At the Captain's Command. Louise Gouge M.

when he met Hussey, a single line from Shakespeare’s Julius Caesar had come to mind: “Yon Cassius has a lean and hungry look.” If Hussey revealed himself to possess the same depth of wily ambition as the scheming Roman Cassius, all the more reason to investigate his treatment of Dinah.

      As for the young lady’s assertion that she would not wed a seafarer, Thomas acknowledged her decision was a wise one. As her friend, he wished only for her happiness. Still, the military man within him felt a bit of challenge, a surge of pride, even, that he could conquer that resolve, should he so desire.

      Which, of course, he did not. But he was pleased to have a confidant who seemed to understand his situation. He should like to see Dinah well cared for. Even if he couldn’t personally guarantee her happiness, he could not allow her to stay in an unsuitable situation. He would wait and learn what he could and if need be, he would act.

      Chapter Five

      Seated in St. Peter’s Church, Dinah sensed someone’s gaze on the back of her head, so she opened her prayer book, trying not to look over her shoulder. Her attempt failed. A glance across the aisle and to the rear revealed Mr. Wayland’s bold stare and impudent grin, both of which ceased the instant a frowning captain nudged the young lieutenant with his fist.

      Her heart lightened by the captain’s protective gesture, Dinah turned back to face the altar, taking care not to knock loose her wide-brimmed straw hat by bumping into Anne’s smaller chapeau. Anne gave her a smile, then returned her attention to her open Bible.

      Dinah tried to refocus on her own prayer book, but the playful invitation in the lieutenant’s expression lingered in her thoughts. Did he have no respect for this place of worship? While other unattached young ladies might find church the perfect place to engage the interests of young gentlemen, Dinah thought the practice bordered on heresy. It was all well and good to introduce Thomas to her friends after the service ended. However, one attended church services to consider God’s mercies and worship Him. Indeed, this was the only place where Dinah ever felt the presence of God.

      Pray though she might every day, believe in Him as she did with all her heart, she could never quite attain the serenity Anne had exhibited since they were children. Anne seemed to know God intimately, which surely gave her the grace to endure her marriage and even to love Artemis. For Dinah, God seemed distant, inaccessible, unheeding of her cries, uncaring about the loneliness she had felt all her life. Other than Anne, whom had Dinah ever loved who had not abandoned her?

      She shook off her self-pity. Even if God chose not to speak to her, she would still choose to believe in His goodness and serve Him as best she could, just as Anne did. Anne, who sat here without complaint because there was no Friends meeting in St. Augustine. Here in St. Peter’s, the lovely liturgy and insightful sermons bore little resemblance to Nantucket’s quiet, but equally spiritual Quaker meetings, in which no one spoke unless guided by the Inner Light. Yet Anne often said how important it was to meet with other Christians to worship God, whatever form that worship took.

      Although Dinah had never felt the Inner Light, she did find joy and comfort in repeating the prayers and singing the songs with the other congregants. Moreover, Reverend Kennedy’s sermons always inspired her. No doubt Thomas would agree with her, for he had expressed sincere eagerness to attend today’s service. Furthermore, when he mentioned the Almighty, he spoke with reverence. Surely he was a pious man. Dinah wondered if he had ever felt an inner light from God…and wondered if it would be poor manners to ask him.

      As the service began, Thomas found himself distracted, not to mention infuriated by Wayland’s insolent gaping at Dinah. No matter how lovely she was, he would not permit his officers or crew or anyone else to gawk at her as if they would breach her modesty. In the absence of her brother, and despite the useless presence of that Hussey fellow, Thomas would make certain every man knew she had a kinsman to whom they would answer.

      With no small amount of effort, he managed to settle his anger and focus on the collective reading from his prayer book just as Dinah was doing. He wished he could see her face rather than the back of her charming beribboned hat. Her piety set an example for the other young ladies, several of whom had ogled him and his officers from the moment they had entered St. Peter’s.

      But alas, as he read the familiar words, his thoughts once again took their own direction. He may as well admit that Dinah drew his interest more than a little. Surely her familial connection and her compassion for his grief caused this longing to spend more time with her. And perhaps he could offer advice or solace for the sorrow he had seen in her eyes several times the other evening. Was that not the purpose of families?

      Had he not been in church, he would have snorted in derision at his own thoughts. If his family were taken as an example, then blood bonds were often the cause of more pain than healing. Yet he longed to heal his relatives’ griefs, longed to see to their needs just as he did for his crew. Indeed, after tending to several issues yesterday—letters to his crew’s families gathered for the next ship to London, injuries and illnesses, wages paid to all, admonishments given to the men of weaker character to avoid drunkenness—Thomas could rest assured he had done his duty by those who served under him.

      Duty. It was what he lived for, his purpose for being. And in addition to his crew, he performed his duty to his king and, long before that, to his father, who had impressed upon him the obligations of the nobility and their offspring. But what was his duty to Dinah?

      Just as Reverend Kennedy stood to begin his sermon, Thomas lifted a silent prayer that he would know how to serve the young lady. Such a delightful, capable creature should be married, should be mistress of her own home. He had heard that few marriageable ladies lived in St. Augustine compared to the many unmarried men, and so surely she had received offers. But perhaps there was a dearth of eligible Christian men in the city. Clearly her heart was not engaged, yet she seemed to have no objections to marriage, except to a seafarer. Perhaps the Almighty would have Thomas interview potential suitors. Somehow the idea settled like lead in his mind. More to his liking would be to warn off any man who cast a glance in her direction.

      As the minister and deacons made their way up the aisle at the close of the service, Dinah gripped the back of the bench in front of her to keep from turning around to look for Thomas. She would not, simply must not seek his company, for such behavior would be inappropriate.

      But even before the front pews emptied, Artemis shoved his way into the crowd. “Come along, Mrs. Hussey.” He glanced at Dinah and gave a quick jerk of his head. “Come along.” Almost dragging poor Anne, he made his way toward the captain, who had already been surrounded by people clamoring for his attention.

      Even Governor Tonyn approached the group of naval officers, and when people noticed, the way parted before him. Artemis almost jumped out of the governor’s path, and Dinah bit her lip to keep from laughing. Thomas must have noticed as well, for he caught Dinah’s gaze, his eyes twinkled, and he lifted one eyebrow. She gave him a tiny nod, then moved along the edge of the mob toward the door.

      Standing inside the open front doors, Reverend Kennedy smiled warmly. “Good morning, Miss Templeton.”

      “Good morning, Reverend. Thank you for your lovely sermon. I was deeply moved.” She curtseyed, then moved on to make way for others. Indeed, the sermon had been quite inspirational, and she longed to discuss the minister’s words with someone who understood how it had touched her emotions.

      Outside on St. George Street, she blinked in the bright sunlight and tugged at her hat brim to shield her eyes. Surprised to see that few parishioners had emerged, she attributed the phenomenon to the appeal of the captain and his officers. She glanced up at the clock on the spire of St. Peter’s. Almost noon. Her stomach responded to that information with a tiny growl.

      Soldiers from the fort eyed her and made remarks among themselves, so she stared down the street toward the Parade, hoping they would not approach. It was one thing to minister to these men when they were sick, but another thing altogether when they were hale and hardy and attempted to gain her interest. Soon her concerns about the matter ended when people began to pour from St. Peter’s and go their separate ways.

      “Dinah.”