Wicked Captain, Wayward Wife. Sarah Mallory

wear them.’

      Nick stood by the fireplace in the little parlour and looked down at the flames leaping merrily in the hearth. One of the logs had fallen forward; he resisted the temptation to push it back into place with his toe. Richard had worked hard to coax him into his dark blue frock-coat and the knee breeches that were the required mode of evening dress for a formal dinner and he knew his trusty servant would think his efforts wasted if he was to end up with wood ash on his soft leather shoes or, even worse, spattered on his white silk stockings. Instead he picked up the tongs and rearranged the logs until the flames were licking hungrily around them. He straightened as the door opened and Miss Shawcross entered. After their encounter on the drive he thought he had himself well under control, but it was an effort to prevent his jaw from dropping as he looked at her. She was a vision in cobalt blue and silver lace, her glorious hair piled on her head and one glossy black curl falling on to her shoulder. Nick smiled to himself; he had come to Makerham determined to court Evelina Shawcross, even if she had been hunchbacked and with a squint. This glorious creature was like a gift from the gods. She aroused in him all that was good—and bad! There was a troubled look on her face as she came into the room and he said hurriedly,

      ‘I understood this is where you meet before dinner…’

      ‘You are perfectly correct, sir. I am only sorry that there was no one here to greet you.’

      He smiled.

      ‘You are here now, that is all that matters.’ He walked forwards to give her his arm. The sapphires around her neck twinkled, enhancing the beauty of that slender column. He longed to put up a hand and touch the creamy skin, but she was like a wild animal, tense and ready for flight. He must go carefully.

      ‘Miss Shawcross, you are not happy with me here.’

      ‘Oh—no, I—’

      Her hand fluttered on his arm and he covered her fingers with his own. She was trembling.

      ‘Please,’ he murmured, ‘while we are alone let me say this. If you would prefer me to leave, I will make my excuses to Sir Benjamin—’

      She stopped, her eyes downcast, the long lashes black against her pale cheeks. Nick watched the play of emotion on her countenance; saw the resolute set of her mouth.

      ‘You are my grandfather’s guest, sir. It is his will that you should stay, and to me his will is paramount.’

      ‘But I shall be guided by your wishes, lady. Tell me what you want me to do.’ He continued softly, ‘We made a wretched beginning. Forgive me for that, Miss Shawcross, and allow me to show you that I can be a gentleman.’

      He saw the delicate blush tinge her cheeks, read the uncertainty in her eyes when she looked at him, then his gentleness was rewarded with a shy smile.

      ‘Very well, Captain Wylder, I am ready to be persuaded.’

      There was a twinkle in those soft brown eyes, a hint of mischief. The temptation to steal another kiss was very strong, but he resisted. That would not be the action of a gentleman! Instead he escorted her to a sofa. He intended to sit down beside her, but as she sank down she spread out her blue skirts, completely covering the seat. With a wry grin he moved to a chair on the opposite side of the fireplace. It would be slow work to win her round, but he found himself warming to the challenge.

      Evelina was aware of an irrational disappointment. She had been convinced that he was going to kiss her again, and her heart leapt into her throat at the thought of it. The man had about him an air of danger, a delicious sense of the unknown that set her pulse racing. But now he was determined to be the gentleman. She was glad of it, of course. She flounced down upon the sofa, her silken petticoats billowing around her.

      ‘Your grandfather explained to me that you and he live here alone,’ remarked the captain, lowering his long frame into a chair. ‘He told me your parents died when you were a child. I am very sorry.’

      ‘Thank you, but you do not need to pity me; it was more than ten years ago. My parents liked to travel a great deal and I was left at home with Grandpapa, so I never knew them that well; I think they were a very restless couple.’ His sympathetic silence encouraged her to say more. ‘It was a fever; they were on the Continent when they were struck down.’ She paused briefly then forced a smile. ‘But I am very happy living here with Grandpapa, I want for nothing.’

      ‘But you are very secluded here; do you not find it a little…lonely?’

      ‘Grandpapa is companion enough for me,’ she responded quickly. ‘I have no wish for female company—and I am beyond the age of needing a chaperon.’

      The corners of his mouth lifted fractionally. ‘Remembering our first encounter, I beg to disagree with you on that last point, Miss Shawcross.’

      Eve blushed hotly. She was relieved that her grandfather’s entrance created a timely diversion.

      Sir Benjamin came in, leaning heavily on his stick and declaring that they should go directly into the dining room.

      ‘If I sit down here I shan’t be able to get up again,’ he explained with a chuckle. ‘No, no, my dear, I do not need your arm; let Wylder escort you.’

      They processed slowly to the dining room, where Eve found herself sitting opposite Nick Wylder.

      ‘I told Green to rearrange the table,’ said Sir Benjamin, correctly interpreting her look of surprise. ‘Silly for you to be sitting at the far end and Wylder here, halfway between the two of us. Much better to have you near me, where I can see you both. Just a snug little dinner, Wylder,’ he continued. ‘We do not stand upon any ceremony here. It’s plain cooked fare, but you won’t find better in the county, and you have Evelina to thank for it.’

      ‘Grandpapa!’ She shook her head at him.

      ‘No need for this modesty, miss! It is only right that our guest knows what a treasure you are. She has been mistress here since she finished her schooling.’ Sir Benjamin laughed. ‘Just seventeen years old, she was then, Wylder. I wanted her to go off and stay with her young friends, to enjoy herself, but she would have none of it. She insisted upon coming home to live with me. Not that she needed to, for we have a very capable housekeeper in Mrs Harding, but Evelina was determined that she would look after me. And she has done so, magnificently.’

      ‘I do not doubt it,’ returned Captain Wylder. ‘And how many years has that been, sir?’

      ‘Seven,’ responded Sir Benjamin instantly.

      While her grandfather turned his attention to his plate, Eve glared across the table at Nick Wylder. He met her look with a glinting smile.

      ‘Four-and-twenty,’ he murmured. ‘Far too old for a chaperon.’

      ‘Positively on the shelf!’ she retorted. Eve signalled to the footman to refill the glasses. ‘So, Captain, you were at Tunbridge Wells. Were you taking the waters?’ She added sweetly, ‘A touch of gout, perhaps?’

       His eyes acknowledged the hit, but he said merely, ‘No, I was there on business.’

      ‘Oh? And is your business now concluded, that you have time for a prolonged stay here at Makerham?’

      Again that wicked glint flashed in his deep blue eyes. ‘I hope to conclude my business while I am here.’

      ‘And just what is your business, sir?’ Eve picked up her wine glass.

      ‘Marriage.’

      She choked.

      ‘Oh dear, dear,’ muttered Sir Benjamin. He bent a reproving look upon his guest. ‘I had not planned to broach this delicate subject for a day or so, sir.’

      ‘Then I apologise, Sir Benjamin, but given your granddaughter’s advanced years I did not wish to waste time.’

      Evelina, still recovering from her choking fit, could only gasp. Sir Benjamin’s mouth fell open, then his face creased into a smile.

      ‘Ah,