Georgana's Secret (Proper Romance)

by Arlem Hawks

  Dominic smiled. He’d relay the story of his wound in private later. If Georgana heard him try to misrepresent it as a minor injury, he could only imagine the glare he would get.

  His mother looked past him, and her mouth formed a little O. “Mercy, you’ve brought me a daughter.”

  A daughter! He wanted to clap a hand over his eyes. What would Georgana think? “Oh, no, Mother,” Dominic said hastily. “May I present Miss Woodall. And Captain Woodall.”

  The joy in the woman’s eyes did not dim. She held out her arms to Georgana. “Miss Woodall! Oh, my dear child, I’ve been looking for you.”

  A tremor shook Georgana’s chin as she embraced his mother. Dominic blinked rapidly, overcome by the sight of his whole world together on a small porch in the middle of Portsmouth. The sea breeze sighed down the lane, and all was almost right.

  If only for a moment.

  Chapter 38

  I cannot believe your stamina, Miss Woodall,” Dominic’s mother said as she sat near the fire. “One woman in the midst of all those men for three years? I love my boys, but I could not tolerate them without some female company once in a while.”

  Dominic winced. They hadn’t told her the complete details of Georgana’s stay on the Deborah yet. He didn’t want to embarrass Georgana in front of someone she’d only just met.

  When his mother rose to see about the status of dinner, he excused himself as well and stopped her in the hall. “Mother, there is something you should know about Miss Woodall,” he said in a low voice. “She has lived these three years under the disguise of a ship’s boy.”

  “She was a member of the navy?” His mother glanced past him toward the drawing room. He flinched at her stare. “Why have you not married her yet?”

  He should have known the knowledge wouldn’t shock her. Dominic ran a hand through his long hair. “She does not wish to be attached to the navy any longer. She told me in no uncertain terms. They will return to Town and find her a husband with a London house and a country estate, not a sailor on a ship.”

  Mother’s eyes squeezed nearly shut. “I’m sorry, my son.” She took both his hands. “Do not give up hope.”

  He didn’t want to. He so fiercely did not want to. But Georgana’s mind was made up. What could he do against a determined lady? “You did not give up hope on Father and his treatment of you, and nothing came of it.” He hated bringing up his father and the sorrow that appeared on his mother’s face.

  She gripped his hands. “No, nothing did. But that hope sustained me for many years. It gave me strength to face the dark times. All is not lost, Dominic.”

  He smiled to reassure her, but inside he did not believe it. His love of the sea aside, the navy was his livelihood. Without it, he couldn’t care for Georgana. With it, he couldn’t have her.

  “Perhaps you could start in the other direction,” Mother said, dropping his hands. “I’ve secured a fine port for you and the captain tonight.”

  The captain? The man’s stern face from the coach ride burst into Dominic’s thoughts. He did not want to spend time alone with the captain just now. “Oh, I’m certain he wouldn’t mind forgoing port, since our company is so small.”

  “Nonsense.” Mother waved a hand. “I insist you take the opportunity.” She raised her shoulders to her ears and beamed. “I’ll see to dinner.”

  And so, after a comfortably quiet dinner in which his mother had no qualms doing most of the talking, Dominic remained in the dining room for a post-dinner drink with the man he had at one time hoped would be his father-in-law. The captain wore the same look he had upon entering the carriage and finding his daughter in his first lieutenant’s arms.

  Dominic sat at the head of the table, twirling his glass in small circles around the tablecloth. He didn’t have the appetite for the drink tonight, and the captain seemed to feel the same since his also sat untouched. The silence made Dominic squirm. How long did he have to wait before suggesting they join the ladies?

  “I am recommending you for advancement to post-captain,” Captain Woodall said after several tense minutes. “You have proved yourself an able officer, and you will make a fine commander.”

  Dominic’s shoulders sank. Twice in the same year, he would have to refuse promotion. “I am very grateful for your confidence in me, sir, but I cannot accept it.”

