Wicked Captain, Wayward Wife Page 6

  ‘Nick?’

  As he came towards the bed she noted that he was dressed for riding, already booted and spurred.

  ‘I did not want to wake you. You looked so peaceful.’

  ‘You are going out? Will you not wait for me and I will go with you—’

  ‘That is not possible,’ he murmured, sitting on the edge of the bed and taking her hand. ‘I have to go away for a few days. The messenger came this very morning from Hastings. Business, I am afraid, my love, that requires my urgent attention.’

  Eve sat up. ‘Hastings! What business can be so important it takes you away so soon after the wedding?’ she demanded.

  ‘That I cannot tell you.’

  ‘Oh, but—’ He put a finger on her lips and shook his head at her.

  ‘Hush, my dear. You must trust me on this.’

  He was still smiling at her, but there was some thing in his blue eyes that gave her pause, made her bite back the host of questions she wanted to ask him. He leaned forwards and kissed her, very gently. ‘Only the most urgent business could tear me away from you at this time,’ he said. ‘Can you believe that?’

  She nodded, suddenly feeling sick with misery. This was nothing unusual, she told herself. Gentlemen did not discuss business affairs with their wives. She shivered, suddenly aware of her nakedness. Nick walked across the room to fetch her wrap of apricot silk. She slipped out of bed and scram bled into it, giving her attention to fastening the ties so that she did not have to look up. He reached out for her.

  ‘I am sorry, sweet heart.’

  As he hugged her to him, Eve leaned her head against his chest, willing herself not to cry.

  ‘How soon will you be back?’

  His arms tightened around her. ‘I do not know. A week, if all goes well. Longer, if not.’

  ‘And—you cannot tell me what is this business that takes you away from me?’ Eve knew he would not tell her, even as she asked the question. He put his fingers under her chin and tilted her head up. She looked up into his eyes, blinking to clear her own of the tears that threatened to spill over.

  ‘I must ask you to trust me, my love.’

  ‘I do,’ she said passionately.

  He kissed her. ‘Then stay here, keep yourself safe for when I return.’

  She shuddered suddenly and had a vague premonition of danger. ‘Promise me you will return!’

  He laughed down at her, the light glinting in his blue eyes. ‘You adorable little goose, of course I shall return!’ He kissed her soundly and she leaned into him, re turning his kisses and hoping he would sweep her up and carry her back to the bed for one final act of love making before he left. Her disappointment as he gently put her aside was so strong it almost made her weep. ‘I must get on, my sweet.’

  ‘Can you not give me ten minutes to dress? I would like to come down stairs and take my leave of you.’ She noted his hesitation and added quietly, ‘Please, Nick.’

  He relented. ‘Very well. Ten minutes.’

  Nick watched her walk out of the room, her head held high. A wave of tenderness welled up in him. She did not under stand why he must go yet there were no tears, no tantrums. He had asked her to trust him and she did. He put out his hand, opened his mouth to call out to her, but some thing held him back. The moment was lost; the door had closed behind her.

  ‘Just as well,’ he told himself. ‘The less she knows of this affair, the better.’

  A little over ten minutes later, Eve accompanied Nick out of the house, trying not to cling too tightly to his arm.

  ‘Will you be able to write to me, sir?’ She tried to keep her voice light.

  ‘I shall try, but it may not be possible if I am very busy.’ He lifted her hand to his lips. ‘Be strong for me, my love, until I return.’

  Looking up into his laughing face, she remembered her first impression of him; an adventurer, a man who courted danger. Her fingers suddenly clenched on his hand. ‘You will be careful?’

  He gave a merry laugh. ‘Sweetheart I am always careful!’ With a squeeze of her fingers he turned away and mounted nimbly upon his black horse.

  ‘Granby will be following me with the carriage in an hour or so.’ He grinned down at her, his eyes glinting. ‘I do not want to hear that you have gone into a decline, madam.’

  She dragged up a smile. ‘I am not such a poor creature, sir. I shall keep myself busy until your return.’ His warm look turned her heart over.

  ‘Good girl. Come up, Admiral!’ He raised his whip in a salute as he turned and galloped away down the drive.

