The Captain's Christmas Family (14 page)

He had nearly given up hope when, on the fourth evening, the library door opened tentatively and she peeped in. “I hope I am not disturbing you, Captain.”

“Not in the least,” he assured her, though it was not altogether true.

During Christmas they had been so often together that his awareness of her had mellowed. But now that feeling had intensified again to the point where it was rather disturbing…in a pleasant way.

As she entered the room, Miss Murray seemed more self-conscious around him, too, without the girls present. Did she recall that meeting of their lips under the kissing bough and wonder whether she would be safe alone with him?

“I thought I might borrow one of those new books you acquired.” She scanned the shelves. “If you don’t mind.”

“Not at all.” Did she not realize he had purchased them for her benefit? “I have finished
Waverley
and just started
Pride and Prejudice.
The latter may be intended for ladies, but I am enjoying it very much.”

He gestured toward the table beside him where the new books lay.

Miss Murray approached with an air of hesitation. She picked up one of the books and read a little from the first page, then laid it back down and tried another. In the end she chose the one titled
Sense and Sensibility.

Once she’d made her selection, Gideon feared she would go away again. But she lingered, though her glance often flickered toward the door. “I must confess, Captain, I had more in mind than seeking a book when I came here. May I sit?”

“Please, do.” Had their time together at Christmas made her realize she enjoyed his company?

When she sank onto the armchair opposite his, Gideon sat back down. “May I inquire as to your other reason?”

He wasn’t entirely certain he wanted to know. Flattering as it would be to think that such an admirable young woman might have some slight fancy for him, their respective duties made it impossible for anything to come of it. He must return to the
Integrity,
and she must accompany her young pupils to their new home with their aunt. He knew better than to suppose she would ever desert them.

“It’s about Cissy and Dolly, sir.”

He should have guessed. Gideon strove to ignore a sting of disappointment. The girls were her top priority. He doubted there was anything in the world she would not do for them.

“They are well, I hope.” That sting swelled to a stab of fear he could not ignore. For the past few days, he had missed the girls but never taken the trouble to inquire about them. “All the rich food, late hours and time out in the cold have not made them ill?”

A soft smile lit Marian Murray’s features as she shook her head. It seemed to hold a warm glow of gratitude and a faint flicker of…triumph? “They are very well, Captain, though Dolly is having a little trouble settling back down to her lessons after all the excitement of Christmas. It is kind of you to inquire after them. I believe you have come to care for the girls.”

He could not deny it. “I must admit, it is a great surprise how much they have come to mean to me in such a short time. They are so different from one another, yet each so dear in her way.”

“That is exactly how I feel.” Her warm brown eyes shone with a depth of love that Gideon might have envied if he did not share it. “Which is why I would like you to seek guardianship of Cissy and Dolly.”

Her suggestion stunned him as badly as if she’d hurled the book at his head.

“Guardianship?” he stammered. “You must be joking!”

His reply ripped the smile from her lips and the glow from her eyes. “I would never joke about the girls’ welfare. If you do not become their guardian, their future will be no laughing matter, I assure you. You would make an excellent guardian. It is obvious by the way you treated them at Christmas.”

Now that the shock of Miss Murray’s proposition was wearing off, Gideon could not deny a traitorous flicker of temptation, which alarmed him. “Nonsense! Playing father for a few days at Christmas hardly qualifies me to take permanent responsibility for the girls. I am simply not cut out for that sort of role.”

“I reckon you could be if you wanted to. If you were willing to try.” Gone was his congenial companion of the past few weeks. In her place sat the steely creature he’d had the misfortune to encounter when he first arrived at Knightley Park.

“It has nothing to do with wanting or trying.” Gideon sprang from his chair and stalked around to stand behind it. This felt like a stronger position from which to repel her challenge. “I have responsibilities to my crew and my country. They are the most important things in the world to me. Besides, it is not as if the girls are without anyone to care for them. They will have you
and their aunt. She is a much more suitable person to have charge of two young girls.”

“You might not say that if you knew her.” Miss Murray surged up from her chair, the better to confront him. “It has been months since the girls’ father died, yet there has not been a word from Lady Villiers. Who knows when, or if, she will return?”