  The captain’s brow rose. “Why not?”

  Dominic rubbed the back of his neck. “I refused my last chance at promotion for the sake of my mother. If a command cannot be soon secured, I worry she will suffer for the cut in funds. She lives much lower than her station as it is.”

  “You’ll have the dowry—that should make up the difference until a suitable command comes forth.”

  The dowry? Dominic paled. The captain thought everything was settled between his daughter and Dominic. It certainly would have appeared that way to anyone who happened upon them that afternoon. “Sir, I have already discussed an arrangement with Georgana. Miss Woodall.” He swallowed. “She is not in agreement.”

  Captain Woodall traced the foot of his glass with his thumb. “That surprises me. She adores you.”

  Did she? The words both excited and saddened Dominic. “She will not be left behind as her husband goes to sea.” He couldn’t fault her for that.

  The captain nodded thoughtfully. “Then don’t leave her behind.”

  “The Admiralty . . .” Dominic stared at the man beside him, who had faithfully followed the Admiralty’s orders to keep women off the ship—with one exception.

  “If you are the captain, you enforce the rules.” Captain Woodall shrugged. “Or don’t.”

  “I would not put a lady in that situation, to live in such crude and humble . . .” His voice trailed off at the captain’s wry look.

  “I think we both know Georgana is cut from tougher cloth than that.”

  A little spark in Dominic’s chest glimmered. Of course he’d known officers whose wives journeyed with them. But many did not enjoy the close quarters and harsh life, and Georgana had said she wanted to leave the navy. She didn’t want any part of it.

  “Did you discuss such an arrangement when you asked for her hand?”

  Dominic sighed. “No. She wouldn’t hear any more after I suggested I would enjoy coming home to her smiles.”

  He and the captain both cringed at the stupidity of his suggestion.

  “Might I suggest a different approach?” her father asked. “Perhaps by giving her the choice, she will see things in a different light. Heaven knows she deserves to choose her own path.”

  “Then, you give your blessing?”

  The captain rested his hand on the table and opened his fingers as though to thread them through the fingers on his other hand. Realizing his mistake, he closed his hand slowly and patted his fist against the table. “All that I want for Georgana is what I couldn’t give her during her childhood. Love. And peace.”

  “She never doubted you loved her, sir.”

  Captain Woodall smiled sadly. “Yes. She wouldn’t. But I couldn’t protect her. I couldn’t give her the love she needed, and her mother couldn’t make up for the pain inflicted by her grandmother. We failed her in so many ways.” He sniffed and adjusted his seat, turning his face from Dominic for a moment. “You are a passionate man, Peyton. You don’t attach yourself to something without giving your whole heart to doing the job right. You are also very compassionate, and I think after all she’s been through, my daughter needs some compassion in her life.”

  Dominic stood, sending the chair skidding across the floor behind him. The rushing in his ears made it hard for his mind to engage. He wanted this. Her father wanted this. And the warmth of Georgana’s kiss made him hope she wanted it as well. The captain watched him with glistening eyes, then reached for his glass and took a sip.

  “Will you send her to the study, please?” Dominic’s voice wavered in excitement, like a ship’s boy promoted to midshipman. Her father’s chuckle rumbled behind him as he made for the do
or.

  What would he say? He’d never been a man of words. Only a man of the sea. He prayed that could be enough.

  Georgana found her way down the dim hall, lit only by a few candles. Their flames swayed, the light pulsing across the walls like waves across an open sea. She had to walk slowly to keep her balance. Her body missed the sway of the ocean. It wouldn’t do to stagger like a drunken sailor now that she was a lady again.

  She paused at the door to the study. Inside Dominic paced before the hearth and brushed his fingers through his hair. She stayed to watch for a moment, capturing the image in her mind. The fire reflected off the gold trim on his uniform jacket.

  She pushed the door open wider. Dominic looked up and graced her with that grin that melted her insides. She’d missed it.