  Eve watched from the little bridge until Nick was out of sight, then with a sigh she went back into the house. There was an aching void in her chest and she had a des per ate desire to burst into tears. She glanced at the clock in the great hall; it was still very early. She had been married for less than twenty-four hours and already her husband had given her both more pleasure, and more pain, than she had ever known before.

  When Eve joined Sir Benjamin in the morning room some time later, he held out his hand to her. ‘Rooney told me Nick has been called away, my love. That is a great pity. But it means I have you to myself again.’

  She smiled as she grasped his out stretched fingers. ‘Indeed you do, Grandpapa.’

  ‘And are you happy with the husband I have found for you, my love?’

  She smiled down at him. ‘Can you doubt it, sir?’

  ‘No, love. You have been glowing with hap pi ness these past few weeks.’ Sir Benjamin sighed. ‘But we shall miss him. He is a very lively fellow, Nick Wylder—Wyldfire, they called him, when he was at sea.’ He chuckled. ‘He certainly sets the house alight with his energy! And he has entertained us royally, has he not, my dear?’

  ‘Yes, sir, and while he is gone we must entertain each other,’ said Eve bracingly. ‘It is a beautiful day, Grandpapa, will you not take a stroll with me through the garden? I should like you to see the flowerbeds; the roses are particularly fragrant just now. Rooney will give you his arm…’

  ‘I think not, my love. My legs do not feel so very strong today.’

  ‘Then let me bring the backgammon board into the morning room. I know Nick’s skill is superior to mine, but I can acquit myself creditably, I think.’

  Sir Benjamin patted her hand. ‘Not just now, Evelina. I am very tired. I think I should like to rest here quietly in the sunshine for a little while.’

  ‘Of course, Grandpapa.’ She bent to kiss his cheek. ‘There is plenty for me to do. I fear I have neglected my house hold duties recently.’

  Poor Grandpapa, she thought as she went out. He will miss Nick almost as much as I do.

  Evelina kept herself busy. She threw herself back into the life of Makerham, for she was still its mistress, and would remain so until Nick came back and carried her away to run his own houses in the north. During the long, lonely nights in the big tester bed she stifled her longings with thoughts of her new life so far from the only home she had ever known. She would be sad to leave Grandpapa, of course, but the thought of moving away did not frighten her: with Nick at her side she knew she need not fear anything.

  A week had gone by and there was no letter from Nick, only a hastily scribbled note, telling her that if she had need of him she could leave word at the Ship in Hastings. Eve was philosophical about this; her grand father had been a very poor correspondent when she had been at school, some times a month would pass without a letter and then when it came it would be little more than a few lines dashed off in haste. She folded Nick’s note and placed it under her pillow; she would not worry. Besides, she had a much more pressing concern. Sir Benjamin’s health was failing rapidly. She sent for the doctor, and came hurrying down stairs to meet him as soon as he arrived.

  ‘Thank you for coming so promptly, Dr Scott.’

  ‘It is no trouble at all, Miss Eve—I mean, Mrs Wylder,’ responded the doctor, a twinkle in his kind eyes. ‘Now tell me, what is the matter with my patient? Is it his legs again?’

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p; Eve nodded. ‘He is complaining of pains in his chest, too. Since the wedding he has not been out of the house,’ she said as she escorted him up to her grandfather’s room. ‘I thought at first he was a little tired from all the celebrations, but this past week he has kept to his bed. And he is eating so little.’

  ‘Well, take me to him, Mrs Wylder, and I’ll see what I can do.’

  Eve was busy arranging a bowl of roses in the great hall when the doctor came in search of her.

  ‘I thought I would take these up to Grandpapa,’ she said, as he descended the stairs. ‘He is so fond of flowers and the perfume from these is delightful.’ Her smile faltered as she looked at him. ‘It is not good news, I fear, Dr Scott.’

  ‘You must remember he is an old man,’ said the doctor gently. ‘And a very sick one.’

  ‘I do,’ she murmured. ‘I am very grateful that he has been with me for so long…’

  ‘I have often thought that he was determined to keep going for your sake. Now that you are married—’

  ‘Oh, pray do not say that!’ cried Eve, distressed.

  ‘No, well, perhaps not.’ Dr Scott patted her shoulder. ‘Go to him, my dear. Take him your flowers. I will call again tomorrow.’