“She must have a man of affairs who can get in contact with her,” replied Gideon. “I will look into it while I am in London. If you are concerned about the girls having to leave Knightley Park in the meantime, you may put your fears to rest. They are welcome to stay here until their aunt comes to collect them.”

If he became the children’s guardian, they would never have to leave until they were old enough to marry and have homes of their own. That would mean Marian Murray would stay, too, for many years. If by chance the inquiry went against him, guardianship of the girls would give him an alternative sense of purpose.

No! Duty and conscience protested. He must fight for his reputation and his command with every ounce of determination he possessed. Not just against the Admiralty and the powerful influence of those who had disgraced him, but against the siren song of home and family at Knightley Park.

Miss Murray drew a deep breath and squared her shoulders. It was clear she did not intend to make this easy for him. “It is kind of you not to turn the girls out, Captain, but there is far more to it. Lady Villiers is a woman of very different character from Cissy and Dolly’s mother. She values her independence. She likes to travel and keep herself amused. The children need
continuity and stability in their lives, especially after the upheaval they have suffered in the past few years. Please believe me when I say you would make a far better guardian for the girls than their aunt.”

Marian Murray did not consider him capable of regaining his command. She could not propose such a scheme otherwise. After all he had confided in her, that felt like a betrayal.

“If you had such grave reservations about Lady Villiers, why am I only hearing them now?” he demanded in a tone as chill as the winter air that frosted the library windows.

His question rocked her back, putting her on the defensive. Her gaze shifted, guiltily. “Because, I did not think it would do any good. I assumed there was no alternative to her ladyship. But when I saw how much you have come to care about the children, it gave me hope that you might be willing to intervene on their behalf.”

An appalling suspicion took hold of Gideon. “You planned this from the very beginning, didn’t you? Coaxing me to spend time with the girls, to become close to them so I could be persuaded to seek guardianship?”

Had their accidental meetings in the library also been in furtherance of her scheme? What about that impulsive embrace? Had she used her charms on a lonely man to lure him into spending time with her and her young pupils? Gideon cursed himself for a fool, being so quick to trust again after being betrayed. Worse yet, he had let the pretty Scottish governess far deeper into his heart and confidence than any of his officers aboard the
Integrity.

The answer to his accusation was written plain on her pale features. “I…I…not from the very beginning. When you first came here, I didn’t think you would make any better guardian for the girls than their aunt. But as I got to know you, it seemed you were the answer to my prayers.”

“Your prayers?” Gideon infused the word with all the scorn he felt for his own foolish weakness. How could he have imagined a woman like her might take a fancy to a charmless old sea dog? To think he had fretted about injuring her reputation and her feelings, when her only interest in him had been to further her plans.

“So you believe the Lord and Master of the Universe dances to your tune, Miss Murray? I suppose you think He had a young man killed and my reputation dragged through the mud all for your convenience!” As if it wasn’t daft enough of him to believe she might care for him, he had even begun to swallow all her moonshine about the power of prayer and God’s personal interest in him.

“I think no such thing!” Her eyes blazed with violent indignation. “I do not believe God makes ill-fortune befall us. What happened on your ship was the doing of men who put their desire to dominate others ahead of anything else. But I
do
believe the Lord can bring good out of evil in answer to our prayers.”

There was something dangerously appealing about that notion, but Gideon refused to surrender to it. Marian Murray had never cared for him except as a means to provide the sort of future she deemed best for his young cousins. “I fail to see how even God can
answer both your prayers and mine when the things we want are so vastly opposed.”

The hostile tension that had gripped Marian Murray seemed to let her go all at once. “I thought you would want to help Cissy and Dolly.”

Those plaintive words posed a greater threat to Gideon’s resolve than her earlier hostility. “I do, but I fail to see how my seeking guardianship would accomplish that.”

“Why?” she challenged him again, but with less vigor, as if she knew it was hopeless. “Because you hold yourself partly to blame for what happened to that young midshipman? Because he was your responsibility and you feel you failed him?”

Hearing his deepest regrets laid bare that way shook Gideon to the core.

“Yes, if you must know.” He turned and stalked toward the door. “Now I see nothing to be gained by discussing this matter any further. Your duty is to your pupils. Mine is to my ship and my crew.”

