Allan and Pru perked up in that magical way of children revived by the smallest rest, and went to their next duty with no complaint.
What did Captain Beattiewant? She knew he had no time to be a father, but here he was. Hopefully, she could convince him to let them stay precisely where they were. It was just the two of them now, something rare, Anna realised. She waited for the Captain to speak.
‘I’ve found the perfect woman to care for my son.’
Anna had thought she was ready for such awful news, but she couldn’t help her sudden intake of breath. He had found someone.
What to do with more bad news?
‘How fortunate for you, sir,’ she said, not daring to look at him, because that would make her sob out loud.
‘I’m glad you feel that way. I’m relieved, there’s no denying it.’
It was too hard. She stood up, eager to leave, even though that was bad manners.
‘John Beattie, make sure she knows Allan likes to be read to at bedtime, and then sing a song, although he did recently hear a bawdy one by the wharf that made me wince. And…and he has a favourite spoon—don’t ask me why. Hopefully, the woman you have chosen knows more about children than I do.’
‘Miss Fontaine—’
She ignored him. This whole business, begun in such desperation a few months ago, had turned into something she was quite unprepared for, even though she’d known it was coming. How would Allan cope? More to the point, if she wanted to think of herself, how would she?
‘I think Grace would let him take the spoon. Allan and Pru are thick as thieves, so this woman had better be prepared to take her, too.’ She couldn’t help herself, even if it sounded like whining. ‘Drat you, Captain. We were rubbing along so well here.’
There weren’t too many steps to the door leading above-stairs. She knew better than to make a scene in the lobby, but maybe there was somewhere in Plymouth that didn’t remind her of the Royal Navy.Now, where would that be, you nincompoop?she asked herself. She crossed the room and put her hand on the doorknob, only to have the Captain put his hand against the door and keep it firmly shut.
‘I don’t work for you,’ she said, staring straight ahead at the door. ‘You can’t stop me.’
‘Look at me.’
Nowthatwas a tone of voice she had never heard before from him. There was nothing of command, or frustration, or worry. If she hadn’t known better, he sounded like a hopeful lover in one of those silly romances that she and Grace giggled over late at night when the lobby was empty.
To make certain, she looked. His face was the same, still giving off that air of capability. He had a little scar by his left eye. She was no expert, but she’d say he hadn’t shaved in a day or two. Thank goodness women didn’t need to shave. Nice blue eyes. And wouldn’t you know it, eyelashes that she could probably envy, if she gave the matter any thought, which she resolved never to do, because he was taking away her lovely Allan.
‘I’m sorry,’ she whispered, ‘You’re only doing what you promised you would. I hope you found someone good.’
He rolled his eyes, something she was certain no one on any ship he’d captained had ever seen from this solemn man. ‘Miss Fontaine, let us come to an understanding,’ he began. ‘You are looking at the most stupid man who ever lived.’
‘I doubt that,’ she said impulsively. ‘You’re forgetting that dreadful curate, may he rot in a leper colony somewhere, but he never will, because he would never volunteer to come within one hundred miles of one.’
He laughed. ‘You’re going to be a source of continual amusement,’ he said, still sounding both proprietary and oddly loverlike. To her further surprise, Captain Beattie put his warm palm over her mouth to stop her. Oh, dear, she liked the feeling of it far too much.
‘I obviously haven’t a single brain in my head,’ he whispered in her ear. ‘You’rethe woman I was talking about, Anna.You’rethe perfect woman. You think I’d be better at declaring myself, considering that I’ve done it once before, but I apparently haven’t learned a thing.’ He took his palm away and pulled her close.
‘Let go of me, please,’ she managed.
‘I’d rather not,’ he replied.
‘My dress is riding up.’
‘Doesn’t bother me.’
‘Grace will have something to say about this,’ she tried.
‘She’ll go back upstairs.’
Captain Beattie grabbed her behind her knees and sat down with her in his lap. She gasped in surprise, but then tentatively leaned against his chest, which meant his arms went around her. She had convinced herself years ago that any lady over twenty was too old to cuddle. She had clearly been wrong.
He didn’t seem to want to say anything more for the moment, and Anna didn’t mind. She found herself enjoying the sound of his beating heart. Her practical brain reminded her that hearts beat. That was what they were supposed to do, or everyone would be a corpse. As she listened to someone else’s heart, she knew she was never going to be alone again, not ever, provided this little event in the kitchen of the Drake went somewhere. With every fibre of her being, she realised she wanted that. So…