  “You called for me, sir?” She lifted her hand to the lace bandeau in a salute.

  Dominic stared at her a moment before shaking his head. He crossed the room and pulled her hand down. “None of that.” He didn’t let go of her hand.

  She laughed and let him pull her into the shadowy study. Little things—shells, driftwood, stones—lay scattered across the shelves. Slips of paper stuck out from beneath them.

  “I thought you said you collected these for someone.” She walked down the line of shelves, reading the looping handwriting.

  Jamaica, April 1804 to January 1805. Aboukir, January to November 1801. Malta, October 1807 to August 1808.

  “I did. For my mother.” From the desk, Dominic withdrew a quill, trimmed it, and uncapped an ink bottle. A scrap of paper rested before him on the desk. He extended the quill to her. “Will you write for this voyage?”

  How silly. She’d been jealous of a fictitious young lady when, really, the tokens were a gesture of thoughtfulness from a son to a patient mother. “Your mother doesn’t want to write it?”

  “She won’t mind.”

  Georgana took the pen and dipped it into the inkwell. Antigua, July to November 1810.

  She lifted it and blew to dry the ink.

  Dominic reached into his coat and pulled out the piece of green sea glass they’d found on the clear beach in Antigua. Had she ever experienced a more perfect day? Would she ever again? Despite the pristine sand and sparkling water, it was Dominic who had made it perfect.

  “Where will you put it?” he asked.

  She slid the glass, warm from being tucked so close to his heart, out of his hand and retraced her steps. She found the slick black stone from Malta labeled 1807 and placed the sea glass beside it. Dominic followed behind her to observe.

  “Why there?” His voice tickled her ear.

  She loved the feel of him so close. The taste of his kiss still lingered on her lips. Would it last when she was gone? He’d nearly been taken from her once. How could she allow it to happen again?

  “Because I began my life at sea in 1807,” she said. “And I ended it in 1810. The beginning and the end, right together.” That beginning had been so black, like the stone from Malta. Firelight caught the piece of sea glass, making it glow. But she had finally found some light.

  Dominic laid his hands on her arms. “Does this have to be the end?” She couldn’t see his face, but the pleading in his voice stung her already raw emotions.

  She slid her finger across the polished glass, made lovely by the endless beating of the waves. Did it have to end?

  His arms encircled her waist from behind, and he pulled her in. So many times on their voyage, she had longed to feel those arms around her.

  “Georgana, I cannot promise there will never come a time when we have to be apart,” he whispered, resting his head against hers, “but any ship I captained would not feel whole without you on it.”

  Her tears choked another laugh. “You will have the sea. Is she not the only woman you need?” He had sounded so sure of it that night at the bow.

  “The sea will never be the same without you beside me. It wasn’t the sea who sat at my bedside day after day. It wasn’t the sea who saved me. It wasn’t the sea who made each day brighter than the last.” His lips grazed her neck just behind her ear. “It was the girl with oceans in her eyes and love in her heart.”

  Though he held her tenderly, she found she couldn’t breathe. “We would have to marry soon. You might only have a few weeks before you’re sent to sea again.” She wished so desperately to agree. But the thought of watching his ship sail away while she stayed ashore . . . She didn’t know if she could do it.

  The corners of his lips curled against her skin. “I will agree with your first thought but not your second. Your father has recommended me for promotion. I shall have months before I leave again. Before we leave again.”

  Georgana whirled to face him. “Truly?” Before they left again. He and she. Together.

  He gave her brow the barest kiss. “Will you come with me, my darling Georgana? Share in whatever adventures the sea has for us?”

  She rested her hand on his waistcoat over the wound that had almost removed him completely from her world. The life he offered would not be an easy one. Rough seas, cramped and dank quarters, the carnage of battle, inescapable sickness. Weevils. Could she endure all that and more to be with him?

  A few months ago, she had known her answer. She had harbored no desire to set foot on a naval ship again. But she’d already overcome the worst the navy had to offer and discovered some of the best. And now the sea meant more than loneliness and suffering. It meant love.

