‘Yes, of course.’ Clemence watched them go out, then heard the lieutenant talking to Eliza in the kitchen. She tried to think of all the things she would need for two months at sea, heading into a cooler climate. It would still be summer in England, late August perhaps, when they landed, but she had heard too many of her father’s tales of English summers to place any confidence in being able to manage with light lawns and fine silks until she could replenish her wardrobe.

And where would the Ravenhursts be? she wondered. In England, so she understood, no one of fashion would remain in London during the summer. What would summer fashions in England be like? Would Nathan like her in a modish gown, perhaps following the latest French trend? Would he visit her, perhaps strolling beside some landscaped lake in a verdant English park, while the breeze blew cool and the flowers bloomed on the banks?

‘Shall we make a list, Miss Clemence?’

‘Oh, Eliza, you made me jump.’ And just in time, too. Of course he will not visit, he would not expect the exalted Ravenhursts to invite him. But he says he knows Cousin Gareth…‘I was wondering what on earth we will need, because it will be perhaps two months at sea and then English weather. You’ll need warmer things, too, and clothes for wet weather.’

Eliza was bustling around, finding ink and paper, looking remarkably cheerful for someone about to be uprooted and sent across the oceans at about two days’ notice. ‘Are you sure you don’t mind coming with me?’

The maid smiled. ‘Oh, no, Miss Clemence. I never thought I’d get such a chance. What an adventure!’

When she and Lieutenant Conroy finally left, the house seemed eerily quiet save for the rumbling snores of One-Eye stretched in unaccustomed comfort on the hearth rug. The men had gone off, apparently without any fear that the Naismiths might find her. And of course, they were quite right and she was being foolish. She took up a penknife and began to sharpen her nib, telling herself firmly that daydreams about Nathan were equally foolish.

The sound of footsteps in the hallway had her on her feet, the little knife clenched in her hand as the door opened. ‘Street!’ The cook looked abashed.

‘Sorry, Miss Clemence, I just came in to see if you was all right.’

‘I…I’m fine, thank you. I didn’t realise you were here, that’s all.’

‘Wondering if you can trust me, miss?’ He cocked an eyebrow at her, more like his old self despite the absence of his bloodstained apron and villainous meat cleaver. ‘I’m Mr Stanier’s man now. Saved my neck, he did. And you’re his lady.’ He grinned and it was as if she was back in the galley again. ‘Never thought young Clem would scrub up so well, miss, begging your pardon.’

‘Thank you, Street. But I’m not Captain Stanier’s lady, you know.’

‘What? Won’t he marry you? That’s bad, that is. He ought to—’

‘No, indeed, Street.’ The big man looked ready to march off and lecture Nathan on his responsibilities. ‘There’s absolutely no need for him to and I’m going to my relatives in England and they’ll look after me.’

‘If you say so, miss. I still think…’ In the face of her complete lack of response his voice trailed off. He looked at the hound, feet twitching as it chased rabbits in its sleep. ‘What you going to do with that when we sail, miss?’

‘He’s coming, too,’ Clemence said firmly, wondering how hard it would be to convince Captain Melville to house a large, elderly and, it had to be admitted, smelly hound in his smart frigate.

The unfortunate Lieutenant Conroy escorted Eliza round every lady’s emporium in Kingston in an effort to spread her purchases and not cause gossip. Then, when he finally delivered her and a carriage-load of parcels back to the house, he found himself conscripted along with Street to wash One-Eye.

‘Street and I have tried,’ Clemence explained. ‘But it needs another man to get him into the hip bath.’

‘I can see that, ma’am,’ he said, rolling up his sleeves as One-Eye curled back a lip from the opposite side of the yard.

‘If I hold his collar, he won’t bite, but even Street couldn’t lift him when he struggled.’ She pushed the hair off her damp forehead while Eliza, clucking, went for another bucket of hot water, the tussle so far having emptied the bath.

‘Right,’ Conroy announced, advancing on the hound. ‘I’ve fought pirates and lived, I can do this.’

Twenty minutes later the four humans were soaked and faintly hysterical with laughter while One-Eye, a paler shade of brown than Clemence could ever recall seeing him, was sulking in the scullery.

‘Oh, dear, look at you, Lieutenant!’ Clemence handed him a towel while Eliza and Street carried the bath back inside. ‘And you haven’t got a clean shirt with you. Never mind, we’ll sit here in the sunshine and dry off.’

‘Miss Ravenhurst.’

There was no reason why she should feel guilty to be discovered, flushed and smiling, sitting next to a good-looking young man in a sopping wet shirt that clung in a most becoming manner to his torso. Indeed, there was nothing in Nathan’s tone or expression to make her feel so. But it did.

It appeared to work powerfully on Conroy, too, who was on his feet, reaching for his coat, despite the state of his shirt.

‘Sir! Bathing the dog, sir.’

‘Indeed? That required both of you to get in the bath with it?’

Clemence glared, embarrassed, cross with herself for being so, and with Nathan for making her feel that way. ‘Yes. Actually, it required four of us to get completely soaked, but at least I will not be taking a dirty dog on to Captain Melville’s frigate.’

‘Or at all, I imagine.’

Tags: Louise Allen Historical
Source: readsnovelonline.net