Free The Captain's Lady by Louise M. Gouge Page A

about at the occupants. Rage rode on his wrinkled brow, and his lips curled in a snarl.
    “ What is going on in here?”

Chapter Eight
    M arianne stood like a shield in front of Robert’s bed. Behind her, she heard his quiet groan, the sound of a man wounded deep within his heart. She had no doubt that if Papa had entered the room one minute sooner, her brother’s immortal soul would still be in danger, perhaps lost forever.
    “Robert was stabbed and robbed by footpads last night.” She grabbed a quick, quiet breath that she might appear calm. “If not for Captain Templeton, he would have died.”
    Papa stared at her as if she were crazy. “Footpads, you say? Common street ruffians dared to assault a son of mine?” He strode toward the bed. “Move aside, daughter.” His eyes blazed as he inspected Robert from head to toe as he would a piece of furniture. “Well, boy, are you going to live?”
    Marianne saw a flash of anger on Jamie’s face—fiery eyes and lips clamped shut. But she moved close to Papa and slipped her hand in his, hoping her presence might soften him. Robert’s eyelids drooped with feigned laziness, and his lips formed a smirk, the bored expression he wore when Papa was present.
    “I suppose I must live,” her brother muttered. “If only to show my gratitude to Templeton here. ’Twould be deuced bad-mannered of me to pop off after all his trouble.”
    Papa looked across the bed at Jamie. “Are you injured?” His eyes blazed.
    Jamie shrugged and returned a crooked grin that caused Marianne’s heart to skip. “I believe we did more damage than we received, my lord.”
    “Ha!” Papa fisted his free hand and pummeled the air. “That’s the spirit.” He looked at Robert again. “Do plan to survive as best you can. With these despicable wars going on, I do not have time for a funeral.”
    Marianne thought she detected a tiny crack in Papa’s voice, but perhaps it was wishful thinking.
    “Marianne.” He patted her hand. “You and Miss Kendall are dismissed. I commend your interest in your brother’s welfare, but in the future, leave such ministrations to the servants.”
    She bit her bottom lip to keep from responding with anger. This was the closest to scolding her Papa ever came, but it was inconsequential in light of Robert’s tragedy.
    “Yes, Papa.” She nudged past him and bent to kiss her brother’s cheek. “I love you, dear one. Please rest until you are healed.” The responding tear in the corner of his eye nearly undid her, and she hurried from the room to hide her own tears.
     
    If Jamie had held the slightest scruple against spying on Lord Bennington, it just vanished. No decent man should treat a son so callously, no matter how that son behaved. But, like their king, these English aristocrats seemed to think their ranks and titles granted them the right to use all other beings in any manner they chose. From everything Jamiehad seen, he could only conclude that, instead of seeing Moberly as a son to nurture and guide, Bennington had let him grow up like a weed and then despised him for it.
    “Captain Templeton.” His tone sounding almost jovial, the earl spoke across the bed as if Moberly were not there. “Lady Bennington has asked my permission to give a ball in your honor. She says your dancing master has given his approval for you to participate in some of the less complex dances. What do you say?”
    Remember why you are here . Swallowing his bitterness on behalf of Moberly, Jamie forced a smile and a bow. “I would be honored, my lord.”
    “Very good. Now, I am off to Whitehall.” The earl looked at Moberly with a bland expression. “See if you can keep my son from doing further damage to himself.”
    “Yes…my lord.”
    Bennington clearly did not notice Jamie’s clenched teeth, for he strode from the room with his head held high, wearing his importance like a crown.
    Moberly chuckled softly. “Let it go, Templeton. That’s what I have to do. The