He had noticed the man in London. In the few weeks he’d managed to come ashore they had attended some of the same society events. A popular fellow, he had a wide circle of friends who did very little with their time and wasted their funds on all sorts of gambling. Ellicott had danced with Sally often and an acquaintance—a woman who had not known their tangled history—had remarked that the pair was made for each other. Felix had trouble believing the overdressed popinjay sauntering toward them could possibly be accepted by a family of rough-and-tumble naval men.
When introduced, Ellicott exclaimed rudely, “Good God, I had heard you were dead.”
“Now where might that rumor have started?” He glanced at Sally for an answer, and she blushed. “Not yet, my lord, but the French are a determined lot, so who knows when my time on Earth will end.”
Sally laughed, a brittle false laugh he did not recognize or like. He looked her over again, noticing her elegance was as restrained as her laughter. She was entirely proper, and it hurt his eyes to see her gloriously curly hair had been tamed.
She only had eyes for Ellicott though as he stopped at her side. As if to prove her point that she had forgotten him, she claimed Ellicott’s arm too and drew him and Lady Duckworth away as if he were unworthy of standing in her presence.
Chastened by her indifference to a time that was still important to him, he turned his attention back to his commander. “Your message said it was urgent.”
“Later Hastings,” Templeton insisted, waving aside the matter as the duke had done earlier that day. His
eyes narrowed on his daughter. “Tomorrow is soon enough for what we have to talk about. Perhaps the day after.”
The duke cleared his throat and Templeton hurried off. “Now then, Captain, who do you not know?”
Chapter Six
Rutherford reacquainted Felix with those closest as if the genial host of a long-lost friend, but then a gong sounded and dinner was announced.
Lady Templeton drew close, her expression openly curious and transparently delighted to see him. “You are with me tonight, Captain.”
The duke raised a brow. “I trust you recall Lady Templeton, my daughter by marriage.”
“How could I forget?” He bowed deeply to Sally’s mother, a woman he had genuinely liked. Lady Templeton was nothing like her husband. She was warm and jolly and very quick with a laugh at no one’s expense. “A pleasure to see you again, my lady. You are as radiant as ever.”
“I see you have become even more handsome and incorrigible than ever before.” She smiled fondly, and he caught a glimpse of that former friendship in her expression. As she looked beyond him to the far side of the room where Sally and her friends had gathered, that spark dimmed. But with a toss of her head, she shook off whatever bothered her. “It is good to have you back onshore.”
“Thank you.” He held out his arm to the countess and escorted her in to dinner, saw her seated, and took his place at her side. Across the table was a woman who very much resembled Sally but must have been years younger. After a moment she smiled, and he realized it could only be Louisa Ford, his lieutenant’s twin sister, given the feeling of familiarity he experienced when she smiled. They had not been introduced as yet.
The countess touched his arm lightly, claiming his attention. “Have you seen my boys?”
He grinned, imagining the reaction of the three six-foot-and-more-tall giants on hearing themselves described as mere boys at the ages of thirty, three and twenty, and twenty respectively. “I would hardly call them boys, but my ship passed within shouting distance of Reckless Hope not two weeks ago. Maitland saluted and appeared in high spirits as we traded assignments. The ship looked to be in excellent condition.”
The countess heaved a relieved sigh. “And my poor Freddie?”
Freddie was the second son, the spare to the earldom of Templeton. “He is somewhat further afield, the Newberry being assigned to the southern oceans at present. I have not met with him or his ship in recent years.”
The countess nibbled her bottom lip and stared at her plate, not even looking up when a servant moved to place a napkin in her lap. She said not a word of thanks as the man moved on to attend to him in a similar fashion. The countess was miles away, no doubt worrying unnecessarily about her grown children as all mothers were prone to do.
“Laurence was well when I saw him Thursday last.”
“I am glad to know my baby is under your protection,” she said. “He is too gentle to be at war, but he could not be stopped.”
That so-called baby had dispatched dozens of French during his career, but Felix did not correct the countess at the dinner table. His tongue burned to break the silence though. “Newberry Park exceeds young Laurence’s description by a fair margin, my lady.”
“Thank you.” She sighed deeply and took a sip of her wine.
Felix noticed her animation at seeing him had left with the talk of her sons. Sally had hinted her mother was prone to fits of melancholy once, but he had thought it an idle exaggeration of a daughter frustrated by the confines of her life. However, judging by the countess’s current expression, he could easily believe Lady Templeton a troubled soul.
Uncertain of what to do about it, or if he should try to cheer her up, he glanced around at the other guests as the first course was served. What could he say to lift Lady Templeton out of her mopes?
The duke stared, a frown on his face as he watched his daughter-in-law fiddle with her wineglass. Templeton was engaged in conversation with Lady Ellicott and never noticed his wife’s low mood.
Sally was seated beside Ellicott, her suitor, and spoke only with him. Lady Duckworth was across the table and stared pointedly, clearly a hostile presence toward him. He noticed how few young men sat down to dinner that night. For a family of this size, the lack of men was telling of their profession. He turned his attention back to Sally’s mother. “It must be a difficult task to manage an estate of this size with the younger men away at war.”
The countess lifted her chin proudly. “We manage without them. My girls have shouldered the responsibilities well, and Newberry thrives.”