Page 23 of The Smuggler & the Society Bride

‘Miss Foxe, so good to see you! Though the Flying Gull racing through the sea is a pretty sight, ’tis nothing to the beauty awaiting me on land.’

‘Ah, so that’s why I’ve not seen—’ Flushing, Honoria caught herself before she sounded as moonsick as Tamsyn. ‘That is, nice to see you, too, Captain. I note the sea’s saltiness has not leached the sweetness from your tongue.’

He grinned, blast him, as if he’d seen through her reply all the eagerness she’d been trying to mask. And whatever possessed her to mention ‘tongue,’ which immediately prompted her naughty mind to wonder what he’d taste like when she kissed him?

If. If she kissed him. Honoria shook her head, trying to clear it. But that was ridiculous, for she was not going to kiss him. They were going to talk about schoolgirls and mittens and commerce.

She was not going to note how his vitality and force and sheer maleness seemed to fill up the small room, forcing out air and making it more difficult to breathe—while making each breath more intense. How lips that spoke such honeyed words hinted how much sweeter they’d be pressed against her own.

‘So school is well begun?’ he was asking, jolting her back to the present. She blinked rapidly, noting that his expression had softened, as if taking pity on her speechlessness.

Heavens, what was wrong with her? Back in a London ballroom, she would have laughed behind her fan to see some other maiden so flushed and tongue-tied before a handsome young gallant.

Please, not ‘tongue’ again.

Angrily calling her wits to order, she said, ‘The girls are making good progress on their letters and sums. Mrs Steavens has some of them already on the way to mastery of basic knitting patterns. It remains to be seen, of course, if any achieve the level of skill necessary to complete the complex designs we think more likely to be saleable. My aunt has agreed to write to some friends in London, asking their opinions of the possibility of marketing them there.’

The captain nodded. ‘I will be interested in hearing their replies. I know you expressed concern about whether fashionable ladies would wish to purchase plain woolen mittens. But I’ve been thinking that, even if the Ton are not interested, London is full of maids and shop girls and governesses who care as much about comfort as fashion, who must go about in wet and chilly weather. Girls who would be delighted to purchase such necessities at a fair price, if they were available.’

Though it was impossible to truly ignore it, Honoria blessed him for distracting her from the disturbing force of his presence by making her picture the appealing notion of Mrs Steavens, Laurie and Eva, receiving enough blunt for honest labour that Laurie could retire from her current occupation, without leaving the family always teetering on brink of destitution.

‘An excellent plan!’ she exclaimed. ‘Perhaps we could offer not just mittens, but scarves, caps, even reticules knit in matching patterns.’

He nodded, smiling at her enthusiasm. ‘You do have a knack for trade which, as I said before, I find admirable, though I suspect neither your family nor mine would share that opinion.’

She tried not to feel a glow, knowing he approved of her.

‘I’m going to go to London myself soon to see about the cost of transport and to find possible merchants to handle the goods. So, how is Eva doing with her knitting?’

‘I’m afraid she’s much more interested in learning her letters. Only look, see the glow about her when she’s studying with Father Gryffd!’ Honoria gestured toward the two.

As she noted, Eva was beaming as the vicar showed her how the story he’d just read was inscribed in the coding on that page. If she studied hard, he added, a whole world of stories would soon be open for her to discover.

‘I suppose I should learn some knitting myself, so I might encourage her,’ Honoria said, looking away from them with a smile. ‘Father Gryffd says she hangs on my words and mimics everything I do.’ She shook her head, sighing, as she recalled some recent events. ‘Not always a wise idea, I fear!’

‘Of course she watches you and copies. You possess a sparkling, dynamic presence that must make you a person of influence wherever you go. The knack of inspiring confidence in others is intangible, something that can’t be taught.’ He grimaced. ‘As I have often observed, some men are incapable of leading, no matter how much gold braid and lace one layers on a uniform.’

‘I would have liked to be a soldier, like my brother,’ she said wistfully, almost absurdly gratified by his praise—before the new voice of caution reasserted itself, pointing out to her all she had lost by foolishly indulging the idea that she could live life on her own terms.

