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Chapter Two

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‘Evelina, my love, you are being quite tiresome!’

Sir Benjamin’s mild reproof brought his granddaughter’s wide-eyed gaze to his face. They were sitting together in the morning room where Rooney had helped Sir Benjamin to his favourite chair and was tenderly placing a rug over his legs. Eve waited until the valet had finished and was making his way out of the room before she answered.

‘Grandpapa, I have no idea what you mean.’

‘What game is this you are playing, Eve? I bring Captain Wylder here as a suitor and you seem bent on avoiding him.’

‘No, no, Grandpapa, I have been most attentive!’

‘You have presided over my dinner table and served him tea in the drawing room after,’ retorted Sir Benjamin. ‘Hardly effusive behaviour, my love. I understand from Rooney that you are gone from the house before breakfast every day and do not return until late in the afternoon. Are there suddenly so many distressed families in Makerham that require your attendance?’

‘The summer has brought on a deal of sickness and ague, sir.’

‘Then you must send Martha with a basket of food, child. I will not have you neglect our guest.’

Eve cast down her eyes. ‘Yes Grandpapa.’ She stole a glance at Sir Benjamin and saw he was frowning at her. She put out her hands. ‘Oh, sir, pray do not be angry with me. It is such a novelty to have any man save yourself in the house and it is taking me a little time to grow accustomed.’

She might have added that she found her grandfather’s guest far too attractive for her comfort, but decided against it.

‘Well I consider four days is long enough for you to grow accustomed, as you put it. I don’t say that the captain isn’t excellent company, but it’s not me that he has come here to see. If you continue to absent yourself, he will think you do not like him.’

‘It is not that, Grandpapa—’

‘My dear child, I know this is very sudden for you. When I took you to Tunbridge Wells a few years ago I had hoped that you might form an alliance, but none of the gentlemen took your fancy, and you could not be persuaded to stay with your friends in London—’

‘I could not leave you, Grandpapa,’ she said quickly. ‘You were ill and I wanted to look after you.’

He patted her hands. ‘Your heart is too kind, Eve my love, but I should have made you go; imprisoned here with me, you have no opportunity to meet eligible gentlemen.’

‘But I have not been unhappy, sir.’

‘That is not the point, Evelina,’ Sir Benjamin leaned forwards, saying urgently, ‘I am growing weaker, my love. When I am gone there will be no one to protect you. Your cousin inherits Makerham, there is nothing to be done about that, but I do not like him. I have seen the way he looks at you when he is here. I would not have you left to his care.’

She shivered at the thought. ‘You are right, Grandpapa, I do not think I should like that.’

‘So you will consider Captain Wylder’s suit?’

‘Yes, Grandpapa. If he should offer for me, I will consider his suit.’ Eve smiled. She had made up her mind that she would not relax her guard until she had received word from London about Captain Wylder. Now, with her friend Maria’s letter nestling in her pocket, she had decided upon a course of action. ‘I am sorry if I have not been as attentive to our guest as you would like, Grandpapa. I promise you I am now quite ready to entertain Captain Wylder. In fact,’ she added with a twinkle, ‘I will start this very day!’

Nick looked up from the letter he was reading as Richard Granby came into the room.

‘Bad news, Captain?’

Nick shook his head.

‘No news at all,’ he said. ‘Our quarry has gone to ground.’

‘I’m sorry to hear that.’ Granby hesitated and then said delicately, ‘And, if I might enquire, how are your plans progressing with the young lady?’

Nick tossed the letter aside. ‘They are not,’ he said shortly. ‘I am wondering if we should weigh anchor and try another tack. The admiralty wants answers and there are other leads to follow…’ his lips twitched ‘…though none so attractive.’

A knock at the door interrupted them. Nick hurriedly took up his letter and put it away while Granby answered the door. He heard a murmur of voices and turned to see his valet approaching, a folded paper in his hand.

‘A note for you, Captain.’

‘Well.’ A slow grin appeared as he read the missive. ‘Perhaps all is not lost. Miss Shawcross wants to see me. In the garden.’

