Courted By The Captain

Chapter Two

‘Have you noticed that when Lady Luck decides to desert one she does so with a vengeance?’ Adam asked and twirled his wine glass so that the rich ruby liquid swirled enticingly in the delicate bowl. ‘That damned horse might have won for me. Had it done so I should have been beforehand with the world for a month. As it is I must go into the country.’

‘My own pockets are sadly to let or I should offer to frank you.’ Captain John Marshall joined him in the sad perusal of their joint fate, having both put down too much of their blunt on a sure thing. ‘No, no, don’t poker up, Adam. Only meant pay our shot at the inn. You’d do the same for me.’

‘I can manage that,’ Adam replied ruefully. ‘Kept enough back for it, but I’d thought to return to London for a few weeks. However, my allowance for the month is shot and I refuse to borrow—so the country it must be.’

‘I shall avail myself of my uncle’s hospitality,’ John said. ‘He has been asking me to stay this age. Bores one to death with his stories, but he’s got a good heart. He’ll leave me a fortune one day, I dare say.’

‘Had I such a relative I should be delighted to stay with him.’ Adam laughed. ‘The cure for my dilemma is in my own hands, but I can’t seem to make up my mind to it.’

‘Know where you’re coming from.’ His friend tapped the side of his nose. ‘Heiresses are the very devil. If they’re ugly, it makes one want to run a mile—and if they’re beautiful, they look through one as if there was a bad smell under their pretty noses.’

Adam was forced into laughter. He sipped his wine, feeling the cloud of gloom lift slightly. The future looked exceedingly dark, but at the moment he was still free to enjoy his life as he would.

‘I’ve been invited to Mark Ravenscar’s wedding. I think I shall go down and stay. I’ve decided I shall give him one of my breeding mares as a gift. He has been after buying her for an age and I could hardly think of anything better—though I must give Lucy something for herself. A piece of my late mother’s jewellery, perhaps.’

‘Ladies can never have too many trinkets.’ John nodded wisely. ‘I plan to send them a silver tea-and-coffee service myself—we have about twenty of them at home.’

‘It’s what all the uncles and aunts give,’ Adam smiled in amusement. ‘Which is why I settled on the mare.’ He finished his wine and stood up. ‘Think I’ll go up. If I don’t see you in the morning, you’ll be at Mark’s wedding?’

‘Wouldn’t miss it for the world. There wasn’t one of us in the regiment that didn’t envy him Lucy Dawlish—a regular golden goddess fit for one beloved of the gods.’

‘Yes, Mark always has been a lucky devil,’ Adam replied with an odd smile. ‘Good night, old fellow.’

Leaving his friend to finish the bottle, Adam exited the private parlour and walked upstairs to his room. He lay down on the bed and closed his eyes, still fully clothed. Dashed tired and dispirited, but he’d enjoyed meeting an old comrade. Now that his wounds had healed, Adam was considering whether he might do better to return to an army life. He would be an officer on half-pay during peace time, however, which meant he would find it difficult to manage. Perhaps it would be better to try to set his own small estate in order. He was unlikely to inherit anything but an ancient pile of stones and huge debts from his grandfather—debts that he could never pay unless he married a considerable heiress.

Back to the same old problem, he closed his eyes and was soon snoring gently as his mind drifted away and in his dreams he saw a woman’s look of disdain.

* * *

‘Well, Jenny, I’m sure I do not know why you wish to leave us,’ Mrs Hastings said as her niece came down dressed in a smart but plain green travelling gown. She sniffed her disapproval. ‘I think we’ve done our best to make you comfortable.’

‘Yes, Aunt Martha. You’ve both been kind—but I wished for a change. I am not certain what I would like to do with my life, but I intend to make up my own mind.’

‘I still cannot see why you dislike the marquis so much. You would have a prestigious title and he would settle money on you...’

‘I think I can manage for myself on what I have, Aunt. Papa may have lost some money, but I am not a pauper. I am not reduced to earning my living as a governess.’

