The Captain's Frozen Dream

‘Come with me.’ He reached across the table and took her hand, drawing her around it to the door leading to the hallway.

She barely had time to set the sketchbook and pencil down as he led her into the narrow, wood-panelled passage, his grip as startling as his speed. ‘Where are we going?’

‘I’ve thought of something else which might help you.’ He pulled her along the shadowed hallway towards his study.

She hurried to keep up with his long strides, holding tight to his hand, giddy and terrified at the same time. This was how it’d been before, when they would come home from searching for fossils, then seclude themselves in his study to pour over books and identify what they’d discovered.

Inside the study, he released her hand and made for a bookshelf. ‘There’s a bird in Australia, similar in shape and size to the ostrich. I made a sketch of it when I was there.’

Conrad knelt down before the bottom shelf and plucked out a book. His back arched gracefully beneath his coat as he bent over one of his old journals, the back of his neck just visible above his collar beneath his neatly trimmed hair. He rose and handed her the open journal, revealing a poorly drawn bird similar to an ostrich. ‘If you can find a better illustration of this animal and its bones, and include it in your paper, it could bolster your case for the creature being some type of bird.’

He moved to stand behind her and look over her shoulder at the drawing. The heat of his cheek was so close to hers it nearly made her drop the book. It was too much like the last time they’d been in here two years ago, when he’d showed her the maps of the Arctic and the route he intended to take. The map she’d drawn from his description was still tucked in her old sketchbook, the timeline faithfully followed by her while he was gone, then worried and fretted over when he hadn’t returned, until so much time had passed, she couldn’t bear to look at it any more.

Yet he was here, close and as enthusiastic as ever about one of her ideas. The faint spark of hope she’d experienced when he’d climbed the hill yesterday rose up again, sending a more powerful thrill through her than any unknown creature could ever create. ‘What if an animal like the one you purchased still exists and lives secluded in the north?’

‘I don’t believe they do.’ He waved her over to the globe near the wall. He spun it around to show North America.

‘I’ve been this far and two others have been here.’ He laid his finger near the top. ‘There’s nothing there but ice. Captain Ross saw evidence of caribou, but only up until this point. None of the Inuit I’ve spoken with have ever mentioned an animal like the one in the conservatory.’

‘I’ll need more proof than hearsay.’

Conrad stared at the globe as though it were a nautical chart on which he was plotting his course. In the look, she glimpsed something of the optimistic man who’d escorted her over Gorgon’s deck, describing in detail his plans for the coming adventure, not the despairing and acerbic man who’d faced her in here the other night.

‘Etienne Brule explored Canada for years. If something like the creature still roamed the north, he, or the natives he lived with, would have noted it. The Naturalist Society library contains an impressive collection of his works. If we left for London in the morning, we could be there by the afternoon.’

Her eagerness to prove the creature didn’t still live, and was in some way related to birds, paled under the reality of stepping back through the Naturalist Society’s grand front entrance. ‘I’m not sure I’m ready to return so soon.’

‘Yes, you are.’ He wrapped his solid fingers around hers. ‘I know it.’

She squeezed his hand and a faint whisper of the elation she’d once experienced with him on the Downs passed between them. All she needed to do was follow him, just like before, and she wanted to. It was a prospect as alarming as descending into a very deep mine to dig for fossils, but strangely enough, with him, she wasn’t afraid of the danger. ‘Yes, we’ll leave in the morning.’

‘Good girl.’ He slid one arm around her waist, resting it on the small of her back as he drew her closer. She slipped the journal out from between them, allowing it to dangle from her hand as she relaxed against him, tilting her face up to his. The desire burning in his brown eyes proved as mesmerising now as the first time they’d kissed. She wanted to believe in him and their love and everything he promised, just as she had during all the lonely nights when she’d cried herself to sleep with grief. Only he wasn’t dead, he was here, alive, warm and so achingly close.

