“I am surprised a proud English militarian who fought in the War of 1812 against America would stoop to quoting George Washington to prove a point.”
He went to counter, then frowned. “Are you sure that was Washington?”
“Sure enough to wager a hundred guineas on it, Captain, as he also said that military arrangements and movements, in consequence, like the mechanism of aclock, will beimperfectanddisorderedby the want of a part.” Georgie could not help reaching across the table and flicking one of his two pocket watches as she practically sung that. “And that always reminds me of you.”
What had possessed her to say that? Do that? And with a wry smile on her face that let him know that she thought his obsession with time was funny.
“Right, then…” He glanced down at his still-swaying watch,unimpressed, obviously back to being the hard-boiled Captain Kincaid who was easier to dislike than the soft-boiled one she had made hot chocolate for ten days ago, because his whole demeanor was formal again. Her fault. She had insulted a clock and that was clearly a cardinal sin. “What was the second thing you wished to discuss?” He then clicked open one of his dratted watches to let her know that she’d already had all her allotted time, and that forced Georgie to give her wayward tongue a warning.
Be diplomatic!
“I wanted to talk to you about the children.” His eyes narrowed, expecting the worst. “They need you and it isn’t fair for you to leave them.”
She thought he was going to tell her off for her impertinence as she fully expected—but he didn’t. He held her gaze for several moments, irritated, before his shoulders slumped again.
“It isn’t fair.” He sighed as he nodded his agreement, surprising her yet again that he occasionally possessed the ability to be reasonable and… human.
“Can’t you postpone leaving for just a few weeks? At least give them a bit more time with their favorite uncle, while they are already missing their parents so much, before you abandon them. Theyareyour responsibility, after all.” Of its own accord, her schoolmistress’s finger began to wag. “Entrusted to you specifically by your sister, and such disruption in their young lives again so soon after—”
He caught her finger mid-wag. “Before you lecture me onmyresponsibilities—which I can assure you I need no reminders of—” There was anger swirling in those dark eyes now. Anger and guilt and, she could have sworn, briefly a hint of despair in them too, although she couldn’t be sure when his skin was touching hers and hers seemed to have come alive as a result. As that was most distracting indeed, she tugged her finger from his grasp and clasped it on her lap. “I had already decided I would drag the children along with me to Plymouth rather than simplyabandon them.”
“What?” She hadn’t expected him to say that.
“I shall task Polly with packing all their things tomorrow, so they are ready to leave with the lark the following morning as I must be in Plymouth by the first.” He fiddled with the paper on his desk again rather than look at her in a way that made her wonder if he was about to inform her that her services were no longer required. Tasking Polly with the packing certainly suggested that. As the lack of “us” did in the telling “leave with the lark” comment, which did not in any way seem to include her. “As inconvenient as taking them with me is, it feels like the most prudent thing to do as it will be impossible to watch over them as I havespecificallybeen entrusted otherwise.”
“How selfish!” That retort exploded angry enough that even the captain was taken aback.
So much for diplomacy and tact!
But in her defense, his affronted and patronizing tone had brought St. Joan to the fore, and once she was out, she was out. As, it seemed, was Georgie—at least as far as this temporary position was concerned. Which all rather made the need for diplomacy moot anyway. “And how irresponsible!” The renegade finger wagged again. “You cannotdragthem all the way to Plymouth!”
His dark brows furrowed in the same arrogant manner as the colonel’s always had when one of hissuperiordecisions was questioned. “Whyever not? When not a moment ago you argued that my abandoning them again was too disruptive and wasn’t fair, so how is taking them with me worse?”
“Because forcing children to up sticks and move to a strangeplace simply at the whim of the navy will be even more disruptive and unsettling for the poor dears when they have only just settled here!” That was a travesty that Georgie—and not St. Joan—felt passionate about. “As one who was constantly dragged around at the whim of the army until I was sixteen, I know that whatever barracks you incarcerate them in will not help them thrive.” That, she had bitter experience of. “Children are considered a nuisance to the military, Captain Kincaid. They are expected to stay shut indoors and be kept well out of everyone’s way.” Her schoolmistress’s finger wagged wildly now, and because she was incensed and apparently had nothing to lose, she let it do so with impunity.
