Chivalrous Captain, Rebel Mistress (10 page)

She tossed her head. ‘What do I care for that? I am well able to take care of myself.’

He grasped her arms. ‘You do not comprehend. You are no longer a stranded orphan needing protection. You have a guardian who can assume your care.’

She tilted her head back so she could look him in the eye. ‘You do not comprehend, Captain. I want nothing to do with my uncle.’

He brusquely released her. ‘I must insist upon this. You must go to him. Place yourself in his charge.’

It shocked her that he would send her away. ‘I am needed here, Captain. We have men to tend, whose health and well-being are in our hands. I cannot leave them. Not for
him
.’

‘Marian, it is not for him. It is for you. If you are under the care of your guardian and his party, there can be no taint to your character.’ He spoke in an earnest tone. ‘Only the members of this household know what you have been doing and none of them will besmirch you. This is your only chance.’

Her insides twisted. ‘You cannot make me go.’

He pierced her with his gaze. ‘I must.’

‘Why?’ She felt close to tears. ‘Because he is your superior officer?’

Something flickered in his eyes. ‘No. Because this is the only way to preserve your good name and your future. No other reason.’

It still felt like betrayal. ‘You will give me no choice. You will force me.’

His eyes hardened again. ‘Yes.’

The captain took her that very afternoon.

The beauty of the Parc was lost on Marian as they walked through it to reach her uncle’s hotel. The tension between them clouded her vision to the green shrubbery, white statues and colourful flowers. All she saw were more injured soldiers sitting upon benches and resting beneath trees. Could they not take more men into their care?

Could the captain not see that she needed to take care of the soldiers? It angered and disappointed her that he considered the needs of the men less important than the preservation of her reputation.

Even more painful, being forced to stay with her uncle meant being parted from the captain. Each day she’d shared with him made it more like he was the very air she must breathe, essential to life. She knew eventually his duties to his regiment would take him away, but even a few more weeks, a few more days, would be more precious than the finest jewels.

In her daydreams they would meet again away from war, somewhere in England where he was free to choose being with her rather than feeling it an obligation. There he would court her and perhaps they could kiss without her feeling she had seduced him into it.

Perhaps then he would not find anything about her of which to disapprove.

Her mind filled with all the ways he disapproved of her as they continued across the Parc. It helped fuel her anger.

And dampen the pain of parting with him.

Too quickly they arrived at the elegant Hôtel de Flandres, and the captain enquired after her uncle Tranville. The hotel’s attendant showed them into a small drawing room to wait while he announced their arrival.

After a brief time a lovely woman entered the room. ‘Miss Pallant? Captain Landon?’ She extended her hand to them.

Marian did not miss the stunned expression on Allan’s face at the sight of this chestnut-haired beauty. She felt inexplicably jealous.

‘I am Ariana Blane,’ the captivating creature said.

‘Ariana Blane?’ Marian’s eyes widened in surprise.

Ariana Blane was the actress who had posed as Cleopatra in a scandalous painting that had been engraved and widely printed to publicise the play. When Marian left for Brussels, all of London had been clamouring for tickets to the performance.

‘I saw you play Juliet at Drury Lane,’ she told Miss Blane.

‘That seems a long time ago.’ Miss Blane looked wistful. ‘I am afraid we did not know of your presence in Brussels, Miss Pallant, or we would have sent word about your uncle. I will take you to him right away.’

As she led them out of the drawing room and up the stairway, the Captain asked, ‘Miss Blane, what connection do you have with Lord Tranville?’

She gave him a coy look. ‘I might ask the same question of your connection to Miss Pallant.’

His eyes narrowed. ‘I am her escort.’

She laughed. ‘My connection is not so simple.’ She paused on the stairs. ‘I am betrothed to a man whose mother is a
friend of Lord Tranville. When we learned Lord Tranville had been injured, she assumed his care.’

The captain seemed to relax.

‘How bad are his injuries?’ Marian asked, hating herself for hoping they were severe enough that he could not bother with her.

They continued up the stairs.

‘He has a badly broken leg and has just recovered from fever and an infection of the lungs,’ Miss Blane said. ‘He is weak, but much improved, certainly well enough to receive you.’

Marian felt a pang of disappointment.

They walked down a hallway and Miss Blane knocked upon a door. ‘Are you ready for us?’ she called.