‘But it’s silly even to discuss it,’ she said with an angry shake of her head. ‘Only men have the freedom to go soldiering and exploring and to make what they wish of their lives.’ Her thoughts going from herself to Laurie Steavens, she added bitterly, ‘Women are everywhere hemmed in, constrained to narrow paths with few choices and punished if they stray from them.’

From somewhere deep within her, a swell of emotion rose, a chaotic mix of anger, disappointment, hurt, fear and despair. Terrified for one panicky instant that she might weep, she fought it down.

Suddenly she wanted to get away, to seize her sketchbook and flee to the cliffs where the fierce wind and roaring surf could work its soothing magic. She didn’t need this impossibly tempting man luring her further toward the danger that had already destroyed her life—or tantalizing her with possibilities that could never be.

But before she could master her voice enough to announce her intention to depart, he caught her sleeve, forcing her to look up at him.

‘I’d never thought about it before, for my sister seems happy enough to be a wife and mother, but you’re right. Women are constrained. And it is unfair, isn’t it?’

The sympathy on his face and in his eyes halted her even more effectively than his hand on her sleeve. Once again, she felt herself physically pulled toward him, drawn by a fierce spirit that seemed to mirror her own as it looked deep within her, both understanding and admiring what it saw. Even after he released her, she remained motionless, staring at him, the rational, protective half of her brain warring with the wild, instinctive part that urged her to reach out. To trust him.

Caution won again. ‘Perhaps. But ’tis no point repining what cannot be changed. Father Gryffd, if it’s all right with you, I believe I shall leave. I’ve promised my aunt some sketches of the coast and thought I’d attempt some today, while the weather is fair. Eva, I’ll see you tomorrow, pet.’

‘Of course, Miss Foxe. We’re about done for today anyway, aren’t we, Eva?’

The child bounded up and ran to Honoria. Tugging at her skirt, she made a series of rapid hand motions that looked something like water rushing toward a shore, the soar of a cliff and cawing sea birds before gesturing emphatically back to herself.

With a smile, Honoria said, ‘You wish to come with me?’

As the child nodded enthusiastically, the captain said, ‘You seem to have learned her language quite well.’

‘We’re becoming good friends,’ Honoria replied before looking down to tell the child, ‘Of course, you may come.’ She might initially have wished to go alone, but she could never disappoint the eager girl.

Eva bounced once in excitement, then tilted her head to the side, drew her hand slowly down one cheek and pointed to Honoria.

‘And what does that mean?’ Hawksworth asked.

With a smile, the vicar answered for her. ‘It means the cliffs are pretty—like Miss Foxe.’

While Honoria flushed a bit in embarrassment, the captain murmured, ‘Clever child.’

Eva surprised Honoria by uttering a little giggle before turning to seize Captain Hawksworth’s hand. Tugging at it, she made the sea and cliff gesture again.

‘I think she wants me to come with you,’ the captain said, sounding amused. ‘I should very much like to go sketching, Miss Eva. If Miss Foxe does not object?’

Honoria hesitated, trapped. The strong surge of excitement that welled up at the idea of having his company ought to have been reason enough, her cautious side argued, for her finding some polite excuse to decline. But with the undertow of connection still running strongly between them, she didn’t have the strength to resist.

Besides, she told the cautious brain, they would have Eva to chaperone—and what untoward thing could happen with a curious child in train?

‘Very well, Captain, if you don’t think you’d be bored.’

‘In the company of two lovely and clever ladies?’ he reposted immediately. ‘Impossible! However, it might be possible to become rather sharp-set during a strenuous hike. If you ladies will walk with me to the Gull, I’ll see if I can persuade Mrs Kessel to kit us out with some biscuits and cider, and obtain a gig to carry us there. Would you like that, Eva?’

Naturally the child nodded with great enthusiasm. Sighing, Honoria beat back the vague unease still troubling her and agreed that she would enjoy it, too.

She would enjoy it, she told her cautious side defiantly. Enjoy the company of the eager child, this highly attractive man and the beautiful setting.

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