Captain Fawley's Innocent Bride

When she thought of the adventures he must have had, in his soldiering days, she was amazed he could talk to her so kindly about the trivial concerns of a plain, provincial miss like her.

He gave her his wry, lopsided smile, which somehow always managed to make her own lips want to rise in imitation.

‘Then let us go and sample the refreshments,’ he suggested, turning her towards a door at the far side of the room from where the orchestra was playing.

‘Thank you, I should like that.’

She hoped very much that he would linger while she drank a glass of lemonade. Conversation would be limited, for after her initial burst of pleasure in securing his attention, she would doubtlessly become tongue-tied. He had experienced so much, when she had scarcely set foot outside her father’s parish before this trip to London. Not that he had personally related how he had fought his way across the Peninsula before suffering the horrific injuries at Salamanca that had left him hovering between life and death for months. No, that information had been gleaned from her mother’s friends, who made it their business to know everything about everyone.

They had shaken their heads, expressing pity as they related what they knew of his history, but she could only admire the determination with which he had clawed his way back to his present state. He did everything an able-bodied man did, though it must take him twice the effort. Why, he had even learned to ride a horse. She had glimpsed him on a couple of occasions, cantering through the park in the early morning, before many other people were about. He seemed to her to be so much more manly than the fashionable fops who lounged their languid way through London’s drawing rooms. He had overcome whatever life had thrown at him, which you could see, just by looking at him, had been a great deal.

She felt that first betraying blush sweep up her cheeks, which always assailed her at about this point in their meetings. For what could she say that might be of interest to a man like him, a man who had really lived? Though she knew that, whatever she said, he would never give her one of those condescending looks, which so many eligible bachelors seemed to have got down to a fine art. He was so kind, so magnanimous, so…

‘Tell me,’ he said, as they sauntered towards the table on which a large punch bowl sat, ‘just what a man has to do to secure a dance with your friend?’

Deborah’s flight of fancy exploded in mid-air, plummeting to earth like a spent rocket. He had not sought out her company because he wished for it. She was only a means by which he might be able to approach Susannah. Of course a man like him would not willingly spend time with a drab, nondescript, foolish, ignorant, penniless, plain…and let us not forget shy, awkward, dull…

She pulled herself together with effort, and pasted a polite social smile upon her face, as Captain Fawley continued, ‘I purposely arrived early tonight, and still her dance card seems to be full.’

‘It was full before ever we arrived,’ Deborah temporised. It was not her place to tell him that, no matter what he did, Susannah would rebuff him. Not only did she find him physically repulsive, but she had her sights set on a title. Forming an attachment with an impecunious commoner was not part of Susannah’s plan at all.

‘Before you arrived?’ Captain Fawley signalled a waiter to pour Deborah a glass of lemonade.

‘Yes,’ she confirmed, her heart plummeting as the waiter handed her a drink in a tall glass. It would take for ever to drink it down, and, for some reason, she no longer wanted to spend a moment longer with Captain Fawley than she had to. There was an acid heaviness in her stomach, her throat ached, and, to her annoyance, her eyes had begun to prickle with what she was afraid were burgeoning tears. She did not want him to see her cry. Lord, she did not want anyone to see her cry! What kind of ninny burst into tears at a ball because every man there wanted to dance with her friend and not her!

She took a gulp of the drink, appalled when the glass rattled against her teeth. Her hands were shaking.

‘Are you quite well, Miss Gillies?’ Captain Fawley looked concerned.

Her heart performed a peculiar lurch as she thought how like him it was to be so observant. ‘I…’ Lying was a sin. She would not do it. And yet, she desperately wanted to escape. If she was to twist the truth, just a little…there could be no harm in that, could there? ‘I think I would like to return to my mother, and sit beside her after all, if you do not mind?’

‘Of course.’ Captain Fawley took her glass and placed it on a convenient window ledge. He tucked her hand into the crook of his arm, pulling her hard against his body so that he could support her wilting form as he ushered her towards the door. She had never been held so close to any man before, except her father. It made her heart race to feel the heat of his body seeping through his uniform jacket. She could feel the flex of his muscled frame with every step he took, and a slight change of pressure every time he breathed in or out. And if she could feel him, then he must be aware she was trembling. Oh, pray God he would put it down to physical weakness, and would never guess that he had devastated her with his careless remark.

Her mother was sitting on a bench with several other chaperons, ladies whose task it was to ensure their charges maintained that delicate balancing act between doing their utmost to entrap an eligible bachelor into matrimony whilst simultaneously behaving with sufficient decorum to avert scandal.

‘Mrs Gillies,’ said Captain Fawley, executing a polite bow, ‘I fear your daughter is feeling unwell.’

‘Oh, dear!’ Her mother’s eyes shot past her, to where Susannah was twirling merrily around the floor with Baron Dunning. ‘We have only just arrived, and Susannah is having such success…she will not wish to leave. Do you really need to go home?’ She shifted to one side, so that Deborah could sit next to her. Taking her hand in hers, she gave it a squeeze. ‘Deborah was so ill over Christmas, I almost decided to put off coming to London at all. But Susannah was so keen…’ she explained to Captain Fawley.

‘I shall be fine, Mother. If I may but sit quietly for a while….’

‘Perhaps a turn about the garden, to get some fresh air?’ Lady Honoria Vesey-Fitch, an old friend of her mother’s suggested with an arch smile. ‘I am sure the Captain would oblige.’

Oh, no. It was bad enough that he did not wish to dance with her, never mind dragging the poor man round the garden on what would be a fool’s errand. For no amount of fresh air was going to make her feel any better. On the contrary, knowing that Captain Fawley would wish himself anywhere rather than with her would only serve to make her feel ten times worse.

