Her Heart's Captain (11 page)

Those piercing eyes were instantly recognizable. She felt, herself color up, and she had to fight a cowardly urge to run and hide. Instinctively, she grasped Toby's arm for support. Toby, who'd been looking at her quizzically, now followed the direction of her gaze.

Captain Allenby, surrounded by a large number of other guests, was staring directly at Jenny. It seemed to Toby that the fellow had been watching the doorway for her arrival. Had Jenny met the captain before? One would almost think something had passed between them. He looked down at Jenny and then back at the captain. To his sudden discomfort, he found the captain now staring at
him
with a dark, rather glowering frown. Toby blinked back uncomfortably, feeling a sudden admiration for Robbie;
he
certainly wouldn't care to find himself under that fellow's command.

Jenny, too, had the feeling that Captain Allenby had been watching for her, but the idea was too ridiculous. He was completely surrounded by fawning women. Even Andrea seemed to be hanging on him, looking up at him admiringly. Jenny could see why the women were drawn to him. He was imposingly tall, and although in the light of the chandelier he looked darker and more weathered than he had in the sunshine of the dock at Portsmouth, he was nevertheless devilishly attractive. His evening clothes set off his dark skin and eyes to advantage, and the lines of his face and the touch of grey at his temples only gave his face a stronger character and made him seem more appealing. There was no sign in that face of the monstrous cruelty she now knew was a part of his character. No one else could notice the stoniness she now could detect in his jaw or the glitter of coldness she could see in his eyes. She couldn't expect the others to see it. All they could recognize was the aura of drama and excitement he exuded, the sense of adventure, the aroma of courage, the smell of command. It was like an essence that surrounded him, a vapor that could tickle one's nostrils and dizzy one's senses, like a whiff of the sea itself, and it could easily mask the true character of the man beneath.

Yes, she could see why the others were so taken with him. She'd once been taken with him herself.
But why, with all that adoration surrounding him
, she wondered in considerable agitation,
is he staring so fixedly at me?

Toby nudged her gently and began to guide her into the room, but before they'd gone three steps, Lord Clement stepped forward and claimed her arm. “Come with me, Jenny. My sister wishes to meet you,” he said jovially and drew her away.

Lady Rowcliffe was sitting on a sofa near the window, surrounded by a circle of admirers of her own, one of whom was Lady Garvin. But when Lord Clement came up to her with Jenny on his arm, Lady Rowcliffe turned away from the circle and looked up at once. Mrs. Boyce, who was about to engage her in conversation, looked very disappointed.

“So you are Jenny Garvin,” Lady Rowcliffe murmured, staring up at the girl intently.

“How do you do, your ladyship?” Jenny said with a little bob, discomfitted by the intensity of Lady Rowcliffe's scrutiny. There was little about the diminutive, grey-haired lady to suggest she was Captain Allenby's mother except for that disconcerting gleam of the eyes.

“I've been looking forward to making your acquaintance, my dear,” the older woman said with a small smile.

“M-Mine?”

“Yes, my dear, yours. Are you surprised?”

“Well, I … I didn't suppose you'd even
heard
of me …” the embarrassed girl responded awkwardly.

Lady Garvin glowered at her daughter, annoyed at her
gaucherie
and still seething over Jenny's replacement of the apricot-silk gown. “My daughter,” she remarked with a look of unmistakable disparagement, “is not at her best at social gatherings.”

Lady Rowcliffe turned to peer at Lady Garvin for a moment, her shrewd eyes unreadable. “Isn't she?”

Jenny colored painfully. “It's been an … an honor to meet you, ma'am. If you'll excuse me, I won't any longer interrupt your conversation.” She took a step backward and started to turn away.

“No, child, please don't go,” Lady Rowcliffe urged. There was something about the girl that touched her—some clear, undaunted look in the eye. Shy and sensitive to insults, the young woman seemed nevertheless to have a streak of independence under the demure exterior. “Do sit down and chat with me a moment.” She moved over on the sofa to make room. “I've heard so much about you from … from my sister-in-law that I wish to become better acquainted.”

There was nothing for Jenny to do but acquiesce. She sat down beside the older woman, clenched her hands in her lap and murmured, “It was kind of Lady Clement to mention me.”

