Page 38 of The Moonstone Major
Finally, he gave a curt nod. “More than is wise.” Now that he’d admitted it, he wanted to take a dive off the nearest cliff. “I can make up some excuse to leave, if this is what you now wish. After tomorrow’s excursion, I need never see Chloe again. I think it is best, although it might take some convincing on her part.”
Phoebe was staring at him with her mouth agape. “Are all men as stupid as you and my husband?”
Chapter Eight
Chloe’s heart wasin a flutter as she stood with Ella and Imogen in the courtyard of Westgate Hall shortly after the noon hour, all of them wearing their sturdiest walking boots and straw bonnets. Their gowns were plain and of durable muslin. They wore no adornments, no silk ribbons or lace that might snag or get ruined in the dank cave.
She watched Fionn and Mr. Hawke approach in the wagon, easily making out their forms. Fionn was especially easy to notice, for he was big and muscled, and radiated a manliness in his casual pose. He had one booted foot on the footboard and was leaning back in his seat, his arms outstretched and resting along the back boards of the driver’s bench while Mr. Hawke drove the wagon into the courtyard.
It had rained a little this morning, nothing more than a light sprinkle that passed quickly and showed few signs of ever having happened. The air held little dampness, nothing more than the familiar scent of the sea.
Ella and Imogen were hopping up and down and waving as the wagon drew up.
Their father had come outside to see his girls off and was the first to step forward to greet Fionn when he jumped down from the wagon. “Thank you again, Major Brennan. My little ducklings are thrilled beyond measure to explore the smuggler’s cave. Cook has packed a picnic luncheon for you all.” He motioned to the footman loading a large basket into the wagon. “Eat hearty, my darlings. Any pirate will tell you that smuggling is hard work.”
His daughters giggled and each hugged him tightly before scrambling onto the wagon.
Fionn chuckled. “Lady Chloe and I shall make proper knaves of them.”
He then turned to Chloe and assisted her into the wagon, placing his large, warm hands about her waist to give her the slight lift up. His touch shot tingles through her body, and she felt her cheeks heat.
He did not seem to notice, for he had already moved on to assist Phoebe’s maid onto the driver’s bench beside Mr. Hawke. Those two were to serve as chaperones for the outing. Fionn then hopped into the back of the wagon with her and the girls, settling his large frame beside her as she sat opposite the girls. “We are all in, Mr. Hawke, and ready for our adventure.”
The girls squealed in delight and turned to wave at their father, continuing to call out to him until the wagon clattered out of sight of Westgate Hall.
Imogen, with her typical sensitive nature, turned sad once she could no longer see her father.
“What is wrong, sweetling?” Chloe asked.
“I hope Mama is all right.”
Chloe reached over and gave her hand a little squeeze. “She will be. Do you recall just a few weeks ago when I was stuck in bed because of my sprained ankle?”
Imogen nodded.
“And look at me now, able to hop about better than a frog.”
Fionn cast her a soft smile.
Ella managed a small smile, too, but it quickly faded. “Papa would have come with us if he weren’t so worried about her.”
Chloe wished his daughters were not quite so perceptive. “You know how much he loves you girls and your mama. To see any of you under the weather is very hard on him. And doesn’t your mama always take excellent care of you? Is she not always by your side at the slightest worry? He feels he can do no less for her.”
Ella nodded. “He always calls hermy loveand gives her kisses when he thinks we are not looking.”
This was what Chloe so desperately wanted in a husband.
Her sisters had found this same thing with their husbands. Apparently, so had Imogen and Ella’s parents. How wonderful it must be to feel so swept away by one’s spouse, so breathless and intoxicated by their every smile. Of course, it would also plunge one to the depths of worry if the person you loved so dearly was ailing.
But was it not all worth it to accept the bad along with the extraordinary good?
She glanced at Fionn and was surprised to find him looking pensively at her. She cast him a hesitant smile.
He turned to the girls. “You know your mama wants you to have a good time. She will feel bad if you are so worried about her that you do not allow yourself to have any fun. So, no more frowns or sad faces. Today you are fierce pirates entering a smuggler’s cove to stash your booty in a cave. What is your pirate name to be? Remember, you are fierce marauders and afraid of nothing. Imogen, you go first. Is there a name you would like for yourself? Or shall I think one up for you?”
“You think one up,” Imogen said, a smile forming on her little bow lips.
“All right, let me think… Well, your Uncle Cormac calls you and Ella his ducklings, so this is what you shall be. Captain Dead-eye Duckling, feared plunderer of the Irish Sea.”
