The Captain's Surrender
Emilee Harris
Copyright © 2020 Emilee Harris
All rights reserved.
Contents
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Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Epilogue
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Author’s Note
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Get your FREE copy of The Commodore’s Daughter, prequel to Emilee’s Currents of Love series when you sign up for the author’s mailing list at:
www.authoremileeharris.com
Chapter 1
Hampshire, England 1815
The boy’s wails of distress shot straight through Daniel and into the depths of his withered heart with all the pain and harshness of a dull blade. The child, his eldest nephew, retreated as quickly as his stubby little legs would carry him. At the wise old age of three, the young man possessed a formidable, if somewhat unreliable and garbled, vocabulary which deserted him now as he scurried across the room. His mop of curls, in the trademark raven shade sported by most Langdon men, bounced wildly atop his head. Defaulting to crying out his upset, he brought the entire house running to his defense while Daniel slunk into the corner.
Ammy, Daniel’s sister Amaryllis, arrived first. A mother always gains the greatest speed at the call of her mishandled child. Taking the boy into her arms, she began a recitation of assurances interspersed with kisses and gentle patting, all the while glancing him over with a dexterity surpassing the expert observation of a surgeon. The next gauntlet of similar movements and assurances followed in quick succession from the boy’s father, an actual surgeon and long-standing family friend, Gavin MacAllister.
The brightness of the room belied the stifling atmosphere descending with the additional family members, the air rippling with unvoiced accusation, anger, and fear. Though Admiral Langdon’s study now belonged to Daniel as the current Earl, his youngest brother, Eric, who managed the day-to-day family affairs and estate, used the space more often and far more efficiently while Daniel and their other brother, James, were out to sea.
The family insisted that, as head of the household, Daniel reserved first access to the space, but he never felt himself comfortable there. He used the room more as a retreat than for any sort of business endeavor. In truth, he understood little of the household affairs and didn’t wish to interrupt or make a mess of Eric’s work. He therefore tended to avoid touching anything when he went into the study but took solace in pacing the familiar space which none of them had changed since their father’s death. The admiral’s sudden loss in battle left them all clinging to familiar reminders of his presence.
Daniel’s eyes slid over and across his surroundings, looking for comfort on the shelves and in the golden light streaming in from the beveled window behind the desk. They came to rest on the small ship sailing an endless ocean inside the confines of a bottle. He passed innumerable carefree days on that frigate, harassing his father’s sailors with endless questions. How he wished he could shrink himself down, know again the glee of running along those decks with abandon, never thinking a storm might lie ahead.
The actual vessel eventually succumbed to age and modernization, deteriorating into uselessness and abandoned for scrap. Was that all Daniel had to look forward to now? Shutting his eyes against the thought, he blinked them open again as the whimpers of his nephew receded, transforming into soggy sniffles. He forced his attention back to the lad, intent on remembering the harm he caused.
Watching the commotion in silence from his half-hidden post, he awaited the inevitable glance from his sister, the one filled with worry and disappointment heavy enough to drag him at a minimum one level deeper into his personal hell. The wait proved short, his guilt heightened by Ammy’s struggle to bring herself back to standing under the burden of her belly, rounded with her second child. She accomplished the feat with her husband’s assistance. Two levels. Having ascertained her child was more frightened than hurt, she relinquished control of him to Gavin and turned her attention to Daniel with a questioning look.
“What happened?”
Daniel shifted his weight, clasping his hands behind him and feeling no closer to adulthood than his nephew under his sister’s stern gaze. “I—” He darted a glance at the chaise, the location of the crime. “I must have fallen asleep reading. He came in, and...” He shifted again, swallowing, and resisting the urge to tug at his over-tight cravat. “He startled me.”
Ammy’s countenance fell and her shoulders drooped with a sigh. She looked to her husband, who was doing an amiable job of restraining his anger. His justified anger. Had it been Daniel’s son, he would have taken the man to task first and asked what happened second. Daniel almost wished someone would take him to task. This had all become the unsavory secret, the elephant in the room. Daniel wasn’t right anymore, and he knew it.
The war with Napoleon was over, but a much darker battle raged constantly in the confines of his mind, robbing him of sleep and overtaking his impulses without warning. Yet his family insisted on treating him as though nothing had changed, dismissing his outbursts and gruff behavior as though it never occurred. All their good intentions only served to infuriate him further. Not with them, but with himself, more to the point, his inability to control his anger and outbursts, or seemingly his physical actions.
The boy did nothing wrong. In fact, Daniel quite liked the child and, until today, thought his nephew had taken a fancy to him as well. They enjoyed friendly tussling and playtime in the yard whenever Daniel could muster it, and the happy, innocent, honest character of the child even provided a somewhat calming effect. But the fear always lingered in the back of his mind. His unpredictability engendered a constant fear of a scenario like this.
