He would have to take his mother’s advice and mix with society.
And for what? To show Lady Barbara what a catch I am? I would do better to keep to myself until May rather than waste my time on fruitless pursuits.
Torn between these two resolutions, he set about the rest of his day with a discomfited frown on his face, most likely frightening the servants.
Chapter 14
Walking to the orphanage every day, which had once been as automatic and easy as breathing itself, became a fraught experience for Barbara. Every day she woke up and gazed at her reflection in the mirror, adjusting her hair or her dress for some time before she could think of stepping outside.
She had once quietly laughed to herself about the silliness of ladies who dabbed rouge on their cheeks before stepping out their door or cared too much about their appearance.
Now I’m one of them.
The thought was sobering indeed, and she tried not to do it. And yet, there was always the chance of Captain Pemberton's showing up in his unannounced way at the orphanage. Although he had already seen her at her worst, she reasoned. That first time they’d crossed paths on the road, her hair had been all in a tangle and the dampness of the day meant that her dress had been in worse shape than even her usual. And yet he had turned back, twisting in his saddle to look back at her.
And he has remembered me. He’d said so at the ball.
These thoughts filled her mind every time she came to the orphanage, but it was several days until she saw him again.
She was sitting at one of the long tables in the dining hall. There was, as ever, a toddler on her lap, and she was spooning stew into the little boy’s mouth. The boy squirmed and a dollop of the rich beef broth dropped down the front of her dress. A swear nearly escaped her mouth at the sight of the dark stain seeping into the linen of her pale dress. She didn’t know if even the not inconsiderable talents of Rosie would be a match against this stain. She slid the boy off her lap and was on her way to the kitchen to see what she could manage with some hot soapy water when she, quite literally, bumped into Captain Pemberton.
“Lady Barbara!” he exclaimed. All at once, his large hands were on her shoulders, steadying her before she toppled to the ground. His touch quickened her pulse and for a moment she was tongue tied, gazing up at him in surprise.
Has he always been so handsome?
“Pardon me, Captain. I’m terribly sorry I…I suppose I was in a hurry; I wasn’t watching where I was going,” she stammered, her hand coming up to her chest to cover the stain on her dress. She felt her face growing hot in embarrassment at her clumsiness.
“It’s entirely my fault, I have a habit of stomping about like a bull. But where were you hurrying off to? It seems that I have interrupted something?” He raised a brow, its perfect arch framing his face.
“I was…oh, it’s nothing. I was only heading to the kitchen to…well you see, I was helping one of the young children with his stew and…” She laughed, dropping her hand. What difference did it make if he knew the extent of her clumsiness?
The Captain chuckled. It was odd, the thought that a man who could at times be so intimidating had such an easy laugh.
“Oh. You know, I happen to know just the trick for these sorts of things. May I help you?”
Barbara’s eyes widened in surprise. “Do you really? Yes, of course. The kitchen is this way.” She motioned in the direction she’d been heading, and they walked toward the room together.
The kitchen was, all things considered, too small for the size of the orphanage. The cook, a plump woman with a ruddy, friendly face, was heartily scrubbing a skillet under hot water when Barbara and the Captain came in.
“Lady Barbara!” the woman exclaimed.
“I’m sorry to interrupt, but we must try to save my dress,” Barbara explained with an apologetic smile. “This is Captain Pemberton.”
The woman glanced warily at the captain, and Barbara winced inwardly at the look of disguised horror that flitted across the cook’s face at the sight of his scars. Barbara looked at the Captain, but thankfully he did not seem to notice.
Or, more likely, he’s just used to it.
“Where do you keep your vinegar, madam?” he asked.
In a flurry of activity, Barbara was soon perched on a roughly hewn chair with Captain Pemberton kneeling before her. In a small dish, he was making a solution of hot water and vinegar with his fingers.
“The real trouble with these stains isn’t the color,” he explained. “Regular laundering will take care of that. The trouble is the animal grease. Vinegar lifts it.” He lifted his fingers, coated with the white paste, and was about to apply it to the stain when he seemed to catch himself. “Uh…you’d better…”
“Oh.” Barbara laughed; she knew she was blushing madly, but even the presence of the cook could do very little to dampen the rush of illicit pleasure she felt at his nearness. She dipped her fingers into the dish and began to work the paste into the stain on her chest.
“And where did you learn to be so knowledgeable about such things?” she asked, trying to make her voice sound light.
“Let no one tell you that the navy is no substitute for an education. I can think of no place better than the hull of a ship in stormy weather to quickly learn how to remove food stains from clothes. Dining at sea is altogether a singular experience.”
“Oh,” Barbara laughed. “I see. Are there no laundresses employed by the Royal Navy, then?”
