Wicked Captain, Wayward Wife

‘We have already established that you are a sailor, and, one cannot deny it, a brave one.’

‘Thank you,’ he said meekly.

‘But you have something of a reputation in town, Captain.’ She stared down at the letter. ‘Last year your name was linked with a Mrs Stringham.’

He blinked. The chit had been checking up on him!

‘We were…friends for a few months, yes.’

‘I understand she is a lady with a somewhat tarnished reputation.’ She shrugged. ‘No doubt much more interesting for you than an ingénue.’

He choked, but she did not seem to notice and was again peering at her list.

‘Then there was Lady Alton.’

‘What of her?’ he asked warily.

‘She was your mistress, was she not? You look shocked, Captain Wylder. I thought you liked the direct attack.’

Nick sat up. By heaven, the wench was teasing him! ‘May I ask how you came by this information, Miss Shawcross?’

She held the letter to her breast. ‘You may ask, but I shall not divulge my sources.’

He leaned forward. ‘And what else do your…sources…say of me?’

She studied the sheets of paper again. ‘Well, there was Miss Brierley from Rochester, many people thought you might offer for her.’

‘What, because I took her driving in the park?’

‘Apparently so,’ she murmured, not raising her eyes from her letter. ‘And Dorothy Chate, the actress, not to mention the opera dancers—’

‘I would much rather we did not mention the opera dancers!’

She regarded him sternly. ‘Since quitting the navy, your life seems to have been one of dissipation, sir.’

He tried to look remorseful. ‘Alas, I am very much in need of a wife to keep me in order.’

‘I am not at all sure that anyone could keep you in order, Captain Wylder. Are you saying that if we were to marry you would give up your dissolute ways?’

‘I would try.’

He gave her a soulful look and noted with satisfaction the smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. She was having difficulty keeping her countenance.

‘I am not at all sure that I believe you.’

‘I fear I am in need of an occupation.’

She turned the page. ‘My correspondent tells me that you have an occupation.’

Nick froze. Now how the devil did she know that?

‘Or you should have one; you should be managing your properties in the north, Captain Wylder, not wasting your time in idle pursuits.’

He breathed again. ‘I would not call looking for a wife an idle pursuit.’

‘Captain Wylder,’ she said seriously, ‘I am not at all sure I am the wife for you.’

‘Miss Shawcross, the more I know of you the more I am convinced that you are the perfect wife for me!’

‘But I am not at all worldly. What I mean is…’ She blushed again, looking so adorable that he wanted to cross the space between them and take her in his arms. ‘What would happen when you grew tired of me?’

When he did not respond she said quietly, ‘I am not quite as naïve as you might think, Captain. I know my parents’ marriage was unusual; they were so much in love they did everything together, as equals.’ She gave a sad little smile. ‘They even died together. I do not expect that, but…’

Nick half-rose from his seat, then sank back down again. He knew that any attempt to comfort her was more likely to frighten her away. ‘But what, Miss Shawcross?’

The colour flared in her cheeks, but she was determined on her course. Her words were almost inaudible. ‘I w-would not want to share you with a mistress.’

Nick took a deep breath. By heaven, he admired her bravery. Now he must honour it with an honest reply. ‘Miss Shawcross, whatever else you may have heard about me, pray believe that I am a gentleman. If we were to marry, I give you my word you would always be treated with respect, and I would do my best to make you happy. I can promise you that I have no mistress hidden away.’ He laughed suddenly. ‘Now what is that look, do you not believe me?’

She glared at him. ‘I do not think you understand, sir.’

‘Then perhaps you can explain.’

He sat back, as she threw him another scorching look. He felt more sure of his ground when she was angry with him.

‘I have always expected Grandpapa to arrange my marriage for me, but I thought it would be a local gentleman. Someone…’

‘Someone safe and staid and boring,’ he put in helpfully.

‘Well…yes.’

He spread his hands. ‘Even the most upright country gentlemen take mistresses, you know.’

‘But they are less likely to have women falling at their feet,’ she retorted. She brandished her letter. ‘My correspondent tells me the ladies in town find you fatally attractive.’

‘Does she indeed?’

‘How do you know it is a woman?’

‘I have an instinct for these things. Does your correspondent find me fatally attractive, too?’

‘Captain Wylder I do not think you are taking this seriously.’

‘But I am! And your grandfather has already spoken to me of this.’

‘He—he has?’

‘Yes.’ Her consternation made him smile. ‘It is a question that would occur to any loving guardian. I have already assured him that, if I take a wife, she will have nothing to fear on that score.’ He paused. ‘Sir Benjamin approves of me, you know. Will you not at least consider my suit?’