The door was opened by a manservant, a man who looked familiar to Marian, but she could not work out why.

Her uncle was propped up in a large bed, wrapped in a colourful banyan. He looked smaller than she recalled and pale, but alert. His hair had turned white in the two years since she’d last seen him, just after her aunt died.

An older woman approached. ‘Miss Pallant, I do not know if you know me—’

This was another surprise. ‘Mrs Vernon! I remember you. From Bath.’

Mrs Vernon had been the mistress Marian’s aunt had so despised, the woman her aunt had said lured her uncle away. The manservant had then been in her employ.

‘Oh, my goodness.’ Marian turned back to Miss Blane. ‘Jack Vernon! Is Jack Vernon your betrothed?’

Jack was Mrs Vernon’s son. When they’d been children, Edwin used to pick fights with Jack, and Marian would try to stop him. Otherwise Edwin would come home with a black eye and a bloody nose, and his father would bellow at him for being a ninny.

‘He is indeed.’ Miss Blane smiled.

‘Jack Vernon?’ The captain looked equally incredulous. ‘Lieutenant Jack Vernon of the East Essex?’

Mrs Vernon answered him. ‘That is my son. Do you know him?’

‘I do.’ The captain sounded surprised.

The connections made Marian’s mind swirl. The captain was connected to her uncle and cousin and to Jack Vernon, as well.

‘You just missed him,’ Miss Blane said. ‘Jack left to rejoin his regiment yesterday.’

Marian nearly forgot her manners. ‘Mrs Vernon, allow me to present Captain Landon.’

‘Landon!’ Her uncle’s voiced boomed from the bed, feeling neglected, Marian thought. ‘Attend me.’

The captain stiffened before approaching her uncle’s bedside. ‘Yes, sir.’

‘Why are you not with the regiment?’

Marian hurried over. ‘He was injured, Uncle.’

‘Injured?’ Her uncle huffed. ‘I was not informed of this.’

‘Sir.’ The captain’s voice had a hard edge. ‘We only today learned of your presence in Brussels.’

‘
We?
What do you mean by
we
, Landon?’ His expression was contemptuous. ‘What do you have to do with my niece?’ He turned to Marian. ‘What the devil are you doing in Brussels, girl? You have no call to be here.’

She fought to hold her temper. ‘I came with Sir Roger and Lady Fenton. You do recall their daughter is a great friend of mine.’

‘Sir Roger brought you?’ He looked indignant. ‘I gave no such permission.’

Marian met his eye. ‘Your man of business gave permission for me to stay with the Fentons.’ As if his man of business cared any more than her guardian did where she went or what she did. ‘Did you not put him in charge of me?’

He leaned forwards in bed. ‘Do not be impertinent.’

Impertinent? Marian had no intention of allowing her uncle to intimidate her.

He turned back to the captain. ‘What is your part in this, Landon?’

Marian held her breath, hoping the Captain would lie, hoping he would see now how awful her uncle could be.

Hoping he would not leave her.

The captain straightened. ‘I am recuperating in the house Sir Roger leased in this city.’

Marian could have kissed him. He had not lied, precisely; merely withheld the whole truth.
Well done, Captain!
She applauded silently.

‘I’ve a mind to ring a peal over Sir Roger’s head, bringing my niece here. Damned fools, all these English flocking to Brussels when Napoleon was about to attack.’

Miss Blane rolled her eyes and Mrs Vernon lowered hers. These two English women, of course, had flocked to Brussels and had probably nursed him back to health.

Tranville pointed at Marian. ‘You, girl, you tell Sir Roger I wish him to call upon me posthaste.’

Marian kept her voice steady. ‘I will inform him of your request the next time I see him.’

She heard a breath escape the captain’s mouth.

Please keep quiet, Captain.

Her uncle turned his attention back to him. ‘What news of the regiment, Landon?’

‘I know little, except they were bound for France,’ he responded.

‘Has Edwin gone with them?’ he asked.

A muscle in the captain’s jaw tensed. ‘No, sir.’

Mrs Vernon came to Tranville’s side and took his hand. ‘Remember, Lionel? Edwin is staying nearby until you are well.’

‘Fool,’ he huffed. ‘His duty is to the regiment.’ He pointed to the captain. ‘I told him to befriend you. Said he could learn
a thing or two from you. But Edwin never did anything I told him to do—’ His voice broke off into a fit of coughing.

