Wicked Captain, Wayward Wife. Sarah Mallory

your eye, Miss Shawcross. You would laugh, if you were not determined to put me in my place! Am I forgiven, ma’am?’

      She turned away that he would not see her smile. ‘That depends upon your future conduct Mr…Wylder. Am I to understand that you have come to see my grandfather?’

      ‘I have indeed, ma’am, if he is well enough to receive me. I sent my man over this morning to advise you of my arrival.’

      She inclined her head. ‘I have not seen Grandpapa since we broke our fast together, so I know nothing of your message. However, that does not mean you are unwelcome. Pray come in, sir, and I will ascertain if he can see you.’

      She left the visitor in the great hall with its walls lined with armour. Shields, swords and halberds battled for place between the long windows, a reminder of the turbulent period when the hall was built. As she ran up the stairs she glanced back at him. He was standing before the huge fireplace, studying the crest carved into the overmantel. His head was thrown back and she was treated to an excellent view of his profile with its straight nose and strong jaw-line. Powerful. Confident. She thought how well he would fit into those unsettled times.

      As soon as she was out of sight at the top of the stairs she stopped and leaned against the wall. Her heart was thudding uncomfortably in her chest. So it had happened; her grandfather had always promised her that one day he would bring home a husband for her. He had told her to trust him to find a suitable gentleman, one who would look after her as he had always done. One who would make her happy. She pressed her hands to her cheeks. She had expected Grandfather to bring home someone like Squire Amos from Makerham village, someone solid and respectable. There was no doubt that the gentleman now standing in the great hall was solid—when he had crushed her to him he had felt very solid indeed—but she doubted very much that he was respectable. Eve was aware that she had led a very sheltered life, but she knew that respectable gentlemen did not kiss young ladies before they had even been introduced! And respectable young ladies did not stay to exchange banter with such scoundrels. Eve wondered why she had not run away when the man released her. Somewhat to her surprise she realised that he had not frightened her. She had been shocked, yes, and outraged, but never afraid. She took a deep breath and smoothed her hands down over her gown. If only it was as easy to smooth her disordered nerves. If Grandpapa discovered the cause of her agitation he would be alarmed; he might even send his visitor away. With a little jolt of surprise she realised that she really did not want that to happen.

      Eve found her grandfather in the morning room. His winged chair had been moved to the window and he was sitting now with a blanket across his knees, gazing out over the park.

      ‘Grandpapa?’

      Sir Benjamin Shawcross had been a good-looking man in his youth, but ill health had aged him prematurely and although he was not much more than sixty, his skin had grown sallow and the flesh hung loosely on his large frame.

      However, despite the great effort it cost him every morning, he insisted that his valet, Rooney, should help him out of bed and dress him in his velvet coat and fresh linen. His sparse grey hair was hidden by a curly wig in the old style and there was always a twinkle in his faded blue eyes. It was in evidence now as he looked at his granddaughter.

      ‘Eve, my dear, come in. Rooney has made me comfortable here, you see, where I can look out of the window. I have a visitor, you know.’

      ‘Yes, sir, I do know.’ Eve put down her basket and slipped across the room to his side.

      As she bent to drop a kiss on his forehead she glanced out of the window. The room looked out over the front drive, but thankfully any view of the little stone bridge was blocked by the bulk of the Gate House tower. Her grandfather would not have seen her first encounter with his guest. She dropped down to sit on the footstool beside his chair and gathered his gnarled old hands between her own. ‘Mr Wylder is even now in the hall, Grandpapa.’

      ‘Captain, my love; he is Captain Wylder. He sailed with Admiral Howe against the French and acquitted himself well, by all accounts.’

      ‘That may be so, sir, but before he is brought up I want you to tell me just why he is here.’

      ‘A pretty thing, child, if I must answer to you for inviting a guest to my own house!’

      Eve was not deceived by his blustering tone. She saw the consternation in his faded eyes, but she was not to be swayed from her course. ‘Please, Grandfather, tell me.’

      ‘I have known the family for years. Nick Wylder is the younger brother of the Earl of Darrington. Of course we are not well acquainted, for he is so much younger than I am and he has spent most of his time at sea. He resigned with Howe in ’78, you know. Neither of them thought very much of the government’s handling of the American War but before they could return to England they were caught up in the defence of Rhode Island. Clever bit o’ work, that.’ Sir Benjamin chuckled. ‘Outwitted the French all right and tight, and young Nicholas in the thick of it. Commended for his bravery, mentioned in the newspapers. You may remember it—’

      ‘That was five years ago, Grandpapa,’ Eve interrupted him quietly but firmly. ‘And I do not remember you ever drawing my attention to a Captain Wylder.’

      ‘No, well, perhaps not. In fact I did not recall much about it myself, until young Nicholas sought me out at Tunbridge Wells last month. It was Percy Anderton told me his history. Percy lost his son in the action, you see, and Captain Wylder came to see him as soon as he returned to England, to pay his respects. Percy was very impressed. Captain Wylder has friends in the government, too it appears—young Pitt and Lord North—’

      ‘But you said Captain Wylder sought you out, Grandpapa,’ Eve persisted, frowning. ‘Why should he do that?’

      ‘Why should he not? Old family friend, after all.’

      ‘Yes, but why should he wait until now to look you up?’

      ‘I have no idea, but I am very glad he did. A fine young man, Eve, and very attentive to me. I invited him to call upon us…’

      ‘But you have not said a word about him to me, Grandpapa.’

      Sir Benjamin stirred uncomfortably in his chair. ‘No, well, the time did not seem propitious, and after all, I did not know if he would really come.’

      ‘Have you brought him here as a husband for me?’ she asked in her direct way.

      ‘He did mention to me that he was looking for a wife, and…’

      ‘And you want me to take a husband.’

      ‘Only if you are inclined to do so, Evelina.’

      ‘I have told you, Grandfather, I have no wish for a husband yet.’

      ‘But you will need someone to look after you when I am gone.’

      ‘Grandpapa!’

      ‘Do not frown at me, Eve. We both know that I am failing. Doctor Scott has warned us that my heart is very weak now; the end cannot be far away—’

      ‘You must not say such things,’ she said fiercely.

      ‘Ignoring the inevitable will not prevent it, my love. If Nick Wylder wants to wed you I recommend you to accept him. I shall not insist, of course, but I would ask that you consider the matter very carefully.’ He squeezed her fingers and released them. ‘Now, we must not keep our guest waiting any longer. Have Captain Wylder fetched up, Evelina.’

      ‘But, sir—’

      He waved his hand impatiently. ‘Would you have me thought uncivil, gel? Tell Green to show him up.’

      The order was given, and Eve went back to stand beside her grandfather. He reached for her hand.

      ‘Trust me on this, love; I am thinking only of you. Ah…’ He turned towards the door as the butler announced his visitor. ‘My dear sir, you are very welcome! Forgive me for not getting up to meet you, but my legs are very weak today. The baths at Tunbridge did not help me overmuch on this occasion.’