Page 15 of The Scandal of the Deceived Duchess
Chapter 8
Dinner for Two
Jonathan paced up and down in his so-called ‘great cabin’ that spanned the entire width of the stern of the ship. In the meantime, the steward prepared the table for dinner. He had ordered that the finest silverware be placed on the table. All of it was booty from the vessels he had taken over the course of the war. In other words, Amelia would be dining with English ornaments and tableware all around her.
He had his best dress uniform on his person. Usually, he would abstain from such presentation, but somehow, he believed that Amelia might prefer a man who looked the part. He had taken his cue from the captured British captain, who no matter the harshness of the melee during the fight or his predicament as a captive, always looked as if he’d just partaken in a leisurely sail into the Thames Estuary on a fine day.
It still rankled him that when Amelia had spoken during supper the past days that her attentions were almost always directed at the English officer. She accorded him the respect and the deference he so craved. Jonathan didn’t understand why. Was he not the one who had defeated Captain Wimple in open combat? Was he not the manlier of the two?
He pressed his lips together. Sometimes, being a gentleman and an officer was so tedious. Were he a lesser man, he would have kept the captured English officers confined to the lower decks for the duration of the voyage home. Instead, Jonathan had asked for their promise as gentlemen that they would not attempt escape, and after receiving it, he had accorded Captain Wimple and his officers freedom of the ship. Consequently, they had attended supper every evening since the capture of their vessel.
Not this night – Captain Wimple had been offered symbolic command of theTritonunder the watchful supervision of some of Jonathan’s trusted men. A gentleman such as he would not abuse his position, especially after giving his word as a gentleman that he would not attempt anything to facilitate his escape or the endangerment of theTriton.
Jonathan relished the opportunity to show Amelia that he was just as good a conversationalist as Captain Wimple, if not better. She would have to offer him some attention without the gallant British naval officer’s presence as a distraction. He winced when he remembered how she had brushed off his comments the previous night and adroitly deflected his entreaty on a political matter toward the Englishman with the words, “Captain Wimple, I would so much rather hear your opinion on the matter.”
The way Amelia had said it was icy enough to freeze over a lake. Worst of all, her gaze had never met his. It was as if she considered him an irritating presence that had to be endured under sufferance.
Jonathan took a brief moment to inspect himself. His black boots were shiny. His blue frock coat was neatly pressed and without holes. His cabin steward had starched his white shirt and the buttons on his tunic shone seductively. After running his hands over his white breeches, he decided that it was the best he could do. Amelia would have to take him or leave him.
He took a moment to look out of the window at the back of the ship. The sea frothed into a foamy white channel in the wake of theTriton’s passage. He tried to find solace in this simple sight, but he was unsuccessful. Every time he tried to just focus on the sea, her face would miraculously appear, as if the God Poseidon was teasing him with visions of things he could not have.
There was a knock on the door to the cabin. Jonathan tensed.Was it time already?He slowly turned to face the door. “COME,” he barked.
It creaked open. To Jonathan, it seemed to last forever until the door was fully ajar. “Good evening, Captain,” said Amelia, floating into the cabin. She looked around. “Are we to dine alone this evening?”
He gulped. “Good evening, Amelia…ma’am,” he mumbled.
He had not thought of that.Dining alone-I am going to kill you, Jake.Captain Wimple and his officers may not have been invited, but that did not mean that his trusty first lieutenant, Jake, and Anna were not. Again, he was nervous to be alone with her. He suddenly did not know what to say. He never spoke much, but he was able to hold his own in a conversation – that skill had left him. Amelia’s next words roused him out of his uneasy contemplations.
“Would you be so kind as to offer me a drink, Captain?”
His vision focused. She looked beautiful. Amelia was dressed in the newest fashion, he decided. He thought so because he had never seen anything like her attire on the women that frequented the town of Richmond that was close to his home. Jonathan often thought of her as an angel even though her treatment of him more resembled the comportment of a herald from the devil. Tonight, she was that angel.
The dress was very light and loose. It was white in color and boasted shockingly bare arms. The garment rose sheer from her ankles to just below the bodice, where there was a strongly emphasized thin hem that wrapped around her slender physique. The tie-around was in pink, making her look almost virginal.
A long rectangular wrap in plain pink with a decorated border hung across her shoulders, keeping her warm against the sea breeze. She was breathtaking. Jonathan was lost for words. He did not know where to look. His eyes roved over her person from her ankles up her legs, drinking in her, to his mind, perfect figure.
What captivated him the most were her bare arms. The color of her skin was more pure than the snow that fell in the winter around his estate. Her hands were dainty, almost fragile. By the time he reached her upper chest, he was short of breath – more bare skin for him to feast his eyes upon. His gaze danced up her perfectly shaped neck until he stopped – piercing green shook him out of this heavenly perusal.
“You were about to offer me a drink,” she said with a mischievous glint in those seductive eyes of hers that alternated between flashes of amusement and curiosity.
Could it be possible that she is attempting to be pleasant this evening?“Yes, quite…” Jonathan stumbled to the drinks cabinet that was secured in all of the right places in case of choppy seas. “Will sherry be all right?” he croaked.
“I always thought you pirates drank rum.” Amelia sneered at him when he turned to look at her with his eyebrows raised. “But a sherry would be lovely – thank you.”
She’s toying with me, the vixen. What kind of a woman is this?Jonathan quickly poured the drinks and returned to where she stood in the center of the great cabin. She thanked him sweetly when he handed her the glass.
Jonathan raised his glass in salute and slowly brought it to his lips.
“What, no toast? I would have expected some form of tribute from the captain of a ship as fine as this,” she said, her eyes twinkling.
“Yes…um…” Jonathan cleared his throat. He realized that he was so out of his depth. He had no idea of women and what they wanted to hear. Where, in contrast, Amelia seemed to know exactly what she was doing.
She behaved so differently to what he was used to. There had been no insults or a hasty retreat from his cabin the moment she realized they were alone together. Amelia actually entertained the prospect of having to speak to him. Well, that was what Jonathan thought at least.
“To victory,” he said somewhat lamely. Jonathan had the niggling feeling that Amelia, despite her young age, had a depth of experience when it came to men. At that moment, he could not have known just how wrong he was.
“Whose? Yours or ours?” The expression on Amelia’s face turned from playful to cautious.
