“But what shall I tell Nicholas?”
“Tell him to continue his speech practice and walks with Captain Thorne. I will always treasure your son’s friendship and will miss his company greatly.”
“What, what about me?”
“Lady Blandford, as long as I’m in England, all you have to do is send for me and I will come to your aid, no matter where you may be.” With that final farewell, he turned and left through the side door after moving the heavy chest back to where he’d found it.
Before he left,Richard had one final detail to see to and left a message with the front desk manager for the Duke of Sidmouth.
Later that morning, when the duke read the message delivered to his room, he gave his head a shake of frustration and sat down to write out a detailed document. He folded and sealed the parchment with his ducal seal and the wax pot provided by the hotel. He walked out into the hallway and chose his most trusted guard to follow him back into the suite. He explained exactly what he wanted done and sent the man with a pouch of coins to the Falmouth packet office.
Harriet rode backto Bocollyn Lodge in the ducal carriage with Nicholas and Captain Thorne, and Nana. For once, Her Grace was sound asleep, snoring lightly. Rain pelted the coach all the way home along the twisting coastal path. She felt as though even the weather was judging her for what she’d just done to one of the finest men she’d ever known. But she also knew she was right. There was no other way.
Nicholas’s smile was the only ray of light in the dreary carriage. Which was why she hated what she had to say next. “Lieutenant Bourne has been called back early to his ship.”
“No. He was supposed to stay with Captain Thorne for another two weeks. Isn’t that right, Captain?”
The captain patted the boy’s knee. “I’m sorry, Nicholas, but Lieutenant Bourne serves at the pleasure of the King’s Navy. There are times when a sailor, or a soldier, has to do things he doesn’t want to do when duty calls.”
Nicholas did not argue further, but jerked back against the squabs in Sidmouth’s carriage. Even though he remained uncharacteristically quiet, he kept slanting his mother resentful looks. He knew. Children somehow always knew. It was her fault that Richard had left early, but what choice did she have? She closed her eyes but they flew open again. All she could see with her eyes closed were Richard’s lips, darkened and puffy from all the kisses she’d rained on him the night before. Their last night.
The minute the carriage pulled into the lodge’s circular drive, both mastiffs thundered out from under the front portico with Footman Thomas in pursuit. Nicholas jumped out as soon as Sidmouth’s driver opened the door and pulled down the steps.
The dogs greeted him as if he’d been carried off by pirates for a year. Slobber flew everywhere, including onto Harriet’s new bright blue woolen carriage dress. She barely noticed and urged both child and dogs back into the dry lodge. Captain Thorne nodded to her and moved to divert the boy with a bit of speech practice.
She made arrangements with Carrick to have someone carry the sleeping Nana into the house, only to see her bowl out of the carriage and run toward the house. Harriet rushed toward her grandmother. “Nana, stop. Let someone help you.” The older woman sped on past her and headed into the house, shouting, “Where have they taken my marine? Where is he?”
Harriet sighed and headed to the kitchen to prepare Nana’s laudanum-laced tea. Once she’d settled her grandmother into a warmed bed, she returned to her room and had her lady’s maid help her into a cozy gown and slippers. She had correspondence to catch up on, specifically a letter to Viscount Grantham to arrange a meeting to discuss their marriage arrangements.
18
Richard sat at Captain Bellingham’s table aboard theBlack Condorwhere the stub of a candle burned low. One wine bottle stood empty while another was two-thirds empty. Arnaud and his own Marine Captain George Neville had berated him mercilessly the entire evening.
After a long day of drilling new recruits above the harbor on Falmouth’s bowling green, Captain Neville had shoved him across the deck into the ship’s captain’s cabin.
“This swab is worthless to me the way he is now.” Neville had kicked the cabin’s door shut behind him after returning the salute from the marine guarding the entry outside. “I don’t know whether to take the lash to him or make him ruck for five miles.” A “ruck” was an enforced march for a marine with a rucksack full of forty or so pounds of gear. New recruits who balked at orders or showed too much insolence were usually the victims of such punishment.
And those were the nicest things his two friends had said to him over the last several hours.
“Why exactly have you returned to the ship two weeks shy of your well earned leave, lieutenant?” Bellingham gave Neville a slow wink over the top of Richard’s head as if he were a simpleton.
“I told you, I’d become a hazard to Lady Blandford’s reputation. And not only that, but have either of you ever had a duke the size of a bear plant a facer on you?”
“Bourne, you’ve become a legend it seems. The Duke of Sidmouth could have easily had us throw you in the brig for behavior unbecoming an officer. If he decided to take a crack at that thick head of yours on his own, you must have really done something to provoke his rage.” Bellingham could barely keep a wide grin from splitting his face.
Neville got very quiet, which was never a good sign. “Do you love her?”
“With all I am, with all I have.” The absence of noise in the cabin after his pronouncement was ominous.
Arnaud spoke first. “Then you cannot walk away.”
“But she’s going to marry an old viscount whose estate borders Sidmouth’s. She needs respectability and safety for raising her son. He’s a marquess with all this responsibility, and he’s only a poor lad of eight. According to Harriet, er, Lady Blandford, his father’s brother has been behind two attempts to hurt the boy and take over the title.”
“You need to head back to that woman and beg her to marry you, not some old aristocrat who’ll make her life miserable.” Neville thumped the table and helped himself to more of the wine.
“He’s right.” Bellingham poured the last of the bottle into his glass and took a long swig. “You were all there when I spent weeks of hell watching Sophie dancing in the arms of other men while I sat on the sidelines making sure her bastard uncle didn’t harm her.”
After another sip, he continued. “I denied what I was feeling all that time, but when I thought I’d lost her, I realized what that would really mean. She’s part of me now. I could no more sail away without making her my wife than cut off one of my arms.” He stretched his arm toward Richard and slapped a hand over his vein.