  Her arms wrapped around him. How could the darkened room feel so bright? “I never imagined I would find such happiness on a ship,” she said.

  “Sometimes we find what we need in the least expected places.” He chuckled. “I never thought I’d fall in love with a cabin girl.”

  Georgana pushed herself up on her toes to kiss him, but he pulled back. “You haven’t answered my question. I’ve already put myself in trouble with your father once today for kissing you without an agreement.”

  “Yes.” She giggled as he crushed her to him and lifted her from the floor. And then he kissed her, settling her back on the ground as light as a gull landing on a yardarm. She took his face in her hands.

  His fingers wound into the short ends of her hair, just as they did the morning he awoke and she learned to breathe again, and to hope again. The past still lurked in the shadows of her memory, but the light of his grin kept it at bay. And while she still had to push back worries of the future, she knew she could face them by his side.

  He pulled away, breathless. She nestled her head against his chest, and he held her tight until their breathing slowed.

  “Will we have to invite your grandmother to the wedding?”

  “I know how to manage her.” She closed her eyes and tightened her grip around his waist. That woman would never control Georgana again.

  “Oh? How is that?”

  She raised her fist, mischief bubbling in her joyful soul. “Sound English cannon.” He stared.

  Then grinned.

  Then laughed. And covered her knuckles with little kisses until her mouth got jealous, and she pulled him in once more.

  Epilogue

  Portsmouth, England

  August 1811

  Georgana Peyton stood on HMS Marianne’s quarterdeck, watching her husband climb aloft. The boatswain and his mate surveyed the little frigate’s rigging on the deck below and cast curious glances at their new captain’s wife. They’d not been aboard five minutes before Dominic thought to climb the shroud.

  A few crewmen milled the deck, but most hands hadn’t been hired yet. Dominic would set about securing a crew as soon as he made a thorough inspection of the ship—which included climbing to the top of the mainmast. The crew would have to get used to such a passionate captain.

  One of the only familiar faces on the ship popped through the hatchway. He grabbed the brim of his cap in a salute and made his way in her direction. He stopped before ascending to the quarterdeck.

  “Good morning, Fitz,” Georgana said.
Now sixteen, the boy had begun to fill out his lanky form, and she was glad not to call him an enemy anymore.

  “Taylor,” he mumbled in greeting. “Ready to sail again?”

  Georgana’s stomach flipped. She didn’t know how to answer that. Eight months on land had made her appreciate a warm fire and a cup of tea that wasn’t constantly at risk of sloshing over the sides. She nodded above them. “If he is ready, then I shall be.”

  The boatswain made his way over to them, giving Fitz a reproachful stare. The boy didn’t wither under the look. Perhaps if the boatswain knew their history, he wouldn’t disapprove of the lad’s familiarity with the captain’s wife. But then again, it might shock him.

  “Pardon me, ma’am. When will he come down, do you think?” the boatswain asked.

  Georgana watched the blue-clad figure standing on the topmost platform, waving down at her. “He might never come down.”

  “The lady might have to fetch him,” Fitz said, then turned and hurried away before the boatswain could react. The older man shook his head, muttering an apology about ill-mannered ship’s boys. Georgana waved a hand to dismiss it. She’d seen much worse manners from Fitz. And a small part of her did want to climb the shroud to fetch her giddy husband.

  He would make a very different captain than her father. Though she appreciated that Papa had done his best on the Deborah, she looked forward to seeing how this crew would react to a more lively captain. Papa, still on an extended leave to recover from his wound, had hinted at a desire to leave the navy in his last letter. The thought saddened her. His Majesty’s navy had been her father’s home for so much of his life, but she couldn’t argue that he needed retirement.

  When finally Dominic made it back to the quarterdeck, he was out of breath, disheveled, and beaming like a little boy given his first pony. He gathered her in his arms, and she thought he would have kissed her if not for her stern look.