Nick strode along the gravelled paths until he reached the yew walk. At the far end was a small clearing where a statue of Pan nestled against the surrounding hedge. On either side white-painted benches had been placed for those who wished to rest for a while in this sheltered retreat. Evelina was sitting on one of the benches, reading a letter. As Nick approached she looked up and gave a slight smile. He bowed.

‘You wished to talk to me, Miss Shawcross?’

She gestured towards the opposite bench and Nick sat down.

‘I did indeed, sir.’ Her soft brown eyes rested upon him. ‘You said at our very first meeting that you came here to marry me. Is that truly your intention?’

‘A direct attack,’ he said approvingly. ‘I like that.’

‘You have not answered my question, Captain.’

‘Then, yes. It is indeed my intention, Misss Shawcross.’

Her gaze did not falter. ‘Why?’

Nick’s brows rose. This was blunt indeed. ‘It is time I settled down. My family has been nagging me to do so ever since I came home from sea.’

‘But you know nothing about me.’

He smiled at her. ‘You are beautiful, witty, accomplished—and Sir Benjamin assures me you are an excellent housekeeper. Is that not enough?’

She dropped her gaze, a delicate flush mantling her cheek. ‘But you knew nothing about me when you sought out my grandfather at Tunbridge Wells.’

She raised her eyes again and Nick hesitated. How much should he tell her?

‘I did go to Tunbridge in search of Sir Benjamin,’ he admitted. ‘I planned merely to renew my family’s acquaintance with him. It soon became clear to me that Sir Benjamin was looking for a husband for you.’ A smile tugged at his lips. ‘He seemed to think I might be a suitable candidate.’

‘Do you mean that he suggested it?’ She looked shocked. ‘And you agreed to…to…’

He spread his hands, saying apologetically, ‘This seemed an opportunity not to be missed. I am glad now that I came.’

For a moment she looked delightfully flustered, but she soon recovered. ‘Very well, sir.’ She settled herself more comfortably on the bench and glanced at the papers in her hand. ‘Grandpapa may consider you suitable, but you have yet to convince me! I would like to ask you a few questions.’

Nick leaned back and crossed one booted leg over the other. ‘I am at your disposal, ma’am.’

‘We have already established that you are a sailor, and, one cannot deny it, a brave one.’

‘Thank you,’ he said meekly.

‘But you have something of a reputation in town, Captain.’ She stared down at the letter. ‘Last year your name was linked with a Mrs Stringham.’

He blinked. The chit had been checking up on him!

‘We were…friends for a few months, yes.’

‘I understand she is a lady with a somewhat tarnished reputation.’ She shrugged. ‘No doubt much more interesting for you than an ingénue.’

He choked, but she did not seem to notice and was again peering at her list.

‘Then there was Lady Alton.’

‘What of her?’ he asked warily.

‘She was your mistress, was she not? You look shocked, Captain Wylder. I thought you liked the direct attack.’

Nick sat up. By heaven, the wench was teasing him! ‘May I ask how you came by this information, Miss Shawcross?’

She held the letter to her breast. ‘You may ask, but I shall not divulge my sources.’

He leaned forward. ‘And what else do your…sources…say of me?’

She studied the sheets of paper again. ‘Well, there was Miss Brierley from Rochester, many people thought you might offer for her.’

‘What, because I took her driving in the park?’

‘Apparently so,’ she murmured, not raising her eyes from her letter. ‘And Dorothy Chate, the actress, not to mention the opera dancers—’

‘I would much rather we did not mention the opera dancers!’

She regarded him sternly. ‘Since quitting the navy, your life seems to have been one of dissipation, sir.’

He tried to look remorseful. ‘Alas, I am very much in need of a wife to keep me in order.’

‘I am not at all sure that anyone could keep you in order, Captain Wylder. Are you saying that if we were to marry you would give up your dissolute ways?’

‘I would try.’

He gave her a soulful look and noted with satisfaction the smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. She was having difficulty keeping her countenance.

‘I am not at all sure that I believe you.’

‘I fear I am in need of an occupation.’

