The Captain's Frozen Dream. Georgie Lee

Now he would hear them all. Whether or not he would choose to believe them, especially after what he’d seen today, she didn’t know. Everyone else had been so quick to accept them, so why not him?

      ‘I’m home now, Katie, you don’t have to worry,’ he whispered in the same soft voice he’d used to deliver the news he was leaving for his expedition. It didn’t soothe her any more now than it had a year and a half ago.

      ‘It would have been better if you’d come back sooner.’ Before she’d lost all faith in him and their future together.

      ‘I would have, but the ice had other plans for me.’

      His hand against her stomach eased. Guilt swept over the back of her neck along with the faint caress of his breath. For everything she’d suffered, his suffering must have been tenfold. She laid her hand over his, noticing the slight tremor in his fingers. She squeezed his hand and the shaking stopped. Their future together might be over, but it didn’t mean she didn’t care for him or couldn’t soothe him.

      He didn’t return the small squeeze, but slid his hand out of hers and took the reins. He was pulling away from her and she couldn’t blame him. This wasn’t the homecoming he’d expected. It wasn’t the one she’d pictured either, though she’d given up imagining him returning months ago. Now he was here and she didn’t know what to think or believe.

       Chapter Two

      The countryside around them appeared to Conrad like a dream. Familiar rocks and trees dotted the landscape and the rising full moon turned them a ghostly grey. A cool breeze brushed through the grass flanking the road, and the steady clop of the horse’s hooves filled the night air. Wisps of Katie’s hair danced about the sides of her face, sliding free of the slim pins keeping the tangle of blonde curls together at the back of her head.

      An owl called from somewhere overhead and the horse broke its steady pace. With one hand, Conrad tugged the reins to stop the horse from bolting. With the other, he held on tight to Katie to keep her from falling. The soft inhale his grip provoked proved as jarring to his nerves as the owl’s screech, more so when his manhood stirred at the shift of her buttocks against him. Conrad drew in a steadying breath. In the evening air hung the faint must of wet, fallen leaves mingling with the sweetness of Katie’s rose soap. Without thinking, he drew her closer against him, the heat of her more welcome than any he’d ever enjoyed from the stove deep in the hold of the ship trapped in the hard-packed ice.

      She sat rigid against him, refusing to relax the way she used to whenever they’d ridden out together in search of fossils and time alone. The distance between them unnerved him. He didn’t know the extent of what had happened while he’d been gone, but he could imagine. Without Conrad to protect her, it would have been easy for Lord Helton to set the dogs of society upon a woman of Katie’s humble background. He’d seen his uncle level several such attacks on his mother and knew the vicious lengths the marquis might employ to ostracise and punish those he didn’t think worthy of bearing the Helton family name.

      Conrad adjusted his feet in the stirrups. He’d promised Katie when they’d become engaged he wouldn’t allow society or his uncle to harm her. He’d failed. It was another in a mounting pile of failures and mistakes threatening to crush him like an avalanche.

      He ran his fingers through his hair, the shortness of it still a shock after he’d grown it so long in the Arctic. By now Henry must have reached London and handed Conrad’s report to Second Secretary of the Admiralty, John Barrow. Conrad could only imagine what fury and damnation awaited his inability to find the Northwest Passage and bring Gorgon home. Mr Barrow had stood beside Conrad before, when Lord Helton had done all he could to prevent Conrad from receiving a command. He didn’t know if Mr Barrow would stand beside him again or viciously denounce him like he had Captain Ross after Ross had failed to explore the bay Mr Barrow believed led to the Northwest Passage. The Second Secretary had been stealthy in his attacks against Ross, penning anonymous articles in widely read magazines and whispering against him to influential members of the Admiralty. No one could ever prove it was Mr Barrow who’d been behind the attempts to discredit and disgrace Captain Ross, but he’d never been fully exonerated either. If an attack was coming, Conrad wouldn’t see it until it was too late.

      The horse rounded a curve filled with trees and Heims Hall at last came into view. Conrad straightened in the saddle, indulging in the sight of it. It’d been a long time since he’d seen the sturdy brick walls lined with rows of familiar windows and the steeply pitched roof. Built in the sixteenth century, it was small and intimate, the home of a man, not the seat of a scion. Only Katie, so solid in front of him, kept him from sliding off his horse to kiss the ground in thanksgiving. There’d been too many times when he’d thought he’d never see such a glorious view again, but he’d fought nature and overwhelming odds to return.

      Not all of his men would have the same opportunity to experience this relief at coming home.

      His hold on the reins eased as the intermittent trembles which had plagued him since Greenland weakened his grip once more. Thankfully, the darkness covered the shaking. It was bad enough Katie had sensed it before. He didn’t want her, or anyone, to know how deep the scars from his expedition ran, or how they continued to strangle his belief in himself and his abilities as a leader.

      Conrad settled back down against the leather and guided the horse around the house to the stables behind, determined to allow the events of the past year to lie tonight. In the morning he’d get to the meat of them. He only prayed the damage wasn’t as bad as instinct warned, either to himself, his career or his future with Katie.

      In the shadow of the stable lamp, a groom rose from where he sat whittling, curls of wood falling over his lap. His eyes went wide at the sight of Conrad before he tossed the stick and knife aside.

      ‘Captain Essington! Why, I don’t believe it.’ Mr Peet hustled forward on his long legs to catch the reins, his joy at Conrad’s return as bright on his face as the light from the lantern. ‘Mrs Peet will be so glad to see ya, everyone will be, well, excepting Miss Linton, she’s never happy to see anybody.’

      ‘It’s good to be home. You remember Miss Vickers.’

      ‘I do.’ He doffed his cap at Katie. ‘It’s a pleasure to see you again, Miss Vickers.’

      ‘And you, too, Mr Peet,’ Katie replied, although her voice lacked the same enthusiasm as the groom’s.

      ‘Oh!’ Katie breathed, as Conrad let go of the reins and slid his hands around her waist. It was smaller than he remembered and she seemed more fragile and vulnerable than when he’d left. She gripped his wrists tight as he shifted her off his lap and lowered her to the mounting block. As she stepped off it, she rocked as if she’d been on the deck of a ship for months, not on the back of a horse for a mile or two.

      Gritting his teeth against the stiffness in his back, legs and hands, Conrad slid down on to the block. He turned to see Katie watching him, worry marring the small lines along the corners of her lips. She’d seen him wince, sensed the slowness of his movements and guessed he was weakened by the north. He turned to the saddle bag to retrieve her satchel, not wanting her or anyone’s pity, not even his own.

      With the small bag in his hand, he stepped off the block, patting the horse’s rump as Mr Peet led it away.

      ‘Shall we?’ Conrad motioned to the house.

      * * *

      The rising moonlight glinted off the large bank of windows making up one wall of the conservatory jutting from the rear of the house. Katie didn’t want to go inside, especially with the light burning in the upstairs window. The flick of a curtain in Miss Linton’s room announced the spinster’s presence and her curiosity. Whenever Katie and her father had stayed here, she had gone to great lengths to avoid the thin, buck-toothed woman. More so after Katie and Conrad’s engagement had been announced. The woman, only a year or two older than Katie’s twenty-five, had always looked upon Katie with as little warmth as Lord Helton. However,