Энни Бэрроуз – The Captain Claims His Lady (страница 8)

‘Ah. Oh. Um.’ Yes. Very witty. That would really impress him. A wave of embarrassment flooded her, making her cheeks flame.

‘It’s deuced hot in here, isn’t it?’ he said. Oh, how kind of him to come up with a valid reason for her to blush!

‘Don’t know why they need to have a fire blazing,’ he said, ‘with all the crowds jostling to get in.’

‘Grandfather always takes a seat as near to the fire as he can, while I go to fetch his water,’ she managed to say, though her tongue felt a bit too big for her mouth.

‘Rheumaticky, is he?’

Which reminded her, she had meant to quiz him about his own ailments. With the twin aim of getting him to do most of the talking, while toppling him from his pedestal.

‘It’s his broken bones. He had a few injuries during his years of active service. And he claims draughts set them off. Is that why you are here? Were you injured? I mean, that is, you are in the navy, are you not?’

‘I did have my fair share of injuries,’ he replied, as the queue shuffled forward. And fell silent.

‘And is that why you have come to drink the waters?’

The queue shuffled forward again before he had made any reply. Which made her fear he had picked up some nasty disease which he couldn’t mention in female company.

Well! That would make her think less well of him. Sailors were notorious for seeking...comfort...in whichever port they happened to be. She ought not to know about it, but—

‘It is a bit complicated,’ he finally said. ‘I had yellow jack when I was in the tropics, which left me...not in prime twig, shall we say,’ he finished saying on a huff of a laugh. ‘And then I was taken prisoner by the French.’ He plucked at the front of his jacket, making her aware that it hung a bit loose on his big frame. ‘I lost so much weight while enjoying their hospitality that when I finally came back to England my friends said I resembled a scarecrow.’

They reached the head of the queue. The footman handed them each a cup. They stepped aside.

‘I say, Miss Hutton, I don’t suppose you would care to knock this out of my hand again this morning?’

‘It won’t do you any good if you don’t drink it.’

‘I don’t think it will do me any good if I do,’ he said glumly. ‘To be honest, I think I will gain more benefit from sticking to my daily swim in the stuff.’

He swam? Oh, how she wished that Grandfather would grant her permission to do the same. But she wasn’t ill. And so there was no need for him to waste his blunt on any such treatment for her.

And then a horrid thought assailed her. It sounded as though he was explaining why she would not be seeing him again.

‘Are you telling me you will not be attending the Pump Room again?’

‘What? No. It is just...’ He bent his head, as though studying the cup he held in his hand. Then, with one swift movement, he raised it to his mouth and tossed back the entire contents in one go.

Then shuddered. ‘To think people drink this willingly.’ He shook his head.

‘But...you just did.’

‘No. That...’ he grimaced ‘...was my punishment.’

‘For what?’

He turned away from her for a moment, presumably to dispose of his cup. ‘My sins,’ he said, turning back to her, ‘are too numerous to mention. Let us instead talk of you.’

‘Me?’ Her voice came out in a squeak.

‘Yes. I want to know everything,’ he said in a determined voice, ‘there is to know about you.’

‘Well that won’t take very long. I am really very boring.’

‘Not to me, you aren’t. Have you any idea what it was like, to dance with a partner who...matched? Most women make me feel big and lumbering and awkward. But not you.’

‘Oh.’ She felt another blush coming on. And, before she could stop her unruly tongue, she heard herself admitting, ‘It was the same for me, too. That is, most men make me feel big and lumbering and awkward.’

‘Can you wonder, then, that I want to get to know you better?’

‘I... I...’

Her feet, by this time, had carried her back to her grandfather without her even taking note of where she was going. And since he was by her side, he’d fetched up there, too.

‘Who’s this? Eh?’ Grandfather was glaring up at them from under lowered brows.

‘Captain Bretherton,’ said Captain Bretherton, bowing.

‘And just what do you think you’re doing with my granddaughter? Eh? Young jackanapes.’

‘I was thanking her for taking pity on me last night and dancing with me.’

‘Taking pity on you? That’s a likely story.’