“She told me you were very pretty, but she didn't say that you are quite out of the common way.”

Jenny's eyes flew up to Lady Rowcliffe's face. “Am I, ma'am?” She was not at all sure what the woman had meant by that remark, and she quickly turned her eyes down to her hands again. “That's the sort of thing one says to console a girl for
not
being pretty, isn't it?”

“
Jenny
!” Lady Garvin exclaimed in sharp disapproval.

Lady Rowclifle put up a restraining hand toward Lady Garvin but otherwise ignored the interruption. “I suppose some might do so, but in this case it was not what I meant. It was intended as a compliment. Your look
is
unusual, you know.” She cocked her head and studied Jenny's face with surprising directness. “There's something more in you of beauty than mere prettiness, I think. The sort of face an artist would seek. Has no one ever told you that?”

“No, your ladyship. Never,” Jenny said, looking at Lady Rowclifle in wonder.

“In fact, you put me in mind of a Renaissance painting I saw in Italy. Not that you look like the girl in the painting, exactly, but you have the same quality of … of clear-eyed sweetness.”

“Oh, Lady
Rowcliffe
!” Jenny breathed, quite overwhelmed.

Lady Rowcliffe smiled. “It was by Antonello da Messina, called
The Annunciation
. Have you ever seen it?”

“No, ma'am. I've never been to Italy.”

“Well, you'll go one day. When you do, and you see the painting, you'll remember my words and feel very pleased.”

“I feel very pleased now,” Jenny said quietly, throwing Lady Rowcliffe a quick, if tremulous smile. Then, looking down at her hands again, she added, “And I'll remember your words whether or not I ever see the painting.”

Not accustomed to compliments
, Lady Rowcliffe thought as she leaned over and patted the girl's clenched hands. This sweet child was not without spirit, and she was indeed beautiful, in an odd, understated way. Leave it to her son to find himself an unusual creature like this. I
like her
, she thought in surprise. If she was any judge, the girl was sensitive and complicated. It would take some patience to draw her out. But Lady Rowcliffe felt exhilarated at the prospect. This was not some innocuous country mouse but a creature of value and depth. Lady Rowcliffe could see it even if the chit's own
mother
didn't have the sense to realize it. She couldn't help but wonder what damage the mother had done to the girl's development.

But her speculations were interrupted by the approach of her brother. He was returning, this time with Tris in tow.

Lord Clement stopped before Jenny and cleared his throat. “My nephew has asked me to present him to you, Jenny, my dear. It seems that, in all the commotion of your arrival, I somehow neglected to introduce you. Miss Garvin, Captain Allenby.”

Lady Rowcliffe could feel the girl stiffen as Tris bowed over her hand. She could feel a sudden and alarming tension pervade the girl's entire body. What was wrong with her?

Tris, however, was grinning down at her warmly. “You may remember that we've met before, Miss Garvin,” he said, “but since we hadn't introduced ourselves on that occasion, I thought that it might be wise to convince my uncle to make up the omission.”

There was no answering warmth in the girl's face. “How do you do, Captain Allenby?” she said, unmistakably cold.

That the iciness of her reply was a blow to her son may not have been obvious to anyone else, but to Lady Rowcliffe it was unmistakable. He looked as if cold water had been dashed into his face. Lady Rowcliffe felt her breath catch in her chest.

“You do remember me, don't you, Miss Garvin?” he asked, bewildered.

“Yes, of course, Captain.”

“She's told us all how you rescued her from her own stupidity,” Lady Garvin put in, sensing a certain awkwardness in the air. “You must let me express my gratitude, Captain Allenby, even though belatedly.”

The captain, nonplussed by Jenny's lack of response, turned to her mother. “Thank you, ma'am,” he said with a bow, “but you must not believe that I was reminding your daughter of the incident because I wish to be thanked. I had only hoped—”

But his hope was not to be expressed. The butler threw open the dining-room doors at that moment, and Andrea pranced up to Tris and boldly took hold of his arm. “Papa says that he will escort Aunt Dulcie in to dinner first and that you are to follow with me.” She tossed her head with her most confident “air” and gave him an enticing smile. “Are you ready, Cousin Tris?”