He leaned in closer until the faint ring of gold in the centre of his eyes became clear. The journal dropped to the floor with a thud at Katie’s feet as all resistance to him faded with the subtle pressure of his fingers against her back. She laid her hand on his shoulder, forgetting everything except the shift of his hips against hers and the flex of his muscles beneath her palm.

A soft knock on the wall near the door echoed through the room. Both of them turned to see Mr Turner, the mine foreman, standing there, hat in his hand, his eyes focused on the floor as though it were embedded with gold coins.

Conrad let go of Katie and she stepped back, her heart racing as much from the near kiss as being discovered by someone in such a compromising position.

‘Yes, Mr Turner?’ Conrad asked, no hint of embarrassment colouring his words.

Of course he didn’t need to worry, he was a man. Little could touch him while the slightest whisper might further damage her already tarnished reputation, and no amount of support from Conrad or the scientific community could salvage it. Katie picked up the journal, her confidence and faith in Conrad wavering. It’d been wrong to be intimate in a place where anyone could stumble upon them. Mr Turner might be a simple foreman, but Katie knew how little time it took for stories from the common man to find their way into the drawing rooms of polite society.

‘Captain Essington, we found something in the mine,’ the thick-necked foreman explained. ‘Miss Linton wasn’t interested in seeing such things while you were away. Now you’ve returned, I must know if we should dig it out and bring it to you or leave it where it is.’

Katie clutched the journal to her chest, trilling her fingers as though the foreman had brought the artefact for her to feel. After her father’s death, the Whitemans Green foreman had barred her from the pit, afraid she might meet with an accident, too. It’d left her with only the Downs to scour for fossils, but, while she’d collected some interesting pieces, none could match those entombed in the slate.

Conrad cocked a smile at her as a thrill crackled between them. ‘Shall we go and see it?’

‘We shall.’

* * *

Conrad guided the gig over the bumpy road leading from Heims Hall to the mine. He slid a sideways glance at Katie who sat beside him in the high seat. The deep green of her sturdy walking dress highlighted the apples of her cheeks, which glowed pink with the cool air. Her aqua eyes shone bright with the same excitement which had graced her beautiful face before they’d been interrupted in his study.

He flicked the reins over the horse’s back, making the beast increase its pace. It heartened him to think he could draw from her as much emotion as the bones, though he envied the old creatures for the current smile decorating her full lips. It was only the second time he’d enjoyed the simple pleasure of seeing her happy since coming home.

They came around a sharp bend in the road and the gig tilted to one side as they made the turn. Katie leaned hard against Conrad’s arm to keep from tumbling out until the vehicle rocked back upright.

‘The bone has been buried for ages, we needn’t risk our lives rushing to see it,’ Katie chided with a half-laugh.

The wheel struck a small rut and her hand shot out to grasp his thigh.

‘I wouldn’t call it a risk.’ He flung her a teasing smile. She pulled her hand away and grasped the edge of the leather seat. ‘And if we don’t hurry, we’ll lose the daylight.’

The October sun was already low along the horizon, stretching out the shadows of trees to cover the road and fields. In the steady pulse of the horse’s hooves and the sharp scent of dry earth and grass, Conrad felt something of his old self, the one who still believed he could and would accomplish anything he set his mind to. It was as big a comfort as Katie’s unconscious decision to grasp him for support and their near kiss. It meant everything he’d been through hadn’t buried the best parts of him. It offered a glimmer of hope for his future and Katie’s.

Her willingness to come to London with him was another. He couldn’t dally here in the country much longer and hope to keep Mr Barrow’s support, assuming he still possessed it. If Mr Barrow set his mind on Conrad’s ruin, as he had with Captain Ross, then all Conrad’s influence with the Naturalist Society would vanish and with it Katie’s hopes. Conrad shifted his feet on the boards, tugging one rein to guide the horse down the right path. His decisions had broken and maimed enough men already, he hated to think they might do more damage to Katie.

The horse began to slow and Conrad snapped the reins, urging the animal on faster, feeling like a fraud for entertaining his fears while he insisted Katie fight hers. Nothing with Mr Barrow had happened yet and he refused to let his worries undermine him or her. Whatever waited for him in London, he would face it as he did all his challenges and with Katie by his side.

