“Then what is the difficulty?”
She might as well confess and hope the captain would be as forgiving with her as he had of the clumsy serving maid. Marian inhaled a deep breath and forged ahead. “I’m afraid I thought, sir…that is…I presumed… You did tell me I should keep the girls from disturbing you. I was afraid we might disrupt one of your walks, or their noise from outdoors might bother you while you were trying to rest or read.”
“I see.” He flinched slightly, as if she had injured an unhealed wound but he was determined not to let her see the pain it caused. “I suppose my reputation made you fear I would have them flogged for it.”
He must have overheard her talking to the footmen. Marian scrambled to recall exactly what she’d said. If the captain had heard only part of their exchange, might he think she was spreading malicious gossip about him?
“Nothing like that, sir!” she cried, though her stricken conscience forced her to confess, “Though I was worried you might send the girls away from Knightley Park.”
Captain Radcliffe gave a rueful nod that seemed to excuse her suspicions. “I fear you and I have gotten off on the wrong foot, Miss Murray. For that I take full responsibility. In future, feel free to do with the children whatever you were accustomed to before I arrived. Proceed as if I am not here. All I ask is that you not seek me out. I have no experience with children and, as you have seen, no knack for getting on with them.”
Perhaps not, but in spite of that he had managed to catch Dolly’s fancy. In her forthright innocence, the child must have responded to something in him that had eluded Marian.
“Does that include the music room, sir?” she asked. “It can be irksome to hear a great many wrong notes struck on the pianoforte.”
After only a slight hesitation the captain nodded gamely. “It is difficult to learn anything of value without making mistakes.”
His assurance made Marian more conscious than ever what a grave error she had committed in her judgment of him.
“Thank you, Captain.” She dropped him a curtsy that she hoped would convey an apology as well as gratitude. “I’m sure the girls will be very pleased to enjoy greater liberty.”
He replied with a stiff bow. “I am only sorry they were ever deprived of it.”
The captain made it sound as if that were his fault, yet Marian knew which of them was more to blame. Perhaps it was the burden of her misjudgment that made her more self-conscious than ever in Captain Radcliffe’s presence. A blush seemed to hide in the flesh of her cheeks, ready to flame out at any second.
“I was just on my way to the music room to fetch a song book. If you will excuse me, I must finish my errand and get back to the nursery before the girls wonder what has become of me.”
“By all means,” he replied. “Do not let me detain you.”
Marian made another curtsy, then hurried away, torn between eagerness to escape his presence and a strange inclination to linger.
“Miss Murray.”
The sound of her name on his lips made her turn back swiftly, as if some part of her had anticipated the summons. “Sir?”
He hesitated for an instant, making her wonder if he had not intended to call out. “Thank you for speaking up on my behalf to those young men. I only hope I will have as able an advocate to defend me when the Admiralty convenes its inquiry.”
The blush that had been lying in wait now flared in Marian’s cheeks. “I don’t deserve your gratitude. I wish I could claim I have kept an open mind about you and not let my opinion be influenced by reports I’ve heard…or read. But I’m afraid that would not be true.”
Captain Radcliffe gave a rueful nod, as if her confession grieved him a little but did not surprise him. “If your mind was not fully open, neither was it altogether closed. May I ask what altered your opinion of me?”
His question flustered Marian even more. She could not bring herself to admit eavesdropping on his exchange with Bessie over the broken china. “I…I’m not certain, Captain. Perhaps it was hearing Frederick and Wilbert talking that made me realize I hadn’t given you a fair chance. I reckon it’s easier to see our own faults in others.”
“Perhaps so, but it is not so easy to admit those faults and alter our conduct accordingly.” A note of approval warmed his words and went a long way toward absolving Marian’s shame over her earlier actions.
She was about to thank him for understanding and head away again when Captain Radcliffe continued, “I can assure you the nonsense being written about me in the newspapers is entirely without foundation. I never laid a hand on that poor lad, nor did I drive him to do away with himself on account of my harsh treatment.”
What made her believe him so immediately and completely? Marian could not be certain. Was it only guilt over her prior misjudgment of him or was it something more? Even at first, when she’d thought him a strict, uncaring tyrant, she had not been able to deny his air of integrity.
“I believe you, Captain.” She strove to infuse her words with sincere faith.
She recalled how it felt to be unfairly accused and disbelieved, and how much it had helped to have even one person take her side. The image of her loyal friend, Rebecca Beaton, rose in Marian’s mind, unleashing a flood of gratitude, affection and longing. Rebecca now lived in the Cotswolds, more than a hundred miles to the south. Though the two corresponded as often as they could afford, they had not seen one another since going their separate ways after they’d left school.
Captain Radcliffe’s voice broke in on her wistful thoughts. “I appreciate your loyalty, Miss Murray, considering how little I have done to earn it. I hope the board of inquiry will render a decision to justify your faith in me.”
“When will this board hear your case, sir?” Though duty urged her to cut their conversation short and return to the nursery at once, Marian could not quell her curiosity.
The captain replied with a shrug and a sigh of frustration. “Not soon enough to suit me, of that you can be sure. Probably not until after the New Year at this rate. In the meantime, I am forbidden to speak publicly about the matter. I must remain silent while the newspapers make me out to be some sort of heartless monster. All I want is the opportunity to prove my innocence so I can return to active duty.”
“I’ll pray for you, Captain.” Marian wished there was more she could do. “That the inquiry be called soon and that your name will be cleared once and for all.”
“Why…er…thank you, Miss Murray,” he replied with the air of someone reluctantly accepting an unwelcome gift. “Though I doubt your prayers will avail much.”
His reaction surprised and rather dismayed her. “Do you not believe in God then?”
How could that be? He had treated her more charitably than many people who’d claimed to be pious Christians.
Captain Radcliffe considered her question a moment, then replied with quiet solemnity. “One cannot spend as much time as I have at sea and not come to believe in a powerful force that created the universe.”
Scarcely realizing what she was doing, Marian exhaled a faint breath of relief. Why in the world should it matter to her what the man believed? “But you just said…”
“It is not so much a contradiction as you suppose.” The corner of his straight, firm mouth arched ever so slightly. Yet that one small alteration quite transformed his face, warming and softening its stern, rugged contours. “What I cannot imagine is that such a being knows or cares about my trivial concerns any more than the vast ocean cares for one insignificant ship that floats upon it.”
No wonder the captain seemed so profoundly solitary, Marian reflected, if he did not believe anyone cared about him…not even his Maker.
“Your concerns