‘Oh, no!’ To Deborah’s immense relief, her mother instantly vetoed the suggestion. ‘The cold night air would be most injurious to her health, after the heat of this stuffy room. I do not want her to catch a chill on top of everything else!’

Everything else? Had her mother guessed that her only daughter had been smitten by a severe case of hero-worship? Though how could she, when Deborah had only just worked it out for herself? It could be the only reason why her heart twisted at the look in Captain Fawley’s eyes every time Susannah turned him down, the little leap it performed when he turned, albeit with resignation, to her.

‘Is there nobody who could escort Miss Gillies home?’ Captain Fawley said, then, looking pensive, he ventured, ‘Or perhaps you could take your daughter home, if you would entrust Miss Hullworthy to my care. I assure you, I…’

That did it. He would gladly think of an excuse to shovel her out of the way, so that he could have Susannah all to himself. Pulling herself upright in her chair, she said, ‘There will be no need for anyone to leave, or any alteration made to our arrangements. I will be fine, if I may but sit quietly, for a while.’

‘Oh, but thank you for your concern, Captain,’ her mother put in quickly. ‘Please do call on us tomorrow if you are still anxious over my daughter’s health.’

An arrested expression came over his face. ‘I shall certainly do so,’ he said, a gleam coming to his eye.

Deborah glared down at her hands as she clasped them in her lap. He did not care a fig for her health! He had just worked out that, if he called, he would be able to ascertain which social events Susannah might be attending the next evening. For all his manly attributes, he was clearly inexperienced at wooing society women. He often arrived at a ball quite late, looking flustered, as though he had searched several venues before hitting upon the right one. But now he had cottoned on to the mysterious means by which his rivals had stolen a march over him. They called during the day, and by means of cajolery, flattery or downright bribery, wrought promises from their darling before even setting foot in the ballroom.

Tomorrow, he would join the ranks of admirers who called to deliver posies and drink tea whilst vying for Susannah’s favours.

She rather thought she might have a relapse tomorrow. She did not think she wished to witness his humiliation.

There was a smattering of applause as the music ended, and the dancers began to leave the floor. Baron Dunning returned Susannah, very correctly, to Mrs Gillies. Flicking her fan open, she waved it briskly before her face, pointedly ignoring Captain Fawley.

‘It is so hot in here,’ she complained.

‘Indeed,’ he put in, in an effort, Deborah was sure, to draw her sparkling gaze in his direction. ‘Miss Gillies has been quite overcome with the heat.’

‘Really?’ Instantly Susannah dropped what Deborah thought of as her ballroom manner, and looked at her with concern. ‘Oh, don’t say you are going to be ill again, Debs.’

‘I am not going to be ill,’ she grated, flustered at becoming the centre of attention. ‘I will be fine, if everyone was to just leave me alone.’ To her mortification, the tears that had long been threatening welled up; despite blinking furiously, one spilled down her cheek. Hastily, she wiped it away with her gloved hand.

‘Oh, Debs,’ said Susannah, her own eyes welling in sympathy. ‘You really are unwell. We must go home at once.’

‘No, no, I do not want to spoil your evening.’

‘And you have so many distinguished names on your dance card,’ put in Mrs Gillies. ‘You don’t want to disappoint so many eligible gentlemen….’

‘Oh, pooh to that!’ said Susannah, bending forward and taking Deborah’s hand. ‘I can dance with them all tomorrow. Or the next night. But I would never forgive myself if Deborah sacrificed her health for my pleasure.’

Deborah was swamped by a wave of guilt. No wonder the men all preferred Susannah to her. Not only was she far prettier, but she was a much nicer person too.

Captain Fawley certainly thought so. His eyes were glowing with admiration as he organised a footman to bring their carriage round. He was falling deeper and deeper under Susannah’s spell with every encounter. Just as she, Deborah realised, stifling a sob, was growing more hopelessly infatuated with him. She had experienced an almost overwhelming urge to cling to him when he finally handed her over to her mother. To fling her arms around him and beg him to forget Susannah. In a ballroom!

She allowed Susannah and her mother to hustle her to the ladies’ retiring room while they waited for their carriage and she grappled with the revelation that she had carelessly lost her heart to a man who scarcely noticed she existed.

‘I am so sorry,’ she said when they got into the carriage. ‘I have ruined your evening, Suzy, and it is not as though I feel that unwell.’

Susannah grasped her hand. ‘I shall not mind having an early night myself, truly, I promise you. Just lately, things seem to have become a bit of a whirl. It was easier, in some ways, when we first came to London, and hardly knew anybody.’

That was before Susannah had become such a hit. Her success had astounded Mrs Gillies, who had warned her not to expect too much from society. For though Susannah was so pretty, and so charming, and had so much wealth, that wealth came from trade.

‘I can introduce you to a certain level of society,’ she had explained. It was the reason that Deborah’s mother was acting as chaperon, after all. Her own lineage was impeccable. Her only problem was lack of money. Since Susannah’s family had plenty, they had come to a mutually beneficial arrangement. Mrs Gillies would introduce Susannah alongside her own daughter, and Susannah’s parents would foot the bill for both girls. ‘But there is no guarantee you will be accepted.’

Indeed, for the first few weeks of the Season, they had stayed in more often than they had gone out. Now, they had so many invitations, they had either to reject some, or attend several functions each evening.

And naturally, since Susannah’s parents were meeting their costs, Mrs Gillies felt obligated to ensure that she had the opportunity to mingle with the sort of men she considered marriage-worthy.