‘No one would employ a girl as pretty as you for their governess.’ Mrs Hastings sniffed again. ‘Your uncle was only trying to protect you from the wrong kind of suitor.’

Jenny smiled and shook her head. ‘I must not keep the coachman waiting,’ she said. Although it would have been perfectly possible for her to travel by post-chaise, she had been unable to get out of using her uncle’s antiquated carriage. He was annoyed with her for visiting the lawyer without reference to him and Jenny had had to endure a homily from him on the ingratitude of younger folk today.

‘I did what I thought right in the circumstances, Jenny. Your father left me the task of guarding you and your funds until you are either one and twenty—or married. You had no need of a larger allowance whilst you lived under our roof.’

‘You are one of the trustees,’ Jenny gently reminded him. ‘Mr Nodgrass is the other and he saw fit to give me the monthly sum I requested.’

‘Yes, well, since you are removing yourself from my house I suppose you will need more. But you should learn economy, Jenny. Even had you a huge fortune, which to my mind, you have not, you may easily run through it if you spend too freely.’

Jenny had not answered. From what Mr Nodgrass had told her she had funds enough for her needs and she saw no point in the stringent economy her uncle thought right. However, her aunt and uncle had been kind enough in their way and she had no wish to quarrel with them.

A sigh of relief left her lips as she climbed into the carriage and the groom put up the steps. Her maid Megan was already sitting quietly in one corner, waiting for her. She smiled at her, feeling as if a heavy weight had been lifted. Her uncle and aunt were good people in their way, but they had made her feel beholden to them for all these months and there was no need for it, no need at all. Jenny could have remained in her father’s house had her uncle not sold the property together with so many other things that Jenny would have preferred to keep. Thankfully, Mr Nodgrass had refused to give up her mother’s jewels, keeping them safe for her in his strongroom.

Jenny had decided to leave the more valuable diamonds and rubies with him, because in that much her aunt was right. Such ostentation would not become a girl of her age and should be kept for marriage or some years in the future. Papa had bought the finest he could for his beloved wife, but Jenny loved best the trinkets she’d chosen for her own use, which had also been her mother’s favourites and worn more often than either the diamonds or the rubies.

‘Are you looking forward to your visit, miss?’

Jenny glanced at her maid and a little gurgle of laughter broke from her. ‘So much! It should be the greatest good fun—lots of dances, dinners and picnics. We have the summer before us and with the wedding next month everything will be so exciting. You’ll enjoy yourself in the country, Meg. You can make friends and go out for walks when I don’t need you.’

‘I was a country girl until your papa employed me to look after you,’ Meg replied. ‘We make our own fun in the country. I always loved the haymaking as a girl—and gathering in the May blossom.’

‘Tell me about your childhood,’ Jenny said. ‘We’ve never talked like this before and I should so much like to know all about your family and what you did as a young girl...’

* * *

His thumping head had almost cleared now. The fresh air was doing him a power of good and he was glad he’d decided to drive himself down in his phaeton. Alas, his favourite high-perch phaeton with the bright yellow wheels and the matched blacks he’d prized so much had had to be sold to pay his immediate debts. He now had more than five hundred guineas in his account, which meant he could stop worrying—at least for the time being.

Adam’s goal of having one of the best breeding stables in the country might have suffered a little from the loss of his blacks, but he still had the greys and the chestnuts, both teams excellent horseflesh. He’d always been a good judge of horses and gentlemen wishing to improve their stables often sought his advice. Had he wished he could have begun to put his land in order by selling more of his stable, but then his dream would vanish into thin air. However, the perch phaeton was a luxury and the more mundane vehicle he was driving now served him just as well.

It would be good to see his cousins again. Since they were forever pressing him to stay he would not feel that he was in any way impinging on their hospitality. Mark had spoken of wishing to buy some good bloodstock in order to set up his stables and, with the addition of the mare Adam had decided to give him as a wedding gift, it could easily be done. They might ride out to a few sales in the neighbourhood and discover whether there was anything worth purchasing.