She turned the page. ‘My correspondent tells me that you have an occupation.’

Nick froze. Now how the devil did she know that?

‘Or you should have one; you should be managing your properties in the north, Captain Wylder, not wasting your time in idle pursuits.’

He breathed again. ‘I would not call looking for a wife an idle pursuit.’

‘Captain Wylder,’ she said seriously, ‘I am not at all sure I am the wife for you.’

‘Miss Shawcross, the more I know of you the more I am convinced that you are the perfect wife for me!’

‘But I am not at all worldly. What I mean is…’ She blushed again, looking so adorable that he wanted to cross the space between them and take her in his arms. ‘What would happen when you grew tired of me?’

When he did not respond she said quietly, ‘I am not quite as naïve as you might think, Captain. I know my parents’ marriage was unusual; they were so much in love they did everything together, as equals.’ She gave a sad little smile. ‘They even died together. I do not expect that, but…’

Nick half-rose from his seat, then sank back down again. He knew that any attempt to comfort her was more likely to frighten her away. ‘But what, Miss Shawcross?’

The colour flared in her cheeks, but she was determined on her course. Her words were almost inaudible. ‘I w-would not want to share you with a mistress.’

Nick took a deep breath. By heaven, he admired her bravery. Now he must honour it with an honest reply. ‘Miss Shawcross, whatever else you may have heard about me, pray believe that I am a gentleman. If we were to marry, I give you my word you would always be treated with respect, and I would do my best to make you happy. I can promise you that I have no mistress hidden away.’ He laughed suddenly. ‘Now what is that look, do you not believe me?’

She glared at him. ‘I do not think you understand, sir.’

‘Then perhaps you can explain.’

He sat back, as she threw him another scorching look. He felt more sure of his ground when she was angry with him.

‘I have always expected Grandpapa to arrange my marriage for me, but I thought it would be a local gentleman. Someone…’

‘Someone safe and staid and boring,’ he put in helpfully.

‘Well…yes.’

He spread his hands. ‘Even the most upright country gentlemen take mistresses, you know.’

‘But they are less likely to have women falling at their feet,’ she retorted. She brandished her letter. ‘My correspondent tells me the ladies in town find you fatally attractive.’

‘Does she indeed?’

‘How do you know it is a woman?’

‘I have an instinct for these things. Does your correspondent find me fatally attractive, too?’

‘Captain Wylder I do not think you are taking this seriously.’

‘But I am! And your grandfather has already spoken to me of this.’

‘He—he has?’

‘Yes.’ Her consternation made him smile. ‘It is a question that would occur to any loving guardian. I have already assured him that, if I take a wife, she will have nothing to fear on that score.’ He paused. ‘Sir Benjamin approves of me, you know. Will you not at least consider my suit?’

She held his eyes for a moment, then folded her papers and put them into her reticule. ‘Yes, Captain Wylder, I will consider it,’ she said quietly. ‘But it is not a decision to be taken lightly.’

‘No, of course not.’

‘Thank you for being so frank with me, Captain.’

As she rose he jumped up and reached for her hand, carrying her fingers to his lips.

‘I hope we understand one another now, Miss Shawcross.’

‘I am not sure.’ She regarded him with a tiny crease between her brows. ‘I still do not understand why you should want to marry me, but we will let that pass, for now.’ She withdrew her fingers and, with a slight, regal nod of her head, she turned and walked away from him.

Eve returned to her room, her mind going over and over her interview with Captain Wylder. He had not denied any of the liaisons Maria Gryfford had detailed in her letter, but he had looked wary. Were there even more lovers that she did not know of? Eve realised she did not care how many lovers he might have had in the past; only the present and the future concerned her. A line from Lady Gryfford’s letter flitted through her mind; If the dashing Captain Wyldfire has made you an offer, then snap him up immediately, my dearest Eve. We are all mad for him! But why should he want to marry her? He did not look like the sort of man who would marry merely to please his family. But then, she had been brought up to believe she would marry to please her grandfather. Were they so very different? She put her arms around herself. It was a big decision, to leave the safety of the only home she had ever known and put herself under the protection of Nick Wylder. After all, what did she know of him? Did she trust him?