“God forgives you,” she called after him, her voice shrill with desperation. “Please do not punish the girls because you cannot forgive yourself!”

When he refused to rise to the bait, Miss Murray hurled one final accusation after him. “I thought you cared about Cissy and Dolly. Clearly you are capable of pretending greater feelings than you possess!”

Pretend
greater
feelings that he possessed? Absurd! When he recalled how it had taxed his self-possession to conceal the extent of his feelings for her, Gideon longed to turn back and set Miss Murray straight. But he knew he did not dare.

S
he’d had no right to accuse Gideon Radcliffe of pretending more affection than he felt.

In the week following his departure for London, Marian often recalled their final conversation with regret. It was not
his
fault she had come to care more for him than she had any right to. He had done nothing deliberate to encourage her. The fault was hers for reading more into his kind actions than he’d ever intended.

“I wish Cousin Gideon took us to London with him.” The words burst out of Dolly one morning in the middle of their history lesson. “I miss him.”

Marian stifled an almost overwhelming urge to agree. Finding she could not keep silent altogether, she offered a tepid reply. “Knightley Park does not seem quite the same without him.”

Not the same at all. Indeed, it felt as if he had taken all the air and warmth and light away with him. Since his departure, Marian often caught herself listening for his footsteps or gazing out the window, hoping to glimpse him riding in the distance. More often than
ever, she visited the library in the evenings. Not to borrow more books, but because it was there she felt a lingering echo of his presence most strongly.

“Perhaps Aunt Lavinia will take us to London when she comes,” suggested Cissy, her nose buried in her book. Though she did not ask about Captain Radcliffe as incessantly as her sister, his going seemed to have left the child more subdued than ever.

The thought of Lady Villiers taking the girls anywhere sent a chill down Marian’s back and loaded her with a crushing burden of guilt. God had presented her with an ideal means of delivering Cissy and Dolly from their aunt, but she had destroyed any hope of it. She should have persuaded Gideon gently rather than allowing his resistance to make her angry and spout hurtful words.

How could she blame him for his reluctance to take charge of his young cousins after his last effort to play a fatherly role had ended so disastrously? She’d mouthed glib platitudes about God’s forgiveness, but would she ever be able to forgive herself for failing the girls in this most important task?

“I don’t want to go with Aunt Lavinia.” Dolly wriggled out of her seat and ran over to admire her toy boat. “She wouldn’t take us anywhere interesting in London. I want to see all the ships on the River Thames.”

With a sigh of impatience and regret, Marian went after the child. “You may play with your boat later. Now come back to the table and we’ll have a geography lesson with your dissected puzzle.”

“But this is the time for history,” Cissy complained.
“Besides, we’ve put that silly old puzzle together so many times we could do it with our eyes closed.”

“Well, I like it.” Dolly stuck out her tongue at her sister.

Cissy glared back at her.

“Enough,” Marian warned them both in a stern tone. “We’ll do something different this time. I shall tell you a clue about the country and if you guess its name, I will give you the piece to add to the puzzle.”

“That sounds like fun.” Dolly skipped back to the table.

Cissy slammed her book shut.

Marian was about to speak sharply to her when she spied a film of unshed tears in the child’s eyes. “Here’s your first clue. It is a country on the North Sea and its capital city is Copenhagen.”

As they proceeded with the game, using the Christmas gift Gideon had bought for Dolly, Marian knew she was right that the girls needed him far more than the Royal Navy did. She also believed they enriched his life beyond the measure of his naval duties. If only she had not allowed her secret feelings for him to interfere with the girls’ interests, perhaps she could have made him see that, too.

She managed to get through the day by focusing her attention strictly on the children, trying to make up for how she had failed them. Once they were in bed she slipped down to the library for a half hour where she allowed herself to indulge in missing him, reliving the evenings they’d spent there discussing books and getting to know one another. But she did not choose a new book to read. Having read
Sense and Sensibility
through once, she’d already started on it again. Both the characters of Edward Ferrars and Colonel Brandon reminded her of Gideon. Reading about them made her feel a little closer to him.