“Why, are you looking for a position?” he said, with a quick glance at her eyes that, if she didn’t know better, she would think was decidedly flirtatious. “There are no women aboard when the sailors set out, Lady Barbara. In many minds this paints quite a rugged picture: a Land Without Women. But in practice, what it truly means is that you’re just as likely to find a salty old sailor mending socks quietly by candlelight as you are to find him crossing swords with a pirate.”
Barbara giggled. “I suppose I hadn’t thought of it that way.”
The stain on her dress looked as though it was certainly lifting, though now the front of her dress had a larger damp spot right on top of her right breast. Laughing, she pulled her shawl up over her shoulders, crossing it over her bust and tying a small knot at her back.
“This will have to do,” she pronounced. “Thank you very much for your advice.”
Captain Pemberton bowed his head. “It was my pleasure. No one will be the wiser.”
With the dish and cloth put away, they left the kitchen together. Barbara was painfully cognizant of his nearness as they walked down the narrow hallway. There was an unspoken intimacy between them, a peace in the silences that stretched through their conversation. Even without saying a word she found his presence more diverting than the most rambunctious entertainment.
Barbara was left to wonder what had brought him back to the orphanage so soon. She didn’t want to ask him, though, and so the question was left to hang in the air as they wandered back toward the dining hall. They could hear it well before they could see it, the sounds of laughter and children playing echoing off the walls of the church which had been built to amplify the sounds of choirs.
They stood just inside the doorway, both of them gazing out with contentment at the wildness of the children inside.
“I must confess, Lady Barbara, I did not think that an orphanage could be like this. My imagination supplied a much bleaker picture.”
“That is by design, Captain Pemberton,” she said, turning her head slightly to look at him. She was standing on the side of him that was scarred, but even with the fine half of his face obscured from her view, she found the sight of him unrepulsive. It was impossible not to be attracted to a man who gazed out on the fruits of her labor with such admiration in his eyes. “New orphans themselves surely carry the grimmest fears about what it will be like when they come to the orphanage. My main objective is to assuage their fears and provide as much comfort as possible. “
“Why orpha
ns?” he asked, looking at her from the corner of his eye. “Is there some personal reason that you care so much about this particular cause?”
Barbara sighed, crossing her arms over her chest and shrugging slightly. “Not particularly. I’m not an orphan, obviously, and I didn’t know any growing up. Perhaps it’s that I felt so lucky to grow up in such a loving home that the thought of any child not having that broke my heart. After my mother succumbed to consumption it just…felt right to throw myself into this.”
His eyebrow flicked upwards and he turned to face her more fully. “I’m sorry to hear that. How long ago was it?”
“Years,” she said with a sad smile. “I was devastated, of course. We all were. But I’m all right now. I have my father, naturally. And the children…”
He nodded minutely, then seemed to be considering his next words.
“I lost my father not too long ago. It’s not exactly the same as the loss of a mother, but I think I can understand your feelings somewhat.”
Barbara’s smile softened. “Together, we are two halves of a whole orphan.”
The captain chuckled. “Then perhaps it is appropriate that we should meet through your orphanage.”
A young woman in uniform was directing the children out the door to the garden now, and Barbara and the Captain followed sedately behind the energetic kids.
It was a cloudy day that threatened rain, but so far, the clouds had only produced a very fine misting that clung to the delicate petals of the early blooming crocuses. Barbara was drawn to the large willow that dominated the rear of the garden. Underneath the flowing tendrils of its branches, the ground was dry.
Barbara still had her arms crossed tightly around her, holding her shawl in place. There was a chill in the air, but the children didn’t seem to feel it as they ran and played. She and the Captain stood together in silence, and she had the feeling that she should say something.
“I…I feel that I should apologize,” she began. “For the other day.”
Again, he cocked an eyebrow at her. Despite his disfigurement, she found his facial expressions quite easy to read. At least, it was easy to tell when she surprised him.
“What do you mean?” he asked.
“I just…I got the impression that I may have caught you off guard at home. Perhaps it was impertinent of me to show up on your doorstep without an invitation, is all.”
For a moment he didn’t respond, but merely stared at her. Confusion and something unreadable colored his face.
“I was caught off guard. You’re right about that,” he said at last. “But you did nothing wrong. When there is business to attend to, it’s perfectly respectable to see to it at once. It was I who was in the wrong. I was rude, Miss Cluett. You must forgive me for being out of practice when it comes to matters of social politeness.”
“I didn’t think you were rude,” she said. He was standing quite near her, and her voice responded to that nearness by lowering to a near whisper.
“No?” he asked.
She shook her head slightly.