‘Yes,’ she said aloud. ‘Yes, I do. Perhaps I should not, but I do.’

‘Your pardon, Miss Eve, did you say something?’

Martha came bustling into the room.

‘What? Oh, no, no. I was merely talking to myself. Is it time to dress for dinner already? I think I will wear my blue gown again tonight, Martha.’

‘Ah, you want to look your best for the captain, is that it?’

‘Do not be so impertinent!’

Eve frowned at her handmaiden, but Martha had been part of her household since Eve had been a baby and was not so easily snubbed.

‘Well, what else is one to think, when you and he have been in the garden together this afternoon?’

‘Who told you that?’

Martha shrugged. ‘Mr Granby mentioned it…’

‘How dare you gossip about me!’

‘Lord love you, Miss Eve, we wasn’t gossiping. Mr Granby just happened to mention it in passing. Heavens, miss, how you do take one up. And what does it matter anyway, since you are going to wed him—’

‘Martha! Who says so?’

The maid stared at her. ‘Well, is it not so?’

‘No. Yes—that is…’ She dropped down on the bed, crying, ‘Oh, Martha I do not know what to do!’

‘Don’t you want to marry the captain?’

Eve spread her hands. ‘I must marry someone.’

‘And the captain is very handsome, miss.’

Eve felt herself blushing. ‘Yes he is. Very handsome.’

And exciting, and witty: Eve had never felt so attracted to any man before. Not that she had much experience, one short visit to Tunbridge Wells being the nearest she had ever been to entering society, but she had read lots of books. She knew exactly what a hero should be like, and although the gentlemen she had met at Tunbridge had all fallen well short of her expectations, she was forced to admit that Nick Wylder was the embodiment of her secret dreams. The thought was a little frightening.

‘Well, if you’ll be guided by me, you will listen to Sir Benjamin and do as he bids you, miss,’ Martha advised her. ‘He has never let you down yet.’

‘I know, Martha, but this is…marriage.’ She whispered the word, suddenly nervous of it and the thoughts it conjured.

‘Lord love you, that is just the time to be advised by your grandpapa,’ said Martha cheerfully. ‘If Sir Benjamin thinks the captain is the right man for you, then so it is, and a sight better catch than your cousin Bernard,’ she added, suddenly serious. ‘And that’s who you’ll end up with if the master dies and leaves you alone. I’ve seen ’im sniffing round you when he’s been here on a visit.’

‘Stop it, Martha.’ Eve shuddered. ‘Besides, I have heard that my cousin is hanging out for a rich wife.’

‘Aye, well, maybe he is,’ opined Martha darkly. ‘But that won’t stop him trying to get you between the sheets, with or without a wedding ring!’

With this dire warning she went off to fetch Eve’s gown, leaving her mistress to stare after her.

By the time she went down to dinner Eve was no closer to making a decision, but she was too well-bred to let her inner turmoil show and she greeted Sir Benjamin and the captain with her usual calm smile. Despite her assured performance in the garden that afternoon she was a little nervous of meeting Nick again, but his polite, gentle friendliness soon put her at her ease. However, Sir Benjamin’s suggestion after dinner that the young people should take a stroll in the garden while it was still light threw her into a panic.

‘An excellent idea,’ murmured Nick, his eyes glinting, but not unkindly. ‘Come, Miss Shawcross, indulge me in a little walk.’ He leaned closer and murmured. ‘It need be nothing more, I promise you.’

Feeling the hot blood in her cheeks, she hurried away to fetch her wrap and returned to find only Nick waiting for her in the hall.

‘Sir Benjamin has retired,’ he informed her as she came down the stairs towards him. ‘He asked that you go up to see him when we come back in.’ He held out his arm to her. ‘Shall we walk? You need not worry,’ he added, seeing her hesitation. ‘We shall talk of the most unexceptional subjects, if you like.’

His understanding calmed her jangled nerves. She put her hand on his arm and allowed him to lead her out of the house.