As she slipped through the darkened nursery to her bedchamber, the sound of a sniffle stopped her. She held her breath, listening closely. Dolly’s breath was coming in deep, slow gusts. Groping her way toward Cissy’s bed, Marian perched on the edge.

“Are you feeling ill?” she whispered, reaching to lay her palm on the child’s forehead. “Or did you have a bad dream?”

Cissy’s face was a bit warm but not feverish. In answer to Marian’s question, she shook her head.

“What’s the matter, then?” Marian’s hand trailed down to wipe a tear from the child’s cheek. “Is it because of the captain going away? You don’t talk about him all the time as Dolly does, but I believe you still miss him.”

Cissy gulped for air as her small frame trembled with sobs. “It’s m-my fault…he went away. Dolly said so. Be-because I wasn’t…nice to him.”

“Shh!” Marian gathered the child into her arms. “That isn’t true at all. The captain had important business in London. I’m certain he misses you and Dolly as much as you miss him.”

“Will he come ba-back?” The child’s weeping quieted a little. “When he’s taken care of that bus-business?”

Marian wished she could reassure Cissy that Gideon would return to Knightley Park. But she could not lie to the child. That would only make matters worse in
the long run. “I’m not certain. We will have to hope and pray that he does. But if by chance he is not able to return soon, you must not think it is because of you.”

If anyone was to blame, Marian knew it was her.

She sat with Cissy and rubbed her head until the child finally fell asleep. All the while, a silent prayer ran through her mind. “
Please, Heavenly Father, let Gideon Radcliffe have a change of heart. Bring him back to Knightley Park to seek guardianship of the girls. They need him and he needs them. Please, please make him see that.”

Could Marian Murray seriously believe he would make a good guardian for Cissy and Dolly? That question and many others plagued Gideon on his long, cold journey to London. He knew he should be planning his defense for the upcoming inquiry, but somehow the future of those two dear girls seemed at least as important as his future in the Royal Navy.

As vigorously as he’d tried to deny the things Miss Murray had said, some of them rang uncomfortably true. He
did
feel responsible for Harry Watson’s death, almost as much as if he’d committed the vile deed with his own hands. He hadn’t protected the boy as he should. He’d placed too much trust in the wrong people and in his own authority. A distant, disinterested God might be able to forgive him, but his own conscience was a harsher tribunal.

As for showing more affection than he felt, that was patently absurd. Over the past weeks, he had fought against his reticent nature to demonstrate even a little of the feelings in his heart. He had not even admitted
to himself how much the children…and their governess…had come to mean to him. Only when he reached London, with a hundred and twenty miles of frozen countryside between them, did he truly plumb the depths of his feelings.

An aching emptiness gnawed at him as if he had not eaten in days. Except that the void afflicted his chest rather than his stomach. The only remedy he could find was to reflect upon his memories of the time he’d spent with them—the evening at the pantomime, the concert they’d performed for him on Twelfth Night, even their Sunday morning attendance at church. Savoring such sweet memories helped fill the void, yet it made the ache of longing more acute.

As the days passed, he strove to distract himself by consulting with his counsel, reviewing his testimony for the inquiry, making contact with any retired naval officers who might testify to his character. Such activities helped to occupy his thoughts; but whenever his concentration lapsed, he found himself wondering if there had been more snow in Nottinghamshire. Had Dolly caught the cold? Had Marian read all the new books he’d purchased for the library?

With each day that passed, he grew sorrier for having reacted so angrily to her well-intended suggestion that he become the girls’ guardian. He still felt like a fool that he’d misinterpreted her efforts to bring that about. But he no longer suspected she had deliberately sought to engage his affections to further her cause.

He knew he should be flattered that she considered him worthy to have charge of the children she loved so dearly. He wondered why she was so set against Lady
Villiers having the girls. The reasons she’d given him hardly sounded sufficient. Could it be that, having assumed a motherly role in the children’s lives, she could not bear to step aside for another woman?

Gideon could understand such feelings. How would he take it, if Lady Villiers remarried and her new husband became a father figure to Cissy and Dolly? Though that man was nothing more than a shadowy abstraction who might not ever exist, he still roused Gideon’s suspicion and hostility. How much more might the very real Lady Villiers loom as a threat to Marian Murray, who had no claim upon her young pupils except love?

