in a person responsible for bringing up children.
“Please don’t encourage her, Captain,” she murmured as they entered the vestibule. “Or I fear she may take advantage of your good nature.”
“Hush, Miss Marian.” The child raised her forefinger to her lips. “You always tell me not to make noise in church.”
Marian exchanged a glance with Captain Radcliffe that communicated exasperation on her part and barely suppressed amusement on his. Somehow that look made her feel as if she had accidentally wandered into a cozy room with a cheery fire blazing in the hearth.
They made their way into the sanctuary of golden-brown stone, bathed in the glow of sunshine filtered through the stained glass windows. Dolly led the captain up the aisle to the Radcliffe family pew, where he stood back to let “the ladies” enter first. Cissy scooted in at once and Marian followed. Dolly hung back, no doubt to claim her place beside the captain.
Later in the service, when it came time for prayers of thanksgiving, Marian offered a silent one to the Lord for answering her earlier plea.
His reluctant attendance at church had not turned out to be the ordeal he’d feared. Gideon reflected on it the following evening as he consumed his solitary dinner.
He’d been aware of a few hard looks, but most of the parishioners were more welcoming. That reception gave him greater hope that he might be able to get a fair hearing at the inquiry after all. During the service itself, a curious sense of peace had stolen over him as he’d listened to the familiar readings and joined in the hymns and prayers. It had scarcely seemed to matter whether or not God was listening. Surely, there was something worthwhile in a person expressing gratitude for his good fortune and identifying what he wanted in life for himself and others.
For himself, Gideon had only one wish—to have his reputation restored so he would be permitted to resume command of his ship. Had he been guilty of taking the blessings of an honorable reputation and a fulfilling career for granted in the past? If so, then his present difficulties might yield a worthwhile outcome, after all—by reminding him to appreciate all he had achieved.
When the pudding was served, Gideon cast an expectant glance toward the dining room door, half hoping Miss Murray might appear to discuss some matter about the children. He could not stifle an unaccountable pang of disappointment when she did not.
Though he had not been pleased by the governess’s sudden appearance on Saturday evening, he’d soon found himself enjoying her company. At first he’d been reluctant to grant her request to accompany her and the girls to church, but now he was grateful she’d persuaded him.
He’d discovered his young cousins were not quiet the alien beings he’d dreaded, but two small people, each with her own feelings and personality. He could not help but be drawn to the younger one, any more than he could resist a frolicsome kitten that rubbed its head against his hand, hungry for attention.
The elder girl was a good deal more reserved and appeared every bit as wary of him as he was of her. Gideon could hardly fault the child for that since it showed her to be similar to him in temperament.
“Can I get you anything more, Captain?” asked the footman as he removed Gideon’s plate. “Another helping of pudding? More tea?”
Gideon shook his head. “I have had my fill, thank you. More than is good for me I daresay. If I keep on at this rate, my girth may soon rival the Prince Regent’s.”
The young footman strove to suppress a grin but failed. “You won’t be in any danger of that for quite a while, sir. When you first arrived, Mrs. Wheaton said you needed filling out. I reckon she’s made that her mission.”
Though he knew such an exchange between master and servant was more familiar than it should be, Gideon could not bring himself to discourage it. He had opened the door, after all, with his quip about the Regent. Besides, he preferred a little cordial familiarity to the hostile silence with which he’d been treated upon his arrival at Knightley Park.
“When I return to sea, I shall have to send my ship’s cook to Knightley Park so Mrs. Wheaton can train him properly.” Gideon pushed away from the table. “I have no doubt my crew would thank me for it.”
In search of something to occupy him until bedtime, he headed off to the library. He had recently finished the books he’d brought with him, and he was confident he would find some suitable replacement on the well stocked shelves.
Uncertain whether he would find the room lit, Gideon took a candle from the hall table as he passed by. But when he pushed open the library door, he glimpsed the soft glow of firelight from the hearth and the flicker of another candle. It danced wildly as the person holding it gave a violent start when he entered.
Not expecting to find the room occupied, Gideon started, too. A quiver of exhilaration accompanied his surprise when he recognized his young cousins’ governess.
“Forgive me for disturbing you, Miss Murray.” He explained his quest for fresh reading material.
Clearly the young woman did not share his welcome of their unexpected encounter. Her eyes widened in fright and one hand flew to her chest, as if to still her racing heart.
When she answered, her voice emerged high-pitched and breathless. “It is I who should beg your pardon, Captain, for making free with your library.”
She offered a halting explanation of how his late cousin had permitted her the use of it.
“Then, by all means, you must continue,” Gideon assured her. It troubled him that she had feared he would be unwilling to extend her the same courtesy as Cousin Daniel had. “Though I enjoy the pleasures of a good book more than your late master, I have never had the knack of reading more than one at a time, let alone all of the hundreds collected by my family over the years. Having so many books for one person to read strikes me as a singularly inefficient arrangement. I would appreciate your assistance in making better use of this library.”
Miss Murray did not appear to grasp his attempt at levity.
“That is very kind of you, sir.” She bobbed a hasty curtsy. “But I still should not have presumed without asking your permission. If you will excuse me, I shall return at another time when my presence will not disturb you.”
Her eyes darted as if seeking the quickest route to the exit that would give him the widest possible berth. Did she really find him so alarming still?
“You are not disturbing me in the least, Miss Murray,” Gideon insisted, though he knew it was not altogether true. Her presence did affect him, though not in an unpleasant way. “Besides, if one of us must withdraw, it should be me. You were here first, after all, and I believe you have far more claims upon your time than I. If you were to go away now, I doubt you would easily find another opportunity to return.”
“Not very easily perhaps, but—”
“I will hear no buts, Miss Murray. I should feel like the worst kind of tyrant if you left this library empty-handed on my account. Surely you would not want that?”
“Of course not, Captain.”
“Good. Then we are agreed you must stay long enough to choose a book at the very least.”
“If you insist, sir.” Miss Murray reached toward the nearest shelf and pulled out the first book she touched, without even looking at the title. It might have been in Latin, for all she knew, or a sixteenth century treatise on agriculture.
It was clear she wanted to make her escape as quickly as possible. A few days ago Gideon would have wanted the same thing. But having dined with Miss Murray and escorted her and the children to church, he’d discovered he preferred her company to his accustomed solitude.
Was there any way he might detain her there and keep her talking?
Perhaps…
“Before you go, Miss Murray, I hope you will not mind informing me how your pupils are