At first they discussed the weather, then books and music, but when they had strolled past the parterre and into the shrubbery, Nick said suddenly, ‘I think, Miss Shawcross, that I owe you an apology.’ She glanced up at him and he continued, ‘It seems Sir Benjamin truly did not prepare you for my visit.’

She flushed. ‘This is not the unexceptional topic you promised me, Captain.’

‘I know, but you are very reserved with me tonight. You are trying to make up your mind whether or not to marry me, is that not so?’

‘Of course not!’ she exclaimed, startled. ‘It is…’ She trailed off. ‘To be truthful with you, yes,’ she admitted.

He stopped and turned to her, catching at her hands. ‘And what is so difficult about that decision, Miss Shawcross?’

He lifted her hand to his lips and began to kiss her fingers, one by one. She watched, transfixed.

‘I, um…’

He lifted her other hand and, when he had finished with her fingers, his lips moved on to her wrist, sending a fiery shock the length of her arm.

‘I cannot think,’ she confessed.

He raised his head and smiled at her. Eve’s fingers were still tingling and she found herself staring at his mouth, wondering at the havoc his lips could cause. The smile in his eyes deepened. He cupped her chin.

‘Sometimes it is best not to think,’ he murmured and gently brought his mouth down upon hers.

It was the lightest of kisses, a mere brushing of lips, but it sent Eve’s senses reeling and as Nick pulled away her face remained upturned, inviting him to kiss her again. He gazed down at her.

‘A young lady should not allow a gentleman to kiss her unless she means to marry him,’ he murmured.

‘Then perhaps you have made my decision for me,’ she replied.

He laughed, pulled her hand back on to his arm and they resumed their stroll.

‘I shall not coerce you into this, Miss Shawcross; it must be your decision.’

‘It is in truth my grandfather’s decision,’ she told him. ‘Or at least, his wish. But your assumption was correct, Captain. He did not mention you were coming.

I should not be surprised by it, however. He always said that one day he would bring home a husband for me.’ She sighed. ‘I never really believed him.’

‘Surely he has not kept you locked away here all these years?’ He sounded slightly shocked and she gave a little gurgle of laughter.

‘Like a princess in a fairy-tale? No, of course not. I have attended assemblies in Makerham village upon occasion. And I went to Tunbridge a few years ago.’

‘Then of course you know all you need to know about the world!’

‘I know enough to realise that I am very happy to remain here at Makerham. Everything I want is here.’

‘Is it? Do you never long to know what is going on outside these walls?’

‘There are the news sheets—’

‘That is not the same! There are towns and cities—whole countries waiting to be explored. Does that thought not fill you with excitement?’

The thought filled Evelina with dread. She stepped away from him to cup a particularly lovely rose between her fingers, breathing in its fragrance while she formulated her answer. Apart from one or two early memories of life with her parents and a few brief years at school, Makerham was the only world she had ever known. Outside was alien and full of danger, like the infection that had carried off her parents. Her life here at Makerham was safe, secure; the thought of her cousin taking possession was something she did not want to consider.

‘I am very happy here,’ she said again.

Nick strolled along beside Evelina, his hands clasped firmly behind his back to prevent them reaching out and pulling her into his arms. He had never known such a glorious summer’s evening; bees hummed around the plants and the scent of lavender filled the air. Then there was Evelina herself; she was beautiful, but there was an air of calm about her, serenity. It was like finding a safe harbour after stormy weeks at sea. When he had sought out Sir Benjamin at Tunbridge Wells he had already formulated his plans; if he needed to marry to obtain his ends, then he was prepared to do his duty, but never had he expected duty to be quite so pleasurable.

He stopped and gently turned her to face him. ‘I understand how much you love Makerham, but could you consider living elsewhere?’

‘I think I must, sir, since the house will pass to my cousin when Grandpapa dies.’

‘That is not quite what I meant. Sir Benjamin brought me here as a prospective husband for you. I am not sure what he has told you about me…’

‘Only that your father was an earl: that is looking pretty high for a baronet’s daughter.’ Her lilting smile jolted his senses. It took all his will-power not to drag her into his arms and cover her face with kisses, but he needed to talk to her.