He took a deep breath and forced a smile. “I'm not at all certain that I'm ready for
you
, Cousin Andrea,” he said, teasing, “but I'm quite ready for dinner.”

He let her lead him off, throwing back only one look over his shoulder at the girl he'd come so far and so eagerly to see, but her eyes were resolutely fixed on the hands in her lap. Instead, he met his mother's eyes.
What's gone wrong?
she seemed to ask.

He flashed back an answer.
I only wish I knew
.

Chapter Nine

The three Garvins were silent on their ride home from the dinner party. While their heads teemed with impressions of the evening which, normally, they would have been eager to share with the others, they each found, tonight, that they needed to think before they spoke. Robbie, for one, was preoccupied with speculations about his relationship with his captain. The evening had been most interesting. He'd had only one real opportunity to converse with Allenby—at the table after the women had withdrawn. He'd found the captain surprisingly cordial. Allenby had shown interest in his comments and had not been patronizing in the slightest way. There had been no sign of the cold, indifferent commander he'd been aboard ship. If he still held Robbie in dislike (or even remembered that he had, on two occasions, given him a most severe scold), there was no sign of it. They'd conversed without strain, and even reminisced about a couple of events which had occurred on the voyage—and all without awkwardness.
Could it be
, Robbie wondered as the carriage rolled through the blackness of the night,
that I can still find favor in the captain's eyes?
His hopes for a successful naval career began to soar again.

Lady Garvin, too, was lost in thought. For her it had been a strange sort of evening. She'd found Captain Allenby not at all detestable, and this had confused her. Her son had given her the distinct impression that the man was a beast. It was possible, of course, that Allenby could be hateful on shipboard and quite the opposite on land; there were
women
on land, and men often benefited from the company of women. The truth was that she'd found him a charming, approachable gentleman, and she busily made plans in her mind about how to take advantage of that approachability. She intended to seek out his Her Heart's Captain company whenever possible and slowly convince him of her son's many merits. She was certain that he would be receptive to her suggestions.

She had expected to dislike Allenby and admire his mother, but she'd found that her response had been quite the reverse. Captain Allenby had been very likeable, but, to her, Lady Rowcliffe was formidable and cold. The London matron had obviously taken her, Lady Garvin, in dislike, although she couldn't imagine why. She reviewed her behavior from the time of her arrival to the time of departure but could fix on nothing that she'd said or done to cause Lady Rowcliffe to despise her.

More confusing still was her ladyship's delight in Jenny. Lady Garvin was Jenny's mother and would yield to no one in her devotion to her child, but she couldn't imagine why Lady Rowcliffe found the girl so interesting.
Beautiful
, she'd said. What nonsense! In that colorless poplin gown the girl had chosen to wear even she, Jenny's own mother, had to admit the girl looked nondescript. And in conversation she'd shown herself graceless and flat. In contrast, there had been Andrea, glowing in a gown of turquoise lustring, laughing, flirting, singing and holding everyone's attention with her air of self-assurance. Yet Lady Rowcliffe had not paid her own niece half the attention she'd showered on Jenny. What did it mean?

Lady Garvin glanced at Jenny, sitting opposite her in the carriage. The girl's eyes were fixed on the window as if she could see something in the blackness beyond. She really ought to give the girl a proper scold for what she'd done tonight. After all, hadn't she given Jenny her very best silk to have the apricot gown made? Why had the ungrateful girl spurned it? She deserved to be chastised with a severe tongue-lashing. But Lady Rowcliffe, who was reputed to have exquisite taste, had found Jenny beautiful. Even in the dove-grey gown! It gave one pause. Perhaps she'd better think of it further before she gave Jenny a reprimand. It was all quite puzzling.

Jenny, staring unseeing into the dark, had found the evening alternately thrilling and terrifying. Never in her life had she been subjected to so much attention, nor had she ever suffered such extremes of emotion. It would take hours of cogitation, she imagined, before she could understand all that had occurred. But one thing was already quite clear: it would take all her will to keep in mind the fact that Captain Allenby was a beast. He had certainly made himself very likeable this evening.