At the Captain's Command. Louise M. Gouge

of subject, he considered the question. “When I was a lad, my family did not speak of our faith, but we attended services without fail. One is expected to set an example whether as the son of a nobleman or as an officer in the military.” He paused, hoping his reference to being wellborn did not sound arrogant. “Until I met your good brother, I do not recall ever having a deep conversation about religion with anyone.”

      Her lovely smile returned, and her eyes shone with pride. “Jamie is rather bold about such matters, is he not?”

      “He is, much to his credit. My brother Robert and I have both benefitted by his concern for our souls.” And their eldest brother, Lord Bennington, as well, although the newly-elevated earl might not acknowledge it.

      “And of course Frederick and Marianne.” Her eyebrows rose.

      “Marianne has always been a woman of faith.”

      “Yes, she is much like Anne.” She was silent for a moment, but her thoughtful expression kept him from speaking. “You do not mention Frederick.”

      “Mmm.” He would not burden her with his fraternal discord. If their planned trip to Bennington Plantation became a reality, she would soon enough see how things stood between his younger brother and him, a thought that did not sit well on his mind.

      “Mmm,” she echoed, but her voice and expression held no censure, which Thomas found refreshing, reassuring.

      They walked in companionable silence for several moments. At least Thomas hoped she felt as relaxed as he did. The day was fair, if hot, but a few shady oaks and breezes from the ocean gave them intermittent respite from the sun’s rays.

      She leaned into his arm in a sociable way but seemed unaware of her own movement. “My purpose in opening the subject of religion is that Reverend Kennedy’s sermon caused me to think. We all require grace ex tended to us. And as we wish to receive it when we err, so should we extend it to those who have offended us.”

      He regarded her with interest. “Wise words, Miss Templeton.” The young lady was not only beautiful, but astute as well. As he had assumed during the service, her mind had been on spiritual matters, not the matchmaking schemes that seemed to emanate from some of the other girls.

      They neared the whitewashed coquina walls that surrounded her house, and his anger reignited at the thought of seeing Hussey again. “Of course there is a difference between personal affronts and breaking the law. One cannot extend grace to miscreants or any man not doing his duty.”

      She questioned him with a frown. “No, of course not. Do you speak of someone in particular?”

      Thomas stared over the five-and-a-half-foot barrier that protected the courtyard to see Hussey stride from the house like a preening peacock.

      “Ah, there you are, Miss Templeton. Why, Captain Moberly, how good to see you—” Hussey released the iron latch and swung the door inward.

      Thomas did not pass through and saw to his satisfaction that his companion hesitated, too. “I cannot return the compliment, sirrah. What do you mean by leaving Miss Templeton at the church to find her way home unescorted?” He heard her soft gasp beside him, but he would not permit her to protect this toad, who now stared at him with mouth agape.

      “B-but, sir, this is St. Augustine. We are a walled city, protected from interlopers and wild beasts by armed outposts on the walls, not to mention our well-armed garrison. Who would dare to—” he waved his bony hands about in a nervous manner “—annoy any of the ladies within our fair town?” The pitch of his voice rose to a squeak, and he tugged at his frilled cravat. “On a Sunday morning? In broad daylight?”

      Thomas glanced down at Dinah, whose bemused expression gave him pause. Had he erred in his assessment of the situation? Too late, he recalled that Dinah saw to her errands unescorted during the week.

      “In any event,” the man said, “Mrs. Hussey and I assumed she would spend hours gossiping with her friends, as is her custom. Is it not, Miss Templeton?”

      “I would not say hours—”

      “And of course, Mrs. Hussey and I are not given to gossip, especially after a worship service, therefore we returned home. But never mind.” Suddenly all affability, Hussey gestured toward the house. “Do come in, Captain. We would be delighted to have you join us for our midday meal. A modest fare, but wholesome nonetheless.”

      A war of thoughts ignited in Thomas’s mind. Hussey’s suggestion that Dinah was a gossip while he was blameless of that shortcoming bordered on being not only a direct insult but also a lie. Grasping for self-control, Thomas quashed the desire to challenge the charge, but now he felt no need to apologize to this boor for his own error. As for spending time in this oaf’s presence or obligating himself by accepting another meal, nothing could be more distasteful. Yet he still must address the missing invitation to the ball. Before he could respond, Dinah’s lavender perfume wafted up to his nostrils, soothing his turmoil, and she gave him a sweet smile. All rancor disappeared. That is, all but his annoyance over the missing invitation.

      “You are most hospitable, sir.” Thomas took Dinah’s elbow and guided her through the gate opening.

      Hussey watched their movements with narrowed eyes, reminding Thomas of a viper. But the expression melted into an oily smile. Thomas would have to watch his words and actions around this man. And he would endeavor to deliver his next accusation with less force.

      Waiting in the parlor for Cook to announce dinner, Dinah shifted uncomfortably on her straight-back chair. She and Anne traded glances. All their efforts at pleasant conversation had failed, and Artemis seemed to have run out of things to boast about. Thomas sat, silent as a stone statue, balancing his teacup and saucer on his knees. From the glint in his eyes, Dinah could see he had more to say to Artemis, perhaps about the missing ball invitation. But for some reason, he had become taciturn the moment they had entered the house, no doubt in deference to Anne. Should Dinah introduce that topic?

      “Captain,” Anne said, “is there any way in which the people of St. Augustine might show their appreciation to thee and thy crew for thy protection of our coast? Perhaps the ladies might mend or sew for thee, as we have for the other ships’ crews? Perhaps bake pastries or even prepare a picnic?”

      His gaze softened considerably at her words. “How generous, Mrs. Hussey. I thank you for those offers and will not refuse them.” He gave Artemis a sly look.

      Dinah almost laughed. Anne had no idea of the opening she had just given the captain.

      “We have never been received quite so well as by the people of this fair city.” He took a sip of tea. “In fact, my officers and I anticipate a grand time at the governor’s ball this Friday.” He blinked with seeming innocence, and again Dinah could barely contain her laughter. “You have received your invitation, have you not, Mrs. Hussey?”

      Now Anne blinked. “Why, no. But perhaps we were not meant to be included.” She gave him a serene smile. “Despite the friendliness amongst our citizens, we cannot be counted as members of the city’s elite society.”

      “Nonsense, my dear,” Artemis blustered. “We are most certainly among the elite.”

      “But I put your name on the list myself.” Thomas stared at Artemis. “In this charming yet small walled city, how could an invitation go astray? An invitation that came from the very office in which you are employed?”

      “Well, if you must know—” Artemis’s face grew red. “I do have the invitation in my desk.” He stood and straightened his coat, then marched across the tabby floor and into the next room, his bedchamber. In a matter of seconds, he returned, waving the missive in the air. “A man cannot even surprise his wife.”

      Dinah pursed her lips and stared down at her tea to keep from looking at anyone else. Artemis would say anything to keep out of trouble with Thomas, as evidenced by his ignoring the captain’s earlier scolding. Thoughts of that morning’s sermon came to mind, and shame pinched her conscience. She truly must stop laughing