At last the board of inquiry convened, and Gideon duly presented himself at the Admiralty to give evidence. As he entered the imposing Board Room, his gaze was drawn to an elaborate bay at the far end of the chamber. He could not help wondering what Dolly would think of the immense globe it held. No doubt Marian would be more interested in the tall, narrow bookcases that flanked the bay. Would Cissy ask why the big clock above it had only one hand rather than two? When he revealed that it was not a clock but a wind dial, Dolly would surely demand to know all about the workings of such an instrument.

One of the members of the inquiry board cleared his throat, reminding Gideon of his purpose there. “Now, Captain Radcliffe, if you would please give us an account of the events aboard HMS
Integrity
that led to your being suspended from command.”

“Certainly.” Gideon inhaled a deep breath and began to speak. To his relief, his earlier thoughts of Marian
and the girls gave him confidence. He knew they had faith in him and would never believe the false accusations against him. “It began when the late Mister Watson was assigned to my crew as a midshipman…?.”

The officers and gentleman of the board listened gravely, a few nodding in agreement with some point he made. But others scowled as he spoke, their brows raised in dubious expressions. Gideon recalled how Marian had offered to pray that justice would be done in his case.

It appeared he would need all the prayers he could get.

Over a month had passed since Gideon Radcliffe left Knightley Park. Dolly no longer asked about him quite so often. Cissy never mentioned him at all. If Marian hadn’t known better, she might have thought his visit was only a pleasant dream. Yet she found it hard to let go of that dream and the dwindling hope that Gideon might return before Lady Villiers arrived to collect the girls.

The clock in the library struck ten, jarring Marian from her concentration upon the newspaper. Every day she could get a copy of the paper, she brought it here to scan the pages, searching for any mention of Gideon’s inquiry. Again today, she’d found nothing.

Folding up the newspaper with a sigh, Marian wished she had asked Gideon to write her with his news. Not that he would have been disposed to agree after the way they’d quarreled. But he might have sent a note to the girls at least.

Perhaps she had been right to claim that he pretended
to care for Cissy and Dolly more than he truly did. At the time, however, she’d been thinking more about his feelings for her.

Was it futile for her to keep searching the newspapers? For all she knew, the inquiry might have concluded days ago. If the press failed to report the fact, it could only be because Captain Radcliffe had been exonerated of all wrongdoing. Having been avid to publish every vile rumor against him, they would surely be embarrassed to be proven wrong.

Pausing behind the chair in which Gideon had sat so many evenings, Marian ran her hand over the upholstery where his head had once rested. If the men on that board of inquiry had any sense at all, they would have known at once that Captain Radcliffe was incapable of dishonorable conduct. As soon as they heard his testimony, they had likely found him
innocent
and dispatched him back to his ship. If he ever returned to Knightley Park in the future, she and the girls would be long gone.

Marian wrenched her hand away from the chair and marched out of the room. She must stop coming here so often to scrutinize the newspapers. Above all, she must stop pestering God with her incessant prayers to fetch Gideon back to Knightley Park. Either He was ignoring her prayers or He had given her an answer and that answer was no. All she could do now was ask for the strength to bear His will and pray that Lady Villiers would not separate her from the girls.

When she heard the front door open and shut, Marian thought it must be Mr. Culpepper checking that the house was well secured for the night. After
an uncertain beginning, he and Captain Radcliffe had reached a point of mutual respect. With the captain gone, Mr. Culpepper seemed to have found fresh purpose in keeping Knightley Park running smoothly for his absent master.

The sound of footsteps behind her made Marian pause on the staircase and turn to bid the butler good-night. So sure was her expectation of seeing Mr. Culpepper that for a moment she scarcely recognized the tall, tired-looking man standing there in his greatcoat.

When recognition finally dawned, it took her breath away. The newspaper she’d been holding fluttered to the floor as her hand flew to her chest.

“Gid—er…Captain, you’re home!” Elation bubbled up within her until it felt as if she floated toward him. “Thank heaven you’re back. I prayed you would change your mind!”

Somehow she managed to keep from throwing her arms around him. But she could not prevent her gaze from sinking deep into his. The shadow of anguish in his eyes shattered her fragile delight.