Mrs. McVinnie's London Season (41 page)

He paused in the
doorway, an arrested expression in his eyes as he measured his
niece. She glared back at him and raised her chin higher.

Summers smiled
unexpectedly and then touched her under the chin. “Larinda, it
could be that you are much too good for the fops on the marriage
mart this Season. Very well, if you must. After all,” he concluded
with a rare flash of humor, “someone has to give Jeannie McVinnie
some countenance.”

Jeannie stuck her
tongue out at him and hurried from the room. She calmly gathered
her comb, brush, toothbrush, and toothpowder into her reticule,
pulled on her pelisse again, and swirled her cloak around her.

Larinda already waited
in the hall, her face pale but composed. A smile lit her eyes for a
moment. “For someone intent upon cutting a dash in London, I have
certainly come down in the world, Jeannie,” she confessed, and then
the little smile was gone. “But we must find Edward before he goes
for a soldier. And perhaps, perhaps he’ll let me be a better
sister.” She looked shyly at Jeannie. “I can learn, surely.”

Jeannie took her hand.
“I am sure of that. You’ve already suffered through a hard lesson,
my dear. Let us go downstairs.”

Downstairs was no
better. Sir Reginald Dewhurst had quitted his high-perch phaeton
and was demanding to see Larinda or Jeannie McVinnie. Wapping, his
eyebrows raised to the point of caricature, was barring the way
most effectively while Mary tried to soothe Clare, who wailed in
the sitting room and would not be comforted.

Sir Reginald’s rather
spotty complexion was growing more colorful by the minute when he
espied Larinda. He could not turn his head because his shirt points
threatened his circulation, so he swiveled his whole body to watch
her descent of the stairs.

“
Ah,
you are here! Come, my dear, and you, Mrs. McVinnie. I do not want
to miss a minute more of the Hyde Park stroll.” He giggled.
“Without my gossip, I am thoroughly unmanned.” Larinda, her mouth
pulled down primly in an expression that Jeannie was already
regarding as dangerous, held out her hand to him. “I am afraid you
are doomed to disappointment, Sir Reginald,” she said. “A family
emergency calls, and I am off to Portsmouth with Mrs.
McVinnie.”

“
Portsmouth?” he gasped as if she had named some rare disease.
He snatched his hand away, fearful of contamination. “My dear, no
one goes there but soldiers and diseased tars.”

“
I beg
your pardon?”

Captain Summers, taller
by many inches now with his hat on his head, descended the stairs,
followed by Pringle with one sea bag. “I’d call you out for that
remark, Sir Reginald,” he growled, “but I haven’t time right now.”
He smiled his gallows smile, which caused even the veteran Pringle
to swallow and look away. “Do make yourself available for when I
next come off the blockade, sir.”

“
Yes,
sir, I mean, no, sir,” stammered Sir Reginald as he retreated in
complete confusion.

“
Larinda, what a silly fop,” Summers said.

“
Yes,
isn’t he?” Larinda agreed as she pulled on her gloves calmly. “Your
sister tells me he is worth more than Golden Ball. But I think he
and I would not suit.”

“
I
suppose you prefer a penniless Scotsman with nothing to recommend
him but his bare knees.”

“
It
could be that I do.”

“
I can
send Bartley MacGregor to the rightabout in a gypsy’s jump,
Larinda,” he continued. He pulled on his own gloves and settled his
hat more securely.

“
You
can try, Uncle Summers,” she said, “you can try.”

He smiled, winked at
Jeannie, and then looked toward the sitting room. “And what
nonsense is going on in there, or dare I ask?” he asked.

He gave the matter a
moment’s careful thought, then shrugged his shoulders and went into
the room, where Clare sobbed on Mary’s lap. When he knelt beside
her in front of the sofa, she buried her face in Mary’s bosom and
cried harder.

“
Mary,
come now, and tell me, what is the difficulty here? As if we
haven’t enough to worry about at the moment.”

Mary went pale at the
tone of his voice, but she merely stroked Clare’s ringlets. “I am
sure that she is afraid you have come to take her back to Portugal,
sir.”