Seeing the carriage blocking the road ahead, Adam brought his horses to a gentle halt and threw the reins to his tiger as he got down to investigate. It was obvious that the coach was old and something had broken—the leading pole by the looks of things. It had lurched sideways, only prevented from overturning by some skilled handling of the horses by the coachman. As Adam went to investigate, he saw two young women sitting on a blanket at the side of the road. One was obviously a maid, the other was a young lady of gentle birth dressed plainly in an elegant, but serviceable rather than fashionable, gown.

‘I am sorry to find you in trouble, ladies,’ he said and swept off his hat. ‘Is there anything I may do to help you?’

‘My uncle’s groom has gone to fetch a blacksmith,’ the young lady in green said. ‘I think it will need several men to get this wretched coach off the road—and I am informed that the nearest inn is more than a mile away.’

‘Yes, I believe there is an inn of sorts—but not at all suitable for ladies.’ Adam hesitated, then, ‘Where are you headed?’

‘The Dawlish estate. I am going to stay with Lucy and her family.’

‘Yes, I know the Dawlish family,’ Adam said. ‘I am going down to stay with Lucy’s bridegroom’s family—my cousins. The estates are not far apart. I could take you both up in my phaeton. However, your coachman must make arrangements to send on your baggage for I cannot accommodate it.’

‘Most of my things were sent ahead by wagon,’ Jenny said. ‘Coachman shall do as you suggest—if I may bring my box with me?’

Adam saw the small trunk lying on the grass beside them and guessed it held her personal items and valuables.

‘Yes, of course. Your companion may hold it on her lap.’ He approached and offered his hand, ‘Allow me, Miss...’

‘Hastings—Jenny Hastings.’ Adam noticed the faint blush in her cheeks and the way her hand trembled in his, as he helped her to rise. It was only as he was handing her into his phaeton that he realised she was the lady he’d noticed at the last ball he’d attended in London. She’d looked at him with decided disapproval that night, though as far as he knew they’d never met before today. ‘I knew Lucy at school. My father is dead and they have kindly offered me a home.’

Her slight embarrassment and the plainness of her gown and pelisse made Adam think that she was reduced to accepting kindness from her friends. It would seem that her father’s demise had left her in difficult circumstances and she was to be some kind of a companion, though treated as a friend rather than a paid servant. It was a situation that many young ladies of good birth found themselves in when a death in the family left them with too little fortune to manage for themselves.

She was wearing a pretty silver-and-enamelled brooch pinned to her pelisse. Of little value, it was exactly the kind of ornament a girl in her position would prize. He wondered that she had told him so much of her situation for she need not, and yet perhaps she felt her come down keenly and did not wish him to think her a privileged guest. He smiled at her kindly, because now he understood the expression she’d worn that evening in London. She had not been disapproving of him in particular, but was at odds with the world itself for leaving her in her present circumstances.

Adam could sympathise, for his own circumstances were not too far different. Miss Hastings would not have the avenue of marriage to a rich heiress open to her. Being a man, and heir to a title, he had a distinct advantage, as his problems might have been solved had he a little less pride. For a young woman like this there were few options open to her other than to seek paid employment or live as a dependent in the home of a friend—unless she was fortunate enough to be asked for in marriage. If she were prepared to accept an older man or a widower with a family, she might be fortunate enough to find a comfortable match—although was there any comfort to be had in a loveless marriage?

Having settled Miss Hastings in the carriage, he helped the young maid to sit behind and took up the reins from his tiger. By driving with great care, he managed to pass the stricken coach and mount the grass verge, negotiating a tricky passage with ease.

‘You drive very well,’ Miss Hastings observed and Adam smiled. He was considered a notable whip, but had no intention of puffing off his consequence. ‘Papa was a whip—indeed, I shall never understand how he came to overset his chaise at such speed that he was thrown to the ground and killed.’

‘Accidents will happen even to the best of us,’ Adam said in a sympathetic tone. ‘I am sorry for your loss, Miss Hastings.’

‘It was almost a year ago now, which is why I’ve left off my blacks. My aunt was anxious for me to wear colours again—but I shall continue to wear grey and lilac for a little longer.’