“Lady Barbara, Lady Barbara!” a child’s voice rang out. Barbara was shocked by the sudden intrusion of the rest of the world into that quiet sphere around herself and Captain Pemberton. She jumped and turned around.
Chapter 15
Jeffrey chuckled as a boy of nine years ran up to her. At the ball, he had gotten the impression that her involvement in the orphanage was mainly financial, but every time he came here and saw her interact with the children, he was made more and more aware of the truth. She was far from merely a patron of the orphanage. She was these children’s proxy mother. Despite her young age, she was brimming over with maternal care and love.
“What is it, Thomas?” she asked, hunching down.
“I’ve torn my nail on the ball. It smarts something terrible.” He lifted a dirty little hand to prove it.
“Oh dear,” she said, glancing back at him.
He nodded to her, indicating that she was perfectly free to interrupt their conversation to see to the needs of the child.
While she took Thomas inside to tend to his finger, Jeffrey stayed behind. The willow branches swayed above him on the cool breeze and the sounds of children playing brought back memories of his days at school. That was so long ago now. That was before the fire. He’d been a different person then. Looking out at the orphans, he wondered how different they would be as adults. Would they one day stand beneath a tree and think back to their time here?
He felt assured that their memories of their childhood would be warm ones. Thanks to Lady Barbara.
One of the older boys, maybe about age seventeen, was inching closer to the willow tree, looking anxious. Jeffrey felt sure that he was going to speak to him, but the boy seemed to lack the gumption. Jeffrey kept an eye on him from the corner of his vision.
Finally, the lad spoke up.
“Is it true you’re a captain of the Royal Navy?” he asked.
Jeffrey turned his head to look at the boy properly. He was a gangly youth, tall and thin with that peculiar look boys that age get. As if someone had come along and stretched him vertically. Apparently, he was growing too quickly for the resources of the orphanage to keep up with. His pants and the sleeves of his jacket were both about an inch too short.
“Aye,” Jeffrey answered.
“Do you like it?” The lad asked.
“What’s your name, boy?”
“It’s Frederic, Sir. Frederic Hanson.” He came closer to Jeffrey. His eyes had that hungry look of adolescence. Restlessness and ambition mixed together into that heady cocktail that was topped off with the combustible power of a growing obsession with girls.
“I suppose I do like it,” Jeffrey said. “Though I don’t tend to think of it in terms of like or dislike. Sailors are sailors because the salt of the sea runs through their blood, not because it seems like a pleasant way to spend a year or two. It takes a particular kind of man to thrive on the deck of a ship.”
The youth nodded enthusiastically. “How did you get to be a captain?”
“Blood and sweat, Fred. Blood and sweat.”
“Are you Lady Barbara’s brother?”
Jeffrey stifled a grin. Despite the practiced air of casual interest in the boy’s voice, it was immediately clear that Jeffrey had inadvertently tread into the path of this young man’s romantic ambitions.
“That I am not. Merely a patron of the orphanage. Captain Pemberton.”
“Oh. It’s just that, some of the others were wondering.”
“I see,” he said with a wry twist of his lip. “She is a remarkable lady, is she not?”
Frederic straightened his spine. “Yes, Sir. We are all quite possessive of her, to tell the truth. We’d be lost without her.”
Jeffrey couldn’t help but laugh. Leave it to an amorous teenager to be the only person on the planet who could fool himself into thinking that Jeffrey stood a chance with a lady like her. The boy’s jealousy was not apparently bound by the strictures of reality. Still, it felt kind of good to make another man jealous, even if the man in question was too young to grow a beard.
“Clearly, she has found her calling here. No one could dream of taking her away. The Lord help any man who tries.” he said.
The lad seemed to relax. Apparently, he was under the impression that if Lady Barbara married, her husband would not permit her to continue her work here. It was no wonder that she hadn’t married yet. She likely assumed the same thing.
But not me. If she married me, I wouldn’t change a thing about her. Not a thing.
“I have thought that maybe I could get in the king’s navy too.” Frederic had continued his initial train of thought.
I’m an idiot to even imagine it. She will never be my wife.
“Is that so?” Jeffrey attempted to draw his mind back to reality. Thoughts of waking up next to her, of coming home after a voyage to find her waiting for him, of kissing her whenever he wanted to, had threatened to take over his tho
ughts completely.
“Yes, Sir. I’m not afraid. I think it would be a grand adventure.”
Jeffrey was distracted by the reappearance of the Lady herself. Young Thomas’s finger had a small bandage around it and a candy clutched in his hand as he ran off to rejoin his friends.
“Frederic, are you bothering Captain Pemberton?” Lady Barbara asked as she joined them under the willow.
A Seductive Lady For The Scarred Earl (Steamy Regency Romance) Page 10