Home Is the Sailor (16 page)

“Our brother arrived without servants this time. Isn’t that curious? He told Leland that because he would be selling out soon, his man had been assigned to another officer, but Ronald is the last one I’d expect to see doing without a servant to look after his every need.”

Unless he meant to do some surreptitious reconnaissance, David thought. Or any activity for which he was unwilling to chance a witness who could testify against him. “He’s got poor James doing for him now, I believe.”

“Yes, and James has already asked Father for a character. I don’t suppose you know any gentlemen who would be in need of an excellent valet?”

He shook his head. “I can write to Kit, if you like. His wife’s father has just decided to settle in England and marry again. He’s a mere physician, though, and father-in-law to a baron, so I’m not certain if his blood’s blue enough for James.”

She smiled, but he could see her heart wasn’t in it. “I hope James can bear with him until Mother’s up and around—she hardly needs to have servants vanishing, on top of all the other troubles.”

“I’ll speak to him, if you think that would help. Would you like to go riding again tomorrow?”

“Oh, yes, if the weather permits. You had best warn Captain Marshall, though—I am sure Genie is well enough to go with us.”

He glanced over to the card table, where Genie was blinking helplessly at the cards in her hand. “Never. My bold Captain needs to learn how to defend himself in situations where a sword or pistol is out of place.”

“Your bold Captain.” She glanced at Will, then back to David. “He’s a quiet gentleman, but there’s no back-down in him, is there?”

He raised an eyebrow. “I hope you’re not getting ideas,” he said, truthfully.

She opened her eyes wide, doing a fair imitation of Genie at her least subtle. “Would
I
do such a thing?”

Normally, David Archer could read his sister’s meaning. This time he could not.

* * * * *

The next morning’s weather did permit them to ride, but only for an hour or so; a line of turbulent clouds made its way across the landscape so speedily that their party barely had time to reach the safety of the stable before a cold, drenching rain began to soak the earth. Lady Anne was waiting for them at the door, and bustled her youngest sister, who had begun sneezing, off to change her clothing. The other ladies went along with them, and Will was happy enough to follow Davy back to their quarters.

“You’re showing some improvement,” Davy said encouragingly. “If you could only find the rhythm to post when he trots, you’d soon find the other gaits more comfortable.”

“I’ll never make much of a rider, I know that,” Will responded. “But it was good to get out of the house and into the open air. I do believe my balance is improving—at least, the horse’s movements are becoming less of a surprise. The boots help, I think.”

“I hoped they might.” In the course of keeping some promise to his sister, Davy had gone off to consult with Mark’s valet the evening before, and had begged the use of a pair of his late brother’s old riding boots—
not
, he had been careful to explain to Will, the top-boots that might make him look as though he was putting on airs.

Davy pulled a chair close to the fire and stuck out his own booted foot. “Here, give me a hand with these, would you? I know you’d rather not call for a valet. I’ll help you with yours, too.”

“Thank you!” Will dropped to one knee and smiled up at him wistfully as he drew the boot off. He ran an admiring hand down Davy’s buckskin-clad thigh. “I’d be happy to help with any other articles you might wish to remove, sir, but…”

“Alas, just the boots,” Davy said, returning the smile. “Where’s a handy tree when you need one?”

“Out in the downpour,” Will said, propping the second empty boot beside the first and restraining his impulse to offer more personal services. “My turn.”

“As we came inside, I was thinking of what that squall would be like at sea,” Davy said, trading places with him. “Hatches battened, the rain falling sideways, and next to no difference between being soaked on deck or dripping wet in the cabin.”

Will glanced at the fire, appreciating the warmth and the clean, dry room. “If we were at sea, we’d be too busy or too weary to think of the damp, but I can’t say I miss it. This is certainly more comfortable.”

“Physically, yes.” Davy picked up both pair of boots and took them over to leave outside the door for cleaning. He came back to the other chair and stretched his own feet out to the fire. “I think we may both wish we were back on the
Mermaid
by the time we’re finished with supper. My sister-in-law Virginia is planning to join us.”

That sounded as though it ought to be a good thing, but Davy’s tone suggested anything but. “She is feeling better, then?”

“I couldn’t say. Amelia says she is ‘determined’ to join us, and I hate to imagine what that may mean. It might simply be that she’s grown bored, but I have to wonder…” Davy bit his lip. “Let me put it this way: all the charm she exerted to extract an offer from Mark vanished once the ring was on her finger. If he had not been the heir to Grenbrook, I doubt she would have made the effort, and she has always been certain, up to the moment each of her daughters was born, that she was carrying the next heir. Lia suggested I warn you that Virginia might well express some very strong opinions on the succession.”

Will had no idea what that might mean. “And how should I respond?”

“As noncommittally as possible, I think. I don’t like Virginia very much, Will, but I do pity her. The poor woman’s lost the chance to achieve her life’s ambition. She may still be the mother of a future Earl, but unless she has a son and he produces an heir of his own, her place here is not secure. And if the baby is a daughter, she’s lost it all.”

Will’s knowledge of succession in noble houses had always been vague at best—it had, after all, never been something that was likely to affect him personally. “Your father would not turn her out, would he?”

“Of course not. But Ronald would find a way to make her so uncomfortable here that she would leave—which she would likely do in any case. They’ve always had a cordial hatred for one another.” He laughed at Will’s obvious dismay. “My poor Will, I apologize for bringing you into such a tangle. I grew up with all these conflicts and undercurrents, and never gave them much thought—no more than a fish would think about the rocks and rapids in a stream.”

“It’s natural enough, I suppose,” Will said. “Much like being First Lieutenant on a man o’ war and then being pushed back to Fourth when a few replacements with more seniority come aboard.”

“Except it’s not likely Virginia would be able to work her way back up now, and she’ll never make Post Captain in this command.”