‘Your gown today is a very pretty green, however.’

‘A present from my aunt. I felt obliged to wear it since she had gone to so much trouble to have it made up for me.’

‘Ah, I see...’ Adam concentrated on his driving. ‘It will be late afternoon by the time we arrive at Ravenscar. If we dine there, I can send word to Lady Dawlish. She may have you fetched—or I can drive you there after we’ve eaten. To arrive after dark without explanation might cause some adverse comment...’

‘You think Lady Dawlish might consider it improper in me to allow you to take us up?’

‘I would not wish to have anyone form the wrong conclusion.’

‘But surely...I have my maid...’

‘Yes, but I...well, I have been known to support a pretty...mistress in the past and I would not wish anyone to receive the wrong impression.’

‘Oh...’ A sideways glance told him that her cheeks flamed. ‘I had not thought...only how kind it was...’ She floundered and Adam took pity on her.

‘You are quite safe with me. I do not seduce innocent young ladies, even if I have the reputation of being a rake—which is not truly deserved, though I say it myself.’

‘You are very thoughtful for my sake.’

‘A young woman in your delicate position cannot be too careful.’

‘In my...’ She swallowed hard, a startled look in her eyes. She could not have realised how revealing her words had been and he was sorry to have embarrassed her. ‘Yes, I see. You fear that it might cause Lady Dawlish to rescind her kind offer?’

‘Great ladies can sometimes be a little severe in matters of propriety,’ Adam said. ‘Safer to reach my cousin’s house and then send word that we took you in when your coach met with an accident.’

‘Yes...thank you. You are very considerate.’ Adam risked another glance at her. Her cheeks were rather pink and she seemed in some sort of difficulty. He was not sure whether her foremost emotion was embarrassment or...was that a gasp of despair or could it possibly be laughter?

‘You may think me impertinent, perhaps? Yet I should not wish you to lose your home because of a misunderstanding.’

‘No, certainly not, that would be unfortunate.’ She had herself in hand now and smiled at him. ‘I assure you I do not find you in the least impertinent, sir. Indeed, I am grateful for your care of my reputation.’

Adam made no immediate reply. She was obviously much affected by her change in situation. He could only suppose that she had been brought up to expect the best from life and her new circumstances were distressing her.

‘I should never wish to be the cause of harm to a young lady, especially when you find yourself in difficulties,’ he assured her and heard a little gasp from the maidservant. ‘Now tell me, are you looking forward to Lucy’s wedding?’

‘Yes, very much indeed,’ the reply came easily now. ‘The summer holds many treats ahead, I think, for Lady Dawlish is a generous hostess and will not permit herself to show me any lessening of regard because of my reduced circumstances.’

She had brought herself to speak of it and Adam was respectfully silent. He knew how much it must have cost her to speak of such things and was determined to be as generous and kind as he could.

* * *

For the next half an hour he regaled her with stories of his and his cousins’ exploits on the field of battle, describing the fierce fighting and their feelings of despair when at first forced to retreat. Also, the true comradeship and care for one another their experiences had forged.

‘When Old Hookey gave the orders to advance I was never more delighted in my life. What might have been a rout ended in a brilliant victory—and it was due to his strategy and the bravery of men who would cheerfully have died for him.’

‘I fear too many died,’ Jenny said. ‘I recall my uncle speaking of it—but he did not say much for he knew any talk of such things would distress me.’

‘Yes, indeed, it is not the subject for a lady’s parlour,’ Adam admitted. ‘I believe Wellington is now in Vienna. I fear he will find making the peace more difficult than he found the campaign. It is always so, for politics is a dirty business and men who would not know how to command a fly have a deal too much to say about how things shall be settled.’

‘My uncle was of the opinion that Napoleon should be tried and executed, but I dare say that will not happen.’

‘I think too many voices would be raised against it. He must certainly be contained for we cannot allow him to wreak further havoc in Europe—but he is a fine general and an execution might be a hard way to end such a life.’

‘You sound as though you almost admire him?’