She wasn’t sure if she imagined it, but Captain Bretherton seemed to stiffen. His voice was certainly a bit cool when he said, ‘Miss Hutton, now that I have restored you to your grandfather, I shall bid you good day.’

Her spirits plunged as he disappeared into the throng. That was probably the last she’d see of him. He might say he wanted to get to know her better, but no man, at least none with any pride, would stand for being addressed as a jackanapes.

‘Didn’t take long to get him to take to his heels, did it?’ Grandfather was glaring in the direction of Captain Bretherton’s retreat. ‘Though I warned you about fellows of his stamp, yesterday. What do you mean by dancing with him, eh?’

‘Well, he asked. And I didn’t have any reason to refuse...’

‘That’s the trouble with places like this. Full of strangers. Anybody can pass themselves off as marquesses or dukes...’

She took a breath to object. Grandfather’s eyebrows lowered even further. ‘Or call themselves captains,’ he persisted. ‘Ten to one he never got nearer a regiment than walking past a parade in Hyde Park.’

‘Well, no, but then he is in the navy. He...’

‘Playing on your susceptibilities is he, because of Sam?’

Lizzie flinched. Firstly, the chances Captain Bretherton knew she’d even had a brother, let alone one who served in the navy, were so remote as to be laughable. And secondly, why would he play on her susceptibilities?

‘Just let him know you don’t have a dowry, next time he comes sniffing round. Then we’ll see what his motives really are.’ He rapped on the floor with his cane. Though he might as well have struck her with it again.

‘Very well, Grandfather,’ she said, with as much meekness in her voice as she could muster. ‘Next time I see him, the first thing I shall do is tell him I am penniless.’

She hadn’t thought it was possible for his eyebrows to get any lower, but they did. And he thrust out his jaw, as though he was trying to decide whether she was being sincere. But, after a moment or two, he leaned back in his chair, with a ‘hmmph’, and then turned his shoulder to carry on the conversation in which he’d been engaged before.

Lizzie took up her station behind his chair, her chin up, her gaze fixed straight ahead. She wasn’t trembling, although the entire episode would have humiliated any girl who hadn’t grown inured to such scenes over the years. She told herself that Grandfather probably meant well. That he was trying to protect her, in his own, inimitable fashion. That Bath was the kind of place that did attract men on the lookout for gullible heiresses, or so Lady Buntingford had told her. And that it didn’t matter what they looked like. A practised seducer would make his intended victim feel as though there was something special about her. Something that only he, out of the whole world, could appreciate. Make her believe he truly loved her. So that he could get his hands on her money.

So, the sooner she informed Captain Bretherton that she had none, the sooner she would know whether his interest in her was genuine.

Or not.

Chapter Six

He strode from the Pump Room, his fists clenched. No wonder Lady Rawcliffe had said Miss Hutton would jump at the chance to escape her grandfather, if that was an example of the way he treated her. The old man should have taken an interest in the stranger who’d escorted her back to his side, not driven him away. After insulting her, in front of all the other Bath quizzes, by insinuating that no man could possibly have asked her to dance for any reason except from pity.

He’d had to walk away before retaliating in kind. Which wouldn’t do his prospects any good. You couldn’t get into a stand-up row with a man, then ask for permission to court his granddaughter. Or a sit-down row, anyway, since the old man hadn’t stirred from his chair.

He whipped off his hat and ran his fingers through his hair. Since today was Tuesday, he wasn’t going to be able to see Miss Hutton tonight and attempt to offer her any comfort. Because it would be cards in the Assembly Rooms. Still, since he’d already told her his aversion for games of chance, she wouldn’t expect to see him. She wouldn’t think her grandfather had scared him off.

Would she?

* * *

It felt as if a month went past, rather than just a day and a half, before he was entering the Assembly Rooms again. For on his return from his daily swim, he’d found a muscular young man waiting for him outside the door of his hotel room, bearing a message from Rawcliffe and Becconsall. They’d decided he needed a bodyguard, apparently, and had sent Dawkins to perform that duty, under cover of being his valet. It had taken some time for them to discuss strategy. By the time they’d reached an understanding it had been too late to attend the Pump Room. So he was chafing at the bit by the time he entered the room where he hoped he might find her attending the Wednesday night concert.