A bout of reading before tea resulted in him falling asleep on the chaise. Nights offered little reprieve from his demons, he often spent more time awake or caught in the throes of nightmares than resting. The little boy came in and, he presumed, saw an opportunity for play in his lounging uncle. Toddling over, he tugged at Daniel’s sleeve, but instead of receiving the smiling and happy reception the boy expected, given that was the normal reaction to his presence, Daniel woke with a start. First, he shoved the child with a harsh shift of his arm, then darted the arm out to grab him by the collar, even going so far as to lift the poor lad off his feet before realizing his actions. The expression he gave the child also lacked pleasant invitation, as evidenced by the immediate crumpling of his nephew’s features after his initial wide-eyed shock, and the onset of loud wailing.
Daniel attempted to calm him, setting him down and reaching to straighten his newly rumpled clothing, but the instant he let go of him, the boy turned tail and ran, shouting for his mother.
“I’ll tak’ him tae cook,” Gavin stated, still not meeting Daniel’s gaze. “Aam sure she’s got a biscuit or two hidden away ‘at will set him right again.”
Ammy nodded and gave a soft smile as her husband turned and headed toward the kitchen, but neither of them could hide the worry on their brows or the uncertainty in their eyes.
Coming home amounted to an avoidable mistake, but the Admiralty gave him little choice and less time to consider alternative opt
ions. His mind reeled, straining to find an answer, to find some retreat for him, but failing. The only thing he understood with certainty was he couldn’t stay here.
He loved his family, and both nostalgia and anticipation always accompanied coming home, but he would never knowingly bring danger into their midst or uncertainty into the home, and he could no longer convince himself of his ability to safeguard his family. Continuing the illusion of normalcy only prolonged the inevitable, and the responsibility of initiating change fell to his shoulders, not any of his family members.
Ammy turned toward him but before she had a chance to do more than open her mouth and take a breath, Daniel stormed out of the room. He lacked the strength to resist Ammy’s apologies or her repeated phrases of understanding, both becoming far too frequent from the lips of all his family members. He wanted too dearly to believe them, to think this time was the last time. An intense loathing overtook him, a despisal of himself and a desire to remove himself from all things good and peaceful in the house because he could not claim those titles himself and therefore did not belong here.
“What are you doing?” Ammy’s voice sounded from the doorway as Daniel crammed a shirt into his valise.
“What does it look like I’m doing?” He countered, never looking up from his task.
“It looks like you’re running. And I can tell you from experience running doesn’t help.”
Daniel glanced over to where his sister leaned a shoulder against the door frame and sent him a cautious smile. She meant the reference to lighten his mood, her desperate flight to the docks and subsequent enlistment as a powder monkey in the navy, disguised as a boy, had become one of the family’s more amusing tales now that time had softened its edges and allowed the humor to shine through. Unfortunately, Daniel remembered all too well in his current state his overbearing insistence that she marry, which drove her to flight in the first place. He also remembered the sickening realization of how close he came to losing his sister thanks to that stupidity.
“The situations are not the same, Ammy,” he growled before giving his bag a shove and turning to face her. It had been his fault she ran away and would’ve been his fault if she’d been badly injured or killed. The only saving grace for his conscience was the fateful serendipity of Gavin being available to protect her. No, the situations differed greatly. She ran from an arranged marriage he had forced her into, Daniel was running from himself. Only Ammy’s flight had the possibility of success; his promised to be eternal. “I’m a danger to everyone here,” he admitted, “and it will have to be my burden to admit the fact, since no one else seems willing to do so.”
“Daniel, you’re not a danger,” Ammy stepped into the room, a harsh line forming between her brows as she began to shake her head at him.
“Oh no? I startled the wits out of your poor boy, and I could just as easily have hit him. I didn’t realize my actions until the damage was already done. I won’t have that on my head or my conscience.”
She came to a halt in front of him, clamping her lips together and worrying her brow further as she let her eyes fall to inspect a button on his vest. Daniel ground his teeth and let out a harsh sigh, sympathizing with his sister’s plight. She wanted to deny his words, and he wanted to let her, but this charade lingered now far past any possibility of truth. He turned from her, raking his fingers through his hair as he marched toward the fireplace, cold and swept clean of ashes. Gripping the edges of the mantle, he stared at the painting above it, a sleek sailing ship of a century past cutting through white-capped waves.
The room he occupied as a boy should have provided comfort. It surrounded him with fond memories and warmth. Upon inheriting the title, he saw no reason to displace his mother from the master suite, he remained unmarried and out to sea more often than not. He let his head hang; that might not be the case anymore. The Admiralty gave him no clear answer as to when he might be needed aboard a ship again.