Marian felt angry on Edwin’s behalf. He’d accepted a commission in the army to please his father even though Edwin had been totally unsuited to it.

Her uncle’s coughing subsided and he leaned back against the pillow, looking weak and tired.

Unfortunately he roused again. ‘Landon, you should have insisted Sir Roger or his wife accompany my niece. This is family business, not regimental business. It is not your affair.’

Marian spoke before the captain could respond. ‘Captain Landon came at my request, Uncle,’ she replied sharply. ‘You have no call to scold him for it—’

Her uncle’s eyes bulged. ‘See here, girl!’

She kept on. ‘He was being a gentleman, which is more than I can say for—’

The captain put a hand on her arm. ‘Enough, Marian.’

She glanced at him in alarm and mouthed, ‘No.’

He turned to her uncle. ‘I will tell you why I have escorted your niece.’

‘Go on.’ Her uncle gave her a smug look.

Marian felt ill.

The captain set his chin. ‘Sir Roger and Lady Fenton left for England several days ago. Your niece remained and opened the house for wounded soldiers.’

‘What?’ Uncle Tranville sat upright. ‘She is acting as a nurse? Shameful. That is only for lowlife.’

‘We are acting as your nurses,’ Miss Blane muttered, but Uncle Tranville seemed to take no notice.

Marian lifted her chin. ‘It is true Sir Roger left and I stayed behind. And it is true Captain Landon is one of the soldiers in my care, the only officer, which is why I chose him to escort me. I have not acted the nurse, however. Those tasks have been performed by the Fentons’ Belgian servants. I have merely managed the house.’

‘Managed the house,’ her uncle muttered in disdain. ‘You make it sound like a brothel.’ His thoughts seemed to drift for a moment, then caught on some idea. He peered at the Captain and spoke in the most matter-of-fact tone. ‘You spent the night under the same roof with my niece without a proper chaperon?’

Captain Landon straightened and held her uncle’s gaze. ‘Yes, sir. She kept me alive.’

Her uncle waved those words away as if Captain Landon’s life was of no consequence. ‘That is very improper. Very improper indeed.’

When had her uncle ever cared about where she went or what she did? ‘You are being nonsensical, Uncle.’

He tapped his fingers on his mouth. ‘He compromised a decent young lady.’

‘He did not compromise me,’ Marian cried. It would be more accurate to say that she had compromised him. ‘Besides, you are not one to pass judgement, Uncle.’

When had he ever acted with propriety? He’d never taken any steps to conceal his relationship with Mrs Vernon. All of Bath knew. Marian’s aunt had been greatly shamed by it. He’d not even remained faithful to Mrs Vernon, which caused even more talk.

‘Perhaps this is not the best time to discuss this,’ Miss Blane broke in. ‘Are you not becoming fatigued, Lord Tranville?’

‘I am as fit as you are.’ His eyes shot daggers at her.

Miss Blane seemed unaffected.

‘Listen.’ The captain stepped forwards. ‘I can resolve this—’

‘Indeed you can, Landon!’ Her uncle laughed as if in triumph. ‘You can marry her.’

‘Marry me!’ Marian cried.

‘Marry her.’ The older man’s expression turned smug. ‘It is the perfect solution. He compromised her; he must marry her.’

‘He did not compromise me!’

Her uncle paid her no heed. ‘I must admit, I once thought that I’d marry you to Edwin, but now that Edwin will be a baron one day he needs to look a great deal higher. Landon will be perfect, though. He’s a younger son, perfectly respectable, but needing to marry a fortune. You, my girl, have an excellent fortune.’

None of Marian’s fantasies of how a gentleman might propose marriage had ever included her uncle. She would not go along with this no matter what. She’d already refused when the captain tried to propose out of duty; she certainly would not accept when the proposal came through her uncle. She was speechless with rage. How dared he?

The captain wore a thunderous expression. Mrs Vernon looked as if she might cry. Miss Blane looked disgusted.

‘Sir.’ The captain’s voice was taut. ‘It is not your place to propose—’

‘Of course it is my place to propose,’ her uncle interrupted. ‘I am her guardian. I am supposed to see her married. This way I am saved the trouble of finding someone to bring her out into society.’

‘I had my come-out in Bath with Domina,’ Marian said to no avail.

Her uncle was beyond listening. ‘I am correct that you have no fortune, am I not?’ he demanded of the captain.