‘Evelina—Eve, from our discussions this afternoon you know I have not led a blameless life, but I told you that will change when I take a wife. I have a comfortable income and two estates in the north. I can afford to give you a Season in town every year, should you wish it. You will have your own carriage and we could buy a property nearer Makerham, closer to your grandfather, if that is what you want.’

‘Captain Wylder, this is too soon!’

He put a finger against her lips. ‘Perhaps, but I do everything in a hurry, my dear; as soon as I saw you I knew that I wanted to wed you.’ He saw the confusion in her face and stopped. He drew away a little, took a breath and said gently, ‘You need not answer immediately. I merely want you to understand what I am offering you.’

There was a slight shadow in her eyes as she looked up at him. ‘That is all very well, Captain, but I do not understand what I can offer you.’

He hesitated, then said lightly, ‘I believe that you bring with you your mother’s property at Monkhurst.’

She laughed. ‘A rundown house on the edge of Romney Marsh! I love it, and spent some happy times there as a child, but no one has lived there since Mama and Papa died. It is a poor dowry, Captain Wylder. I fear I will get the best of this bargain, sir!’

His spirit soared. She was almost his, he could read it in her eyes. A dizzying happiness shook him. He ran his hands down her arms and caught her fingers.

‘No, Eve, I think I will have a great deal more than I bargained for!’

Eve stared at the dark head bent over her hands. This could not be happening to her; when she was at school she had read novels of handsome knights carrying off damsels in distress, but that was fantasy. Besides, she was not in distress. Or was she? She was twenty-four years old and she had never found anyone she would like to marry, nor was she likely to meet anyone while she lived in such seclusion. Her grandfather was much weaker than he had been even a few months ago. If he should die while she was still unmarried, then what would become of her? The vision of her cousin filled her mind. She had never liked Bernard, sensing in his nature a cruel streak that made her a little afraid of him. And now here was this handsome, dashing sea captain offering her his hand and he came with her grandfather’s blessing. There really was no choice.

Eve realised Nick was looking at her with a steady, unsettling gaze. She needed to say something. ‘How soon do you wish to be married, Captain Wylder?’

Goodness, how matter of fact she sounded.

‘By the end of the month.’

‘The end of the—!’

‘Why, yes, I see no reason to rush into this with a special licence. We have time for the banns to be read in church. We shall be married here, of course. I have no doubt that is what you would like—’

‘But I haven’t agreed to it yet!’

With a laugh he pulled her into his arms. ‘No, but you will.’

He was grinning down at her. Eve found it difficult to concentrate, her thoughts seemed to centre on the dimple in his left cheek.

‘Wh-what will Grandpapa say to such a hasty marriage?’

‘Oh I think he will agree.’ He kissed her, a sizzling, burning kiss that sent shockwaves tingling right down to her toes. ‘What say you, Eve, will you be my wife?’

‘But—’ She tried to collect her wayward thoughts. ‘We have only just met!’

‘And we have more than three weeks until the wedding to get to know one another.’ He kissed her again. ‘Well?’

She struggled out of his arms. ‘No, no. It is out of the question,’ she said crossly. ‘You appear out of nowhere, big and brash and—and totally overwhelming, and you expect me to agree to be your wife! No, sir, I will not do it!’

He dropped to his knees before her, throwing his arms wide. ‘Evelina, don’t you want to marry me?’

She clapped her hands over her mouth to stifle a giggle. ‘Get up, sir, before someone sees you!’

‘Not until you answer my question.’

Evelina stared at him. His blue eyes twinkled and that irrepressible dimple cut into his cheek. Heavens, was the man never serious?

‘Well, Evelina; will you give me your answer?’

A stillness settled over the garden. The birds were silent, not a breath of wind stirred the bushes; the whole world was hushed, waiting for her reply. Suddenly she knew that there was nothing she wanted more than to be married to Nick Wylder.

‘Very well,’ she said quietly. ‘I will marry you.’

Pride in Regency Society

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