“The war has been a trying time,” Ammy’s soft voice sounded behind him, reminding him of her presence. “It’s taken a toll on all the men in it, but once you settle back into—”
“And if I don’t?” He challenged, whirling on her with enough speed to send her eyebrows shooting up and her eyes widening. “I’m not right in the mind, Ammy, those sorts of ailments don’t just disappear.”
“Daniel that’s not true—”
“It is. And all the effort you, mother, and everyone else are putting into denying it hasn’t changed the fact. I should think that would be quite obvious by now.” He noted her flinch and almost lost his desire to continue, but if he failed to make his point now, he might never try again. Softening his tone, he forced himself to continue. “The Admiralty doesn’t give extended furloughs to decorated captains. They put them to work. This leave of mine is nothing more than an acknowledgment that the Admiralty appreciates my efforts, but I’m an embarrassment to them.”
Heaving a sigh, he ran a hand over his face. “And very likely would’ve been an embarrassment to father had he lived.” A noise somewhere between a disgusted laugh and a snort escaped him. “The son of an admiral and can’t be trusted to maintain his composure around a three-year-old. Who in their right mind would entrust me with a ship full of sea-hardened men?”
Shaking his head, he removed himself to the far side of his bed where he could sit and stare out the window at the overcast sky. Silence stretched long enough he thought Ammy must have retreated. When she spoke again, it startled him.
“Daniel,” She began in a quiet tone, walking around to join him and sinking heavily onto the mattress beside him. “Gavin made a suggestion which might provide another option for you.” She paused, chewing on her lip.
Daniel debated whether he should be intrigued or worried. From the corner of his eye, he observed her mulling over her thoughts and coming to a conclusion, taking in a breath before she continued. “As you’ve indicated, you do have the time now to think things over,”
He couldn’t help but snort at that, earning himself a sharp glare.
“And if you truly do need to leave,” she began to grip and twist her hands together as a lead weight made itself known in the pit of Daniel’s stomach. “Though none of us wish to see you go...”
“Out with it, Ammy, you’re killing me,” he sent her a reassuring smile and nudged her shoulder with his in the manner of their long-lost childhood days. The eldest of his sisters and James’ twin, she spent several years cavorting with her brothers before the arrival of another sister gave her the option of more refined activity.
“There’s a family errand he’s been concerned about which would take him to Scotland. Since now is not the best time for him to travel,” she nodded toward her protruding belly, “He wondered if you might agree to undertake it for him.” She finished the statement in a rush, clamping her mouth shut and raising unsure eyes to him.
“Scotland?” he blinked.
“Yes, if you are open to the idea, he can speak with you more about it, but it sounds as though he thinks there might be some issue or trouble with his family estate that he hasn’t received all the information for. Trying to sort it all with correspondence to his Aunts would be time-consuming, it would be much more expedient to go in person or send an agent.” She hazarded an expectant gaze up at him.
Daniel couldn’t say he felt any drive to visit Scotland, but it fit the bill of sending him to the hinterlands and provided the additional boon of a destination and occupation. Swallowing, he nodded. “Scotland it is, then.”
Chapter 2
Lenore rubbed at her eyes, exhaling harshly and turning toward the window to avoid lowering her head to the desk in defeat. The papers she spent the past two days poring over sat scattered across the desk, a jumble of legalities and details, none of which made any sense to her. Though she shared in the estate business with her brother, Gavin, he handled the lion’s share, and she gladly gave it over to him. Legalities and estate matters were, after all, a man’s domain. That thoug
ht now seemed more like a convenient excuse...
A thin and transparent excuse, given she came from a long line of perfectly capable and domineering women. Her mother wanted her to gain a better understanding of all the components of the household, not only those related to the internal domestic details. As a girl and young woman, she considered it all exceedingly boring, and once she advanced into the age of gaining recognition by the men around her, she failed to comprehend the worth in continuing her education.
Now here she sat, a confirmed spinster of, unable to make heads nor tails of the information in front of her. Information which could cost her family their Scottish estate. For all Gavin had laughed at her misery in sharing his lessons, she could bet he would be far from laughing now.
She tightened her shawl around her shoulders and stood on stiff legs to wander toward the window. The warm glow shining through the narrow expanse of thick paneled glass lingered deceptively, highlighting the distorted wash of summer colors just on the other side while she continued to shiver in the cool of untraceable drafts.
The MacAllister estate towered regal and majestic over timeless moors, one side standing guard against the beauteous wilds of the highlands, the other rooted fast before a tumultuous sea. A fairy tale castle in her childhood memories, the edifice displayed far more displeasing qualities under the harsh light of adulthood.
The manor house truly was a castle, built of unyielding stone generations ago, battered by the sea and the elements for centuries until the damp became permanent along the walls and warped woodwork. No tapestry succeeded at preventing the howl of highland winds from wending its way into the interior. She understood better now her parents’ decision to move the family to England’s climes.
The Captain's Surrender (Currents of Love Book 6) Page 1