Will was glad enough for the warning when they were gathering to go into the dining room, and before very long he found himself churlishly wishing that Lady Virginia had stayed sequestered in her suite. When he was introduced to the widow, she seemed barely aware of his presence, which he found perfectly acceptable. But the moment Ronald Archer walked into the room, her hostility was made quite palpable with an indrawn hiss. She drew Lady Anne aside, and a moment later Davy’s sister quietly asked Will to sit beside Lady Virginia instead of Lady Amelia, adding in an undertone that it distressed the widow to sit beside the man who would one day take her husband’s place as head of the family.

“Of course,” Will responded immediately, wondering how the Honorable Ronald would react to giving up pride of place to a mere naval commander. But Lady Anne was speaking to him now; his brows drew together, but he nodded, obviously displeased but not willing to make a fuss about it.

If one took a step back and observed the lines of communication, this small change became a demonstration of social tactics. Lady Anne received the instruction, no doubt couched as a request; she passed it on immediately, then shared it with Lady Amelia, who spoke to her father, and the two ladies disseminated the information to the rest of the fleet. By the time the family proceeded in to dine, there was no sign that the order of their going was in any way out of the ordinary.

That façade of serenity began to crumble as soon as the first course was served and everyone began to make conversation with their companions. Lady Virginia did not bother to even touch her food. She fixed Will with an intense gaze and said, “You must help me.”

“In what way, my lady?” he asked, wondering if she had dropped her napkin or some other small item.

“My son,” she said, placing a hand just below the ribbon marking the high waistband of her gown. “David is a loyal brother, and you are his friend. I know that I can place my confidence in you.” She had high cheekbones and rather deep-set blue eyes that made him think of pictures of some of the more fanatical martyrs. Will really did not wish to be the repository of her confidence.

“I...shall do everything possible, my lady,” he said uneasily. He glanced across the table to Davy, who appeared to be considering what Eugenie was telling him. But Davy had his eye on Ronald—who was listening attentively to Virginia’s rambling.

“That would be precisely nothing, Commander,” Ronald drawled. “Virginia, you must be taking far too much cordial, or whatever you’ve been quacking yourself with. With all respect, madam, you have no son.”

“Ronald—” his elder sister said warningly. He subsided, but the damage was done.

“What he says is quite true,” Lady Virginia said, leaning toward Will as though it would keep her words from her brother-in-law. “I have no son as yet. But soon I shall, very soon, and we will need protection, for the same hand that struck my husband down will seek to destroy my child.” She clutched Will’s arm, darting a venomous glance across the table. “He sits there as though he deserves to take my husband’s place, when the law must not permit it. He must fear my son, who will grow up and avenge his father against the mark of Cain!”

The Earl seemed to decide that things had gone beyond tolerable. “Virginia, that is quite enough. You must not allow your grief to lead you into foolish accusations.” To Ronald, he said, “Such harsh language to a woman in your sister’s condition is inexcusable. I demand you apologize.”

If he intended to do so, Lady Virginia gave him no chance. “What does he care of my condition? He would like to see me lose my child!”

“Virginia, your husband—
my son
—suffered an unfortunate accident. It is tragedy enough for us all, but it was an accident, and no more. Ronald was in London at the time.”

“So he says!” Lady Virginia put her cutlery down, bright spots of color appearing on her cheeks. “And do you believe him?”

“You are overwrought,” the Earl said.

“And you are a fool!” she retorted. “Look at that creature.
Look
at him! Smug! He has what he has always wanted, the jealous beast!”

He did indeed have it, if what he wanted was to make Lady Virginia appear to be hysterical and discredit her accusations. And from the bland satisfaction on Ronald’s face, he knew it, too.

“Come, sister.” Amelia was suddenly beside the furious, bereaved woman. “Let us go back to your room, where you can finish your meal in peace and safety.” Virginia was reluctant, but with Jane’s help Amelia managed to persuade her to leave the table.

An uneasy silence fell after they left, finally broken by their hostess. “The accident was a great shock to her,” Lady Anne said to Will. “I believe her reason is a little unsettled at the moment.”

What could one say to that? Agree or disagree, it would sound insulting either way. “I have seen sudden grief lead men to rash behavior,” he said carefully. “Such a terrible loss for her, at such a time…”

Lady Anne nodded approval of his tact, and let the subject lie. Conversation hung suspended until the two younger women returned, and after that Will found himself uttering inanities in response to Amelia’s commonplace revelations about the hyacinths she had begun forcing in the conservatory. He was so grateful to her for taking up the burden of conversation that he found himself agreeing that he had always found blue hyacinths to possess a stronger scent than pink or white—something to which he had never paid the slightest attention. He wondered if that were true, and wondered whether he was absolutely certain of the difference between a hyacinth and a narcissus, another flower she indicated an interest in cultivating. He also found himself wishing that war would break out so he would have good reason to flee the premises.

At last the ladies departed, the port was passed among the gentlemen, and after one drink for courtesy’s sake the Earl excused himself to deal with some pressing matter or other. Ronald simply got up and left, without the bother of saying anything to his brother or their guest.

Davy swirled the sweet wine around the bottom of his glass. “It’s just as well I am not much of a drinking man,” he said thoughtfully. “I’m sorry, Will. Shall we join the ladies?”

“I suppose we must,” Will said.

But the ladies were equally distressed over the widow’s outburst, and Lady Eugenie appeared to be experiencing a return of the sore throat she’d been suffering a few days earlier. Will thought the girl must really be feeling unwell, since she made no objection when Lady Anne chivvied her off to bed.

After a little while, Amelia and Jane also excused themselves and went to their rooms. The gentlemen rose as they exited, and Davy turned to Will. “Would you enjoy a game of chess or some cards?”