  ‘Grandpapa, I have brought you some roses. Since you cannot go to the garden, the garden must come to you. I shall put them here, near the window where you can see them. There, are they not beautiful?’

  Sir Benjamin smiled a little. He was propped up on a bank of plump pillows, but his eyes were shut. He looked gaunt and grey and very frail in his nightcap and gown.

  Eve went over to the bed and took his hand. ‘Will you not look at the roses, Grandfather?’

  His eyes opened a fraction. ‘Very pretty,’ he murmured. ‘You must excuse me, my love. I cannot seem to get my breath.’

  ‘Then do not waste it on words,’ she whispered. ‘I shall sit here beside you: we need not talk.’

  By the time Dr Scott returned the next morning it was all over. Evelina met him with a black shawl wrapped around her shoulders. Her eyes, she knew, were red and swollen from crying, but she made no excuses.

  ‘Oh, my dear.’ He took her hands.

  Evelina lifted her head a little higher. ‘It was very peaceful,’ she said. ‘Rooney and I were with him.’

  ‘I’m glad, the two people who loved him most in the world. He would like that. But what will you do now? You should not be here alone.’

  ‘Why not? I am accustomed to that.’

  ‘But not in these cir cum stances. There are arrangements to be made,’ said Dr Scott. ‘The funeral, for instance…’

  ‘I shall instruct Grandpapa’s lawyers today; they will know what is to be done. And I shall write to my husband.’ A new burst of sadness clogged her throat making it difficult to speak. She missed Nick so badly. ‘He is away for the moment.’

  ‘Then I wish him God speed to return to you, Mrs Wylder.’

  Evelina wished it, too, but she could not allow Nick’s continued absence to fill her thoughts, there was too much to do. Letters had to be written, lawyers consulted and funeral arrangements to be put in place. Evelina left the running of Makerham to Mrs Harding while she busied herself with the rituals of bereavement. She sent off her note express to Hastings and wondered how soon she could expect a reply.

  Two days later she was in one of the attic rooms, searching through trunks of her mother’s clothes for anything that might be altered and used as a mourning gown when from the open window she heard the sounds of a carriage on the drive. Her heart began to thud painfully at the thought that Nick had returned. She hurtled down the stairs, arriving in the great hall just as the door opened.

  ‘Oh I knew you would come! I—’

  She broke off, fighting back a wave of anger and disappointment when she saw Bernard Shawcross stepping through the doorway.

  ‘I am de lighted to think I have not disappointed you, Cousin,’ he said smoothly. As he straightened from his bow he put his hand to his neck. ‘You see, I have adopted a black cravat. Thought it fitting.’

  ‘Y-yes, thank you,’ she stammered. ‘You received my letter.’

  He inclined his head. ‘I came immediately. I thought you would need me. This is a very distressing time for you. You have my deepest sympathy, dear Cousin. Such a shock for you.’

  ‘Shock? No…no. Grandpapa’s health has been of concern for some time. That is why we did not remove to my husband’s home in the north country. But you must think me very rag-mannered. Pray sit down, Bernard; you must be wondering why Captain Wylder is not here to greet you. He is away, you see. On business.’

  ‘Ah.’ His close-set eyes under their heavy brows were fixed upon her. ‘So you have not heard from him?’

  ‘N-no, not yet. It is my hope that he is even now on his way to Makerham.’

  Bernard’s mouth stretched into a smile. ‘Let us hope so, indeed. But in the meantime I am here to support you. If you would ask Mrs Harding to prepare a room for me…’ He waved one hand. ‘I know, by rights it should be the master’s room, but perhaps it is a little soon.’

  She knew a little spurt of anger at his presumption. ‘Far too soon,’ she retorted. ‘Grandfather’s bed chamber is still as he left it—’ She broke off, gathered herself and said more calmly, ‘One of the guest rooms shall be prepared for you.’

  Eve was glad of the excuse to leave her cousin and she hurried away to consult the house keeper. Mrs Harding’s reaction to his arrival was typically forth right.

  ‘So he’s turned up, has he? Like a bad penny, that one.’

  ‘He is the master here now, Mrs Harding,’ Eve reminded her gently. She ignored the housekeeper’s scornful look. ‘I must clear Grandpapa’s room for him, but not yet.’