“They endure unrelenting boredom, make no friends, have no respite from the regimented monotony and it crushes their spirits until there is nothing left of them to crush! Such a life, no matter how short, leaves scars, and those children…” The wagging stopped when Joan of Arc’s righteous finger suddenly pointed to the ceiling above, where those children were currently sleeping in blissful innocence of the travesty about to be inflicted upon them. “Your nieces and nephew—who adore you for some inexplicable reason—deserve better!”
For a moment, he appeared more amused by her outburst than outraged before he masked that with more matter-of-fact blandness. “Which is precisely why I am taking themhome, Miss Rowe. My sister’s house in Cawsand is seven miles as the crow flies from the Plymouth Dockyard. I shall be staying with them there.”
Then, rather than enjoy her shocked expression as much as he seemed to want to, he returned his attention to the papers on his desk. After he frowned some more, he huffed but still did not look up.
“Despite my continued reservations about your somewhat untraditional methods of educating my sister’s feral children outside ratherthan in the classroom where they belong, or your incessantly and unnecessary wagging finger—” He glared at it because it was still poised, forcing her to lower it in contrition. “—the children seem to like you—though heaven only knows why—so I was going to ask you if you would like to come with us?”
There was the faintest glimmer of amusement and mischief in his dark eyes as he stared levelly. “Help mitigate against all thatdisruptionthat you are so incensed about that prevents the little monsters fromthrivinguntil my flighty sister returns. But if the thought of upping sticks and being dragged to Devon at the Royal Navy’s whim for just a month doesn’t appeal, I quite understand. You signed on expecting Mayfair, not the distant hell of Plymouth, and as I am about to breach the terms of our original contract, I shall of course pay you until the end of it if you choose to jump ship early. Kindly let me know your decision in the morning, Miss Rowe, and we shall go from there.”
He picked up his quill and offered her a dismissive nod. “I bid you and your finger good night.”
ChapterSIXTEEN
“Norbert can wait the five minutes it will take me to settle your very unsettled sisters in the room. Little Grace is dead on her feet and Marianne cannot help being a bad traveler. She hasn’t chosen to feel queasy and you should be more sympathetic.” In his peripheral vision, Harry watched Miss Rowe wag a finger at the whining Felix while he sorted out his horse. “And I do not care that you think that being ten gives you the right to do as you please without the need for any adult fussing. You are not wandering off alone in this strange place and that is that.”
A whole week on, filled with futile soul-searching, and he still had no earthly idea what had made him invite her along too. Especially when his promotion and imminent departure to Plymouth had been the perfect excuse to get rid of her.
Harry had been determined to do just that the night she came to his study after the unfortunate incident with the frog. Thanks to the mountain he had to climb with theBoadicea, and his mounting and terrifying attraction to the siren, he had already decided it madethe most sense to banish the distraction of her once and for all. A quick, clean, and ruthless cut that he had known would hurt initially because he had allowed himself to get too attached to her but which, like lancing a boil, would make him feel much better in the long run. Then, with his focus all channeled on just the one troublesome ship rather than being spread too thin here, there, and everywhere, he could exorcise the strange but debilitating dissatisfaction which had gripped him for months, and he could find some joy in his promotion.
He had intended to thank Miss Rowe for her efforts to date, pay her a handsome severance, then never have to see or think or go to war with himself about her ever again.
That had been his plan right up until she had lectured him on responsibilities, and then some masochistic devil inside of him, the part that enjoyed her fiery, rebellious temperament too much, had suddenly invited her along. An invitation he had regretted constantly in the seven days since he had made it—yet despite that, and despite all his lofty promises to himself that he would rescind it well before they hit Plymouth, he hadn’t yet found the strength to do it. Instead, he had been such a belligerent and self-centered lion with a thorn in its paw that all the children were now actively avoiding him too.