They crested the hill and the narrow buildings of the mine came into view. Conrad tugged on the reins and slowed the horse as it trotted over the long drive leading to the open hole in the earth. The men were leaving for the day, making their way down the short hill towards the now-quiet chimneys where the cartfuls of slate were crushed and burned to create the lime needed for construction in London.

Mr Turner and a few of his men waited beside a tall ladder leading down into the pit. They removed their hats as Conrad pulled the gig to a stop in front of them. He jumped out, but before he could help Katie down, she was already on her feet and coming to join him in front of the men. One miner raised a curious eyebrow at this blatant display of female independence, but he was deferential enough to Conrad’s position as lord of the manor and his employer to remain silent.

‘Where is it?’ Conrad asked the foreman.

‘Just down there.’ He pointed to another ladder perched along the mine wall, not too far from the main ladder. ‘The ramp for the mules is on the other side. We can go down that way.’

Across the wide pit the ramp sloped into the grey earth. It wasn’t far as the crow flies, but reaching it meant walking the wide circumference of the mine.

‘We’re already losing the light and walking will take time. The ladder will do just as well as the ramp,’ Katie insisted, making for the wood.

The man looked to Conrad, waiting to see if there would be a disagreement but Conrad merely shrugged, then moved to step between her and the ladder.

‘Let me go first.’ Before she could protest, he gripped the top pole and swung himself around to catch the rung, sliding more than climbing to the bottom. He hopped off, looking up past the layers of jagged rocks to usher Katie to follow.

While Mr Turner held the top, Conrad stayed beneath Katie as she descended, ready to catch her should she fall. She managed the ladder with the agility of an experienced rigging monkey, except no man on his crew moved with such tempting grace. Her hips shifted from side to side as she took each rung and her cotton dress swung in time to her steps. As the fabric swayed, it revealed a teasing length of black stocking and a shock of white thigh just above it.

Conrad admired the hint of flesh and the memories it conjured of another evening like this one, a week before he’d left for the Arctic, when the two of them had come here after dark, lanterns in hand, to search through the rocks. He flexed his fingers, remembering the curve of her calf beneath his palm as he’d reached up to slide his hand beneath her skirts and caress the derrière hidden beneath her dress. She’d stopped in her descent and he’d waited for her to kick him away. Instead, she’d met his bold gesture with an inviting smile, dropping down from the ladder into his arms with a kiss as searing as her flesh against his.

The length of him burned with the memory of her pressed beneath him against the wall of the mine as he’d caressed her exposed thigh resting against his hips. They’d teased each other to near desperation, eager in their desire to cling to one another and forget his coming departure. He’d been careful with her, tender but restrained, satisfying her as he denied himself, not wanting to leave her with child when the dangers of his mission lingered so close. Though he’d been cavalier back then about dying, he’d known the risks, but with her breath heavy in his ear, her body trembling against his, he’d believed there’d be many more nights to indulge in the full pleasure of her when he returned.

Conrad stepped back, attempting to shield himself from the tempting hint of her legs and the heat it sent ripping through him as she manoeuvred the last few rungs. She wouldn’t greet his touch with such enthusiasm today, no matter how much he needed the comfort of her embrace.

Humiliation as much as desire burned through him. He shouldn’t need or want her, especially if she didn’t want him, but it wasn’t simply lust driving his pursuit, but the craving for peace. The night before last, when she’d clasped his hand on the back of the horse, it had stilled the trembles which had plagued him since his rescue. In the study today, with her breasts pressed against his chest, all the glories of his past exploits and all the hurtful words of that night had faded away. There’d only been her and the glimmer of love which had carried him through so many dark, Arctic nights.

Katie hopped off the last rung with a wide, exhilarated smile Conrad could feel in his core. The brisk breeze caught a strand of her hair and whipped it across her face. Conrad reached out and tucked it behind the curve of her small ear, though he wanted to wrap the gold curl around his finger, bury his face in the softness of it and make them both forget the past and the present.