Captain Summers’
expression grew more thoughtful. He turned to Jeannie, who stood by
his shoulder. “I would have, only a week ago, Jeannie,” he
whispered as she rested her hand on his shoulder. “In fact, I was
planning on it, before you came. It seemed like the only thing to
do.” He was talking more to himself than to Jeannie, and she was
wise enough to remain silent. “But now? What should I do,
Jeannie?”

“
It is
your decision, Will,” she replied, hoping for the best. “You have
said she is not your daughter, and she has no ties in this
household. I do not believe Lady Smeath has any interest in her
welfare. She never speaks to her, and as a consequence, Clare is
silent.”

He touched Clare’s
hair, and then his hand went to the towel doll. He straightened the
tartan that had twisted about on the little gold button. “Clare, I
will not take you to Portugal, but neither will I leave you here,”
he said, his voice final.

Clare stopped sobbing
and pulled herself upright in Mary’s lap, her eyes wide and her
mouth open.

“
When
Jeannie McVinnie returns here in a day or two, she will take you
and Mary home to Scotland with her.”

Mary gasped and clapped
her hands. Clare rubbed the tears from her eyes and leaned against
her again. Jeannie stared at the captain.

“
Jeannie, you’ll catch minnows,” the captain said. “Now close
your mouth and nod your head yes. You’re still my crew, at least
until I quit Wendover Square, and I expect obedience.” He sighed.
“God knows I don’t seem to merit it from anyone else in his plaguey
household.” He took her by the hand. “Do this for me, Jeannie,” he
pleaded, “and for Clare. And I think, for you.”

Jeannie returned the
pressure of his hand. “Yes, we’ll go back to Scotland,” she said
quietly, “although heaven knows what Galen McVinnie will say.” She
kissed Clare. “I had cleared out a space some time earlier in my
room, Clare. Mary, there’s a little alcove at the top of the stairs
for you. It isn’t much,” she said doubtfully.

“
You
know I don’t mind,” Mary assured her.

After another look at
Clare’s face, Jeannie allowed the captain to help her to her feet.
“We’ll manage just fine, Captain.”

He clapped his hands
together in triumph and then noticed Wapping hovering anxiously in
the doorway. “By the way, Wapping, when Lady Smeath comes around
again, tell her she is rid of me at last, and Clare and Jeannie,
too.” He thought a moment. “I couldn’t mention anything to her
about Captain MacGregor. We’ll let Larinda occupy herself for this
Season, which, by the way, you silly goose, has scarce begun,
trying to convince Auntie that a penniless Scot will be well-suited
for a husband.” He let out a crack of laughter. “By God, she’ll
find that amusing.”

He knelt again to kiss
Clare, who threw her arms around his neck and rested her cheek
against his. Jeannie watched and then looked away as tears sprang
into his eyes.

When she looked back,
the captain was in complete control again. He went to the door and
motioned to them. “Pringle has secured us a hackney. Excellent
fellow!” He indicated that they should follow him. “My fondest
regards to Agatha,” he called from the bottom of the stairs up to
Wapping. “I’ll miss her more than words can say.”

“
You
are severe upon your sister,” Larinda said to her uncle as the
hackney pulled away from the curb.

He took off his hat and
rubbed his hand through his thinning hair. “I must confess to you,
Larinda, that sisters are almost as fun to bait as butlers.” He
looked at Jeannie, a touch of embarrassment in his eyes. “I had no
idea I was such a bully.”

On a sudden whim,
Captain Summers ordered the jehu to take them to the Couched Lion.
A discussion with the landlord uncovered no information about a
small boy of fourteen years with light hair and gray eyes.

“
My
lord,” the landlord importuned, missing the mark wide, “Your
worship, sir, do you have any notion how many boys of that
description are hanging about London?”

The captain only nodded
and then favored the landlord with his gallows grin. “Only let them
come closer to the docks and I’ll lead the press gangs out for them
myself.”

A short drive through
London’s less-well-favored streets took them to the posting house
for the mail coach. By exerting his considerable personality, the
captain was able to keep the driver of the mail coach at bay long
enough for Jeannie to scurry about and find some rolls and hard
cheese. After a few choice words from the driver and a basilisk
stare from the captain, they joined Larinda inside the coach.

