laughed aloud. “Oh Roseen, she can’t even begin to hold a candle to you, I promise you. Are you attending this reception at the lieutenant-governor’s next week?”
“I am. Hopefully not in a sling.”
“I hope so too. Will you do something for me?”
“If I can.”
“Wear the blue gown with the silver trimming. You look so beautiful in it.”
He could sense that he had pleased her enormously. She tried for a moment to hide it and then stopped trying, laughed aloud and took his hand. “When I first met you, Captain, I’d have sworn you were not a man for flowery compliments. You’ve surprised me.”
“I’ve surprised myself. It seems to make a difference when I mean them. Roseen, I’d actually really like to sit here all evening holding your hand and talking to you but I need to get you home, given that it’ll be slower going if you’re riding with that. Let me see what the weather is doing.”
The rain had eased as they made their way to the stable, but as they set out on the Castletown road they were quickly enveloped in thick, heavy fog. Hugh was accustomed to fog at sea but it had been a while since he had experienced a Manx fog this thick. The horses were faintly uneasy in the curious silence. They met no other travellers on the road and he supposed that most people chose not to venture out in this weather if they could help it. Hugh rode close to Roseen, watching critically as she attempted to guide Bridget with one hand and after fifteen minutes he reined in.
“Hal - get yourself up here.”
His groom rode forward. “Captain?”
“This isn’t working. Visibility is terrible and if Miss Crellin’s bay stumbles in a rabbit hole she can’t see, she can’t hold on with one arm. Lift her down and up in front of me, McLir is strong enough to take both of us. Then I want you to rope Bridget to your saddle and go on ahead. Take her back to Ballabrendon, it’s closer than the Top House, and then send a message to Mr Crellin telling him what’s happened - Mr Moore will see to it. And get Mr Moore to send the carriage out to collect her.”
Hugh had half expected Roseen to protest but she did not, submitting with surprising docility to being settled in front of him on MacLir. The big grey accepted the extra weight without complaint and Hugh watched critically as Hal tied Roseen’s mare securely to his saddle. Hal set off at a much faster pace and Hugh looked down at his companion and gave a reassuring smile.
“Don’t worry, lass, Isaac will get the carriage out as soon as he gets the message and we’ll get you home.”
“Thank you, Captain. I am sorry, if I’d not been so clumsy this wouldn’t have happened. I thought I could manage, but in this fog…”
“Think nothing of it, Roseen. I’m not risking you being thrown. I’ll take it slow and steady, might as well keep moving. Are you cold?”
“Not now,” Roseen said softly, and Hugh repressed a smile. His decision to take her onto MacLir had been entirely practical but he was not even going to pretend that the feeling of her body settled against his was not enjoyable. She looked up at him and suddenly gave an impish grin and Hugh felt his heart turn over. “Just don’t take advantage of me, Captain.”
Hugh bent his head and kissed her very gently on the lips. “I’ve every intention of taking advantage of you at some point, Roseen Crellin, but not in these circumstances; it’s damp and foggy and I’m a man who likes my comfort. Come on, let’s get you home.”
They were almost half way, Hugh judged, before he heard the sound of the carriage. The fog had lifted a little and turned into a fine drizzling rain which soaked through even his great coat. The girl was drenched and despite the warmth of his arms, was beginning to shiver. He reined in as the carriage pulled up and Hal jumped down.
“Miss Christian put some blankets in the carriage, sir, and Mr Moore sent a flask of brandy, he thought the lady might be cold.”
“She’s freezing, Hal. Take her from me and get her into the carriage.”
“Why don’t you go with her, sir, we can tie MacLir to the back.”
Hugh nodded. He had no objection to riding the rest of the way but Roseen’s white, exhausted face made him reluctant to leave her alone in the carriage. Climbing in beside her he took two of the blankets, silently blessing Voirry’s good sense, and tucked them securely round her. Unstoppering the flask Hal had handed him, he passed it to Roseen.
“Drink some. It’ll warm you up.”
She obeyed, pulling a face, then handed the flask back to Hugh who drank. He was watching her and Roseen summoned a weary smile.
“Captain, please don’t look so worried. I’m perfectly fine, it’s just that my wrist is aching rather a lot now. Thank you for all the trouble you’ve gone to, I’m so sorry to have been a nuisance.”
“Don’t be daft, lass. You look all in and you’re shivering.”
“I’m getting warmer.”
“Come here, there’s nobody to see.”
He drew her into his arms and she rested there, her head on his shoulder, letting him warm her with his body. After a moment, Hugh laid his cheek against the top of her dark head and closed his eyes. She felt completely relaxed in his arms and he allowed himself to enjoy the moment, smelling her damp hair and the underlying scent of Roseen herself. She was beautiful and he admitted to himself that this had gone well beyond his sensible search for a suitable bride. He wanted her with an ache that was new to him.
Almost he spoke to her then, but she was tired and hurt and it was not the right time. After this there could surely be no doubt in her that he was going to propose. He would stick to his original intention and speak to her after the governor’s reception. If she accepted him, and he was fairly sure that she would, he hoped that she would agree to marry him immedia
tely. He wanted to take her with him, at least as far as Yarmouth, while he supervised the final fitting out and the signing up of his crew, which could take months. After that, it might be some time before they saw each other again but he wanted to know beyond all shadow of doubt that she was his.
It was full dark by the time they arrived at Ballabrendon. The house was well-lit and welcoming and the stable yard hung with lanterns. Voirry appeared immediately and Hugh lifted Roseen out of the carriage. She had slept a little and was confused and slightly tearful but went very willingly with Voirry into the cosy parlour to be fussed over with cold compresses and hot possets.
“I’ve made up a bedchamber for her,” Voirry said quietly, coming out of the room. “Isaac has sent a message to her father, he can come for her in the morning. She needs to sleep. What on earth happened, Hugh?”
“She fell rather badly on the way down Peel Hill. I’m kicking myself for not realising sooner how much pain she was in. We stayed for dinner but I should have sent for the carriage then; she made no fuss so I thought she’d be able to ride. I want Dr Carney sent for first thing, Voirry, I’m worried it’s broken.”
“I’ll send one of the boys early, don’t worry.” His housekeeper gave him an amused glance. “It’s not that serious, Hugh, you look very anxious. Probably just a sprain and the cold from the ride. Do you want to go in and see her before I take her up to her room?”
Hugh nodded and went in to find Roseen comfortably established on a sofa before the fire, sipping Voirry’s hot posset. She smiled at him. “I feel like an invalid; I’ve never had this much fuss made over me in my life! Thank you, Captain, you’ve been so kind. Miss Christian tells me she’s sent a message to my father.”
“Yes. I rather imagine he’ll have a word or two to say to me in the morning for taking so little care of you. I’m so sorry, lass.”
“It wasn’t your fault. And despite the unfortunate ending I had such a lovely day. Thank you.”
Hugh bent and kissed her very gently on the lips. “I’m going, before Voirry comes in and starts lecturing me. Get some sleep, sweetheart, I’ll see you in the morning. Good night.”