shook his head.
‘No news at all,’ he said. ‘Our quarry has gone to ground.’
‘I’m sorry to hear that.’ Granby hesitated and then said delicately, ‘And, if I might enquire, how are your plans progressing with the young lady?’
Nick tossed the letter aside. ‘They are not,’ he said shortly. ‘I am wondering if we should weigh anchor and try another tack. The admiralty wants answers and there are other leads to follow…’ his lips twitched ‘…though none so attractive.’
A knock at the door interrupted them. Nick hurriedly took up his letter and put it away while Granby answered the door. He heard a murmur of voices and turned to see his valet approaching, a folded paper in his hand.
‘A note for you, Captain.’
‘Well.’ A slow grin appeared as he read the missive. ‘Perhaps all is not lost. Miss Shawcross wants to see me. In the garden.’
Nick strode along the gravelled paths until he reached the yew walk. At the far end was a small clearing where a statue of Pan nestled against the surrounding hedge. On either side white-painted benches had been placed for those who wished to rest for a while in this sheltered retreat. Evelina was sitting on one of the benches, reading a letter. As Nick approached she looked up and gave a slight smile. He bowed.
‘You wished to talk to me, Miss Shawcross?’
She gestured towards the opposite bench and Nick sat down.
‘I did indeed, sir.’ Her soft brown eyes rested upon him. ‘You said at our very first meeting that you came here to marry me. Is that truly your intention?’
‘A direct attack,’ he said approvingly. ‘I like that.’
‘You have not answered my question, Captain.’
‘Then, yes. It is indeed my intention, Misss Shawcross.’
Her gaze did not falter. ‘Why?’
Nick’s brows rose. This was blunt indeed. ‘It is time I settled down. My family has been nagging me to do so ever since I came home from sea.’
‘But you know nothing about me.’
He smiled at her. ‘You are beautiful, witty, accomplished—and Sir Benjamin assures me you are an excellent housekeeper. Is that not enough?’
She dropped her gaze, a delicate flush mantling her cheek. ‘But you knew nothing about me when you sought out my grandfather at Tunbridge Wells.’
She raised her eyes again and Nick hesitated. How much should he tell her?
‘I did go to Tunbridge in search of Sir Benjamin,’ he admitted. ‘I planned merely to renew my family’s acquaintance with him. It soon became clear to me that Sir Benjamin was looking for a husband for you.’ A smile tugged at his lips. ‘He seemed to think I might be a suitable candidate.’
‘Do you mean that he suggested it?’ She looked shocked. ‘And you agreed to…to…’
He spread his hands, saying apologetically, ‘This seemed an opportunity not to be missed. I am glad now that I came.’
For a moment she looked delightfully flustered, but she soon recovered. ‘Very well, sir.’ She settled herself more comfortably on the bench and glanced at the papers in her hand. ‘Grandpapa may consider you suitable, but you have yet to convince me!
Nick leaned back and crossed one booted leg over the other. ‘I am at your disposal, ma’am.’
‘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