Larinda was holding a
spot for them and eyeing the other inmates of the damp and smelly
coach.

“
I
must admit, Uncle, this is a new experience,” she said as she
watched two merchants trade a bottle back and forth between them,
passing it across a clergyman stiff with disapproval.

Captain Summers cowered
the drinkers with a look that stopped the bottle in midpass and
then saw it whisked out of sight. Summers settled himself back,
pleased with himself.

“
You
are a wonder, Captain,” Jeannie said.

He did not look at her,
but tipped his hat forward. “At sea I am a wonder, my dear. On
land, fearsomely misfit. I growl and huff and puff, and you see
right through me.”

“
Thank
you for not abandoning Clare,” she whispered.

A flush rose on his
face. “I almost hate to admit this, but she is charming. I couldn’t
send her back.” He sighed. “And to think I came so close.”

Jeannie shivered.

“
Jeannie, are you cold?” he asked.

She was not, but she
made no objection when he pulled his cloak around her and held her
close against his side. Larinda looked at him expectantly, so he
pulled her close to him on the other side and made some remark
about being “the envy of nations, a sailor’s sailor,” and told them
both to go to sleep, as it would be a long night.

Larinda was soon
asleep, her head bobbing on the captain’s shoulder until he leaned
her against the carriage window. He was still then, and Jeannie
thought he slept, too. She sighed and squirmed about.

“
Mrs.
McVinnie, you must be the very devil to sleep with,” he said at
last when she poked him in the ribs.

“
That
is improper,” she said, her face red.

“
It is
merely an observation. Do cease wiggling about like a worm on a
line. Here now, cast refinement to the wind and rest your head on
my lap.”

“
I
won’t,” she replied, and then pillowed her cloak on his lap and
rested her head upon his thigh. “Perhaps I will, considering that
if I do not, you will get all thin about the mouth and remind me
that I am crew,” she grumbled.

He chuckled, but said
nothing. She was almost asleep when he spoke.

“
Jeannie, if he is not at Portsmouth, I do not know what to do.
I must take the next blockade ship to the Channel Fleet and regain
the
Venture
. It will fall to you to scout him out. I can
make some suggestions and leave you with a note to Lord Wilkins,
who has some charge over the army.”

“
I
will manage.”

He rested his hand
against her cheek. “Of that I have no doubt. I’ll leave you with a
note to draw upon my account at Pelmsley’s in London for any
amount.”

He leaned back and his
hand strayed to her shoulder. “And here I am, going back to sea. I
wonder why I do not feel so happy about it this time?”

I could tell you, she
thought, but I am too tired. Surely there will be a moment
tomorrow, when there isn’t a clergyman sitting across the aisle,
all ears and bad breath. I’ll say yes to your proposal. She sighed.
If you even remember having made it ….

T
he feeling that morning had come dragged Jeannie out
of troubling dreams and laid the foggy harbor of Portsmouth before
her eyes. She bit her lips at the pain in her back and looked out
the window, breathing in the fog and smelling the tar that
permeated the atmosphere.

The captain’s eyes were
closed, but he did not appear to be sleeping. As she looked at him,
he opened his eyes.

“
I
have spent better nights in prison, or under fire,” he said,
keeping his voice low so as not to waken Larinda, or the merchants
or clergyman across from them, who slept jumbled together like
puppies.

Jeannie flexed her back
and winced. “You could have made me sit up,” she said.

He shook his head. “You
were not the source of my discomfort. Far from it.” He smiled
briefly, an intimate smile meant for no one else, one that put a
little heart back in her. “Do you know that you snore?”

“
Yes!
I have been reminded ever so many times. And I also talk in my
sleep,” she said, laughter in her voice. “I am a nag and a scold
and the veriest harpy when it comes to church
attendance.”

He laughed then, but
sobered immediately, choosing his next words with great
deliberation. “And, my dear, did Tom have any bad habits?”

Jeannie was silent
then, remembering all of Tom’s idiosyncrasies and wondering which
one to start with. As she considered the question and how best to
answer it, she saw the little light go out of Will Summers’ eyes as
he retreated inside himself again. She understood then all that his
questions had implied, and she was too late with an answer.