Wicked Captain, Wayward Wife. Sarah Mallory

He had asked her to trust him and she did. He put out his hand, opened his mouth to call out to her, but something held him back. The moment was lost; the door had closed behind her.

      ‘Just as well,’ he told himself. ‘The less she knows of this affair, the better.’

      

      A little over ten minutes later, Eve accompanied Nick out of the house, trying not to cling too tightly to his arm.

      ‘Will you be able to write to me, sir?’ She tried to keep her voice light.

      ‘I shall try, but it may not be possible if I am very busy’ He lifted her hand to his lips. ‘Be strong for me, my love, until I return.’

      Looking up into his laughing face, she remembered her first impression of him; an adventurer, a man who courted danger. Her fingers suddenly clenched on his hand. ‘You will be careful?’

      He gave a merry laugh. ‘Sweetheart I am always careful!’ With a squeeze of her fingers he turned away and mounted nimbly upon his black horse.

      ‘Granby will be following me with the carriage in an hour or so.’ He grinned down at her, his eyes glinting. ‘I do not want to hear that you have gone into a decline, madam.’

      She dragged up a smile. ‘I am not such a poor creature, sir. I shall keep myself busy until your return.’ His warm look turned her heart over.

      ‘Good girl. Come up, Admiral!’ He raised his whip in a salute as he turned and galloped away down the drive.

      Eve watched from the little bridge until Nick was out of sight, then with a sigh she went back into the house. There was an aching void in her chest and she had a desperate desire to burst into tears. She glanced at the clock in the great hall; it was still very early. She had been married for less than twenty-four hours and already her husband had given her both more pleasure, and more pain, than she had ever known before.

      

      When Eve joined Sir Benjamin in the morning room some time later, he held out his hand to her. ‘Rooney told me Nick has been called away, my love. That is a great pity. But it means I have you to myself again.’

      She smiled as she grasped his outstretched fingers. ‘Indeed you do, Grandpapa.’

      ‘And are you happy with the husband I have found for you, my love?’

      She smiled down at him. ‘Can you doubt it, sir?’

      ‘No, love. You have been glowing with happiness these past few weeks.’ Sir Benjamin sighed. ‘But we shall miss him. He is a very lively fellow, Nick Wylder—Wyldfire, they called him, when he was at sea.’ He chuckled. ‘He certainly sets the house alight with his energy! And he has entertained us royally, has he not, my dear?’

      ‘Yes, sir, and while he is gone we must entertain each other,’ said Eve bracingly. ‘It is a beautiful day, Grandpapa, will you not take a stroll with me through the garden? I should like you to see the flowerbeds; the roses are particularly fragrant just now. Rooney will give you his arm…’

      ‘I think not, my love. My legs do not feel so very strong today.’

      ‘Then let me bring the backgammon board into the morning room. I know Nick’s skill is superior to mine, but I can acquit myself creditably, I think.’

      Sir Benjamin patted her hand. ‘Not just now, Evelina. I am very tired. I think I should like to rest here quietly in the sunshine for a little while.’

      ‘Of course, Grandpapa.’ She bent to kiss his cheek. ‘There is plenty for me to do. I fear I have neglected my household duties recently.’

      Poor Grandpapa, she thought as she went out. He will miss Nick almost as much as I do.

      Evelina kept herself busy. She threw herself back into the life of Makerham, for she was still its mistress, and would remain so until Nick came back and carried her away to run his own houses in the north. During the long, lonely nights in the big tester bed she stifled her longings with thoughts of her new life so far from the only home she had ever known. She would be sad to leave Grandpapa, of course, but the thought of moving away did not frighten her: with Nick at her side she knew she need not fear anything.

      A week had gone by and there was no letter from Nick, only a hastily scribbled note, telling her that if she had need of him she could leave word at the Ship in Hastings. Eve was philosophical about this; her grandfather had been a very poor correspondent when she had been at school, sometimes a month would pass without a letter and then when it came it would be little more than a few lines dashed off in haste. She folded Nick’s note and placed it under her pillow; she would not worry. Besides, she had a much more pressing concern. Sir Benjamin’s health was failing rapidly. She sent for the doctor, and came hurrying downstairs to meet him as soon as he arrived.

      ‘Thank you for coming so promptly, Dr Scott.’

      ‘It is no trouble at all, Miss Eve—I mean, Mrs Wylder,’ responded the doctor, a twinkle in his kind eyes. ‘Now tell me, what is the matter with my patient? Is it his legs again?’

      Eve nodded. ‘He is complaining of pains in his chest, too. Since the wedding he has not been out of the house,’ she said as she escorted him up to her grandfather’s room. ‘I thought at first he was a little tired from all the celebrations, but this past week he has kept to his bed. And he is eating so little.’