  ‘No of course not yet, Miss Eve! Why, the master ain’t even in his grave. We’ll strip the room out completely after the funeral, miss, and we’ll do it together. It’s not a job for a young lady to take on alone.’

  ‘And…’ Eve bit her lip ‘…and will you join us for dinner, Mrs Harding?’ She could not explain her un easiness, but the older woman nodded immediately.

  ‘Of course, miss, and I’ll be in the drawing room of an evening, too. You shouldn’t be left alone with that man.’

  ‘Oh, I am sure there is nothing…’

  ‘You cannot be sure of anything with that one,’ retorted Mrs Harding grimly. ‘He’s trouble, you mark my words. I just wish the captain was here, he would know how to look after you.’

  Eve forced a smile. How easily the staff had taken to Nick.

  ‘Perhaps we shall have news of him tomorrow.’

  Chapter Six

  It was not until the day of Sir Benjamin’s funeral that they received word of Nick and when it came, the news was shattering. Evelina was in the morning room with her cousin, waiting for the carriage to take them to Makerham church when Green announced that Captain Wylder’s valet had arrived and wished to speak to her.

  ‘At last!’ She gave a brief look of apology to her cousin as she hurried away to the great hall where Richard Granby was waiting for her.

  ‘Well,’ she greeted him, ‘what news have you from your master?’ She heard foot steps on the stairs behind her and knew a moment’s irritation that her cousin should follow her, but it was for got ten as she observed the grave look upon Granby’s face. ‘What is it?’ she said sharply. ‘Tell me.’

  ‘There has been an…accident, ma’am.’

  Evelina stared at him. Bernard put his arm about her and guided her to a chair.

  ‘You had best sit down, Cousin,’ he murmured.

  She kept her eyes fixed upon the valet. ‘An accident? Is he badly hurt?’

  Granby shifted un com fort ably and Eve put her hands to her cheeks as a shocking idea forced its way into her head.

  ‘Not—?’

  Bernard’s hand clenched on her shoulder. ‘Is he dead?’ he said harshly. ‘Out with it, man.’

  ‘Yes, sir.’

  E
ve could only stare at him. The world was shifting, unbalanced. She was having difficulty thinking. She heard Bernard asking what had happened and tried to concentrate upon Granby’s answer.

  ‘Drowned. Fell over board from the yacht. On Saturday last.’

  ‘Perhaps he survived,’ suggested Bernard. ‘Might there not be some hope?’

  Granby shook his head. ‘No sir. They were some where beyond the Rocks of Nore, too far out for an injured man to swim. But we did check the beaches…’

  ‘Yacht?’ Eve frowned. ‘But he went to Hastings on business. What was he doing on a yacht?’

  Granby looked even more un com fort able.

  Bernard patted Eve’s shoulder. ‘There will be time for such questions later, my dear. For now I think you should lie down.’ His calm assumption of authority put new spirit into Eve.

  Impatiently she shook off his hand. ‘I have no intention of lying down. I am not ill, Cousin, and I shall not fall into hysterics because my husband is—’ She could not bring herself to say the word. She knew her compo sure could shatter at any moment and she would not let that happen. She must stay strong. Eve took a deep, steadying breath. ‘You must have ridden half the night to reach here so early, Mr Granby. Thank you for that. I suggest you rest now.’

  ‘Yes, ma’am. I am very sorry, Mrs Wylder.’

  ‘Mrs Wylder,’ she murmured. ‘No one calls me that here.’ She looked up. ‘One more thing, Mr Granby. My husband’s body…?’

  The valet hesitated. He avoided her eyes as he murmured, ‘Lost, ma’am.’

  ‘It might still be recovered,’ put in Bernard.

  ‘The news was spread along the coast.’ Granby nodded. ‘They have promised to send word if he is…found.’

  ‘They?’ said Bernard. ‘Who would that be?’

  ‘The master’s business acquaintances.’

  In spite of the numbness that had settled over her, Eve almost smiled. The valet’s haughty tone and the look that accompanied his words said very clearly that Nick Wylder’s business was his own affair, certainly not to be shared with Bernard Shawcross. She rose.