The Piratical Miss Ravenhurst - Page 56

Those days together on the Orion had given her a glimpse of what their life together could be, the companionship, the shared amusements, the spark of temper and the fun of making up. Everything, that is, except the nights spent in each other’s arms. Her body ached as she let herself remember the feel of those slim hips between her thighs as she had massaged his back, the ripple of muscle under the palms, the spring of his hair, the scent of hot masculinity.

Stubborn, stubborn man! And yet, now, she could understand his scruples. And it was not as though he loved her, after all. He knew she was safe now so he had no need to fight for her.

Clemence screwed her eyes tightly shut and refused to let herself cry.

Chapter Eighteen

‘We have arrived.’

The chaise swung through between tall gate posts. Clemence caught a glimpse of a quaint cottage and a man holding the gate, then they were into parkland, great sweeping grasslands dotted with trees, the glint of distant water, a small temple artfully placed on a mound. Elegant, artificial and yet deeply satisfying.

‘What are those odd cattle?’ Eliza pointed.

‘Deer.’ She knew that, she had seen pictures. Clemence tightened her grip on her reticule, her elbow rubbing against Nathan’s. A hired chaise was hardly big enough for a hound and four people, not when one of them was Street. Street, Nathan had decreed, was staying with her, although in what capacity he had not said. Her imagination baulked at the thought of the ex-pirate in footman’s livery.

The carriage drive seemed endless, but at last they came to a halt and Nathan opened the door and handed her down. ‘Courage,’ he murmured as he offered her his arm. ‘You faced down Red Matthew McTiernan, one duchess will be child’s play.’

The footman who answered the door was too well trained to express surprise to find himself confronted by an unexpected member of his master’s family on the arm of a naval officer, although his eyes widened at the sight of their entourage, one of whom was snarling at a peacock. The butler, materialising as they entered, was above showing even that degree of surprise and ushered Clemence and Nathan into a salon. ‘Your staff will be comfortable in the servants’ hall, sir. I will ascertain if her Grace is receiving.’

‘Clemence! My dear child, I had no idea!’ The human whirlwind who appeared five minutes later, sweeping past the butler, clasped Clemence to her bosom and kissed her on both cheeks. ‘You poor lamb, I was devastated to hear about your papa and then your uncle said you were unwell—we had no thought you might be able to make the journey.’

Clemence found herself seated beside the lady she supposed must be her aunt. She was tall, although not as tall as Clemence, dark haired, long nosed and remarkably handsome. At first glance she seemed daunting, but there was humour in her large blue eyes and kindness in the clasp of her hands around Clemence’s own cold ones.

‘I was not unwell, ma’am. My uncle Naismith is determined on seizing my inheritance by forcing me to marry my cousin Lewis. I ran away,’ she added, then ran out of words. There ought to be some way to gently lead up to what had happened, but it escaped her.

The duchess raised her eyebrows, took a deep breath, then turned her eyes on Nathan. ‘With this gentleman?’

‘Captain Nathan Stanier, your Grace. Royal Navy. Miss Ravenhurst’s fight took her into the hands of a pirate crew of which I was, at that time, the navigator.’

‘On a naval mission, I trust? Your present occupation does not represent a sudden change of heart?’ Despite her sharp words, her expression as she turned back to Clemence was gentle. ‘My dear, I am sure you would like to tell me all about this alone in my boudoir.’

‘No, thank you, ma’am. There is nothing I cannot discuss in front of Captain Stanier. I was disguised as a boy. There was a battle and it was all very unpleasant. But, through it all, Captain Stanier knew and protected me. He was hurt because of me. Nothing…untoward occurred.’ At least her aunt was not having hysterics, or had shown her the door or any of the other unpleasant scenarios that had been running through her mind.

‘Call me Aunt Amelia, child.’ The duchess squeezed her hands. ‘You will want to rest a while and take some tea. Captain,

may I trouble you to pull the bell? Thank you. Ah, Andrewes, please will you show Miss Ravenhurst to the Blue suite and send my woman to her. And a tea tray.’

‘Aunt Amelia—’ She was being got out of the way while her aunt interrogated Nathan, which was unfair. She should stay and defend him.

‘I will just have a word with Captain Stanier, my dear,’ the duchess continued, confirming her fears. ‘I will come and see you shortly.’

Nathan met her eyes and mouthed, Go, so Clemence got to her feet, bemused. She could hardly cling to his coat and insist on staying.

‘Perhaps you had better say goodbye now,’ her aunt added with finality.

Clemence swallowed. She had not expected the parting to be so sudden and she had no words beyond, ‘Thank you, Na…Captain.’ He was studying her, like a painter looking at a subject before he laid chalk to paper. She tried again. ‘You saved my life, at no little risk to your own. I thank you and I wish you well. Goodbye.’

‘It was a pleasure to be of service, Miss Ravenhurst.’ He reached into his coat and pulled out a slender package. ‘A trifle. A keepsake. I saw your name on it, but I have not stopped to translate it, I fear.’

He bowed, she curtsied and took it, an unimportant thing when all she wanted was him, and then she was walking away from the man she had thought, for a few blissful moments, would be her destiny.

‘Well, Captain Stanier?’

Despite the distinct feeling that he was up before the admiral on charges, Nathan felt a twinge of appreciation. The duchess was formidably unshaken by the unexpected arrival of her niece and, he could see, was more than capable of looking after Clemence.

‘There is no doubt, your Grace, that Miss Ravenhurst is quite comprehensively compromised. She has spent nights in my cabin, during only one of which was I fooled into thinking she was male. But I can give you my word that, although she has been exposed to violence that no young woman should ever see, her virtue has not been outraged.’

‘You relieve my mind,’ she said drily. ‘But as you say, my niece is compromised. It does not occur to you to offer her the protection of your name?’

Tags: Louise Allen Historical
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