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

old man is…what he is.”
    Jamie regarded his friend. Weariness once again deepened the premature lines on his face, and his pale, blotchy skin gave evidence of many late nights and much drinking. But a soft new light shone in Moberly’s eyes, encouraging Jamie. He felt a pressing need to examine its cause.
    “Before Lord Bennington came in, we were having a discussion—”
    “Ah, yes.” Moberly breathed out a lengthy sigh and tugged his covers up to his chin. “About my new Father…” He yawned, then winced, perhaps in pain. “We must talk about that soon….” His voice faded, and his eyelids drooped.
    The young valet hovered near, so Jamie walked to the door. “I’ll leave him in your good care.”
    More than exhausted, he trudged up the staircase to his own chamber, where in spite of his best efforts to keep quiet, he woke Quince.
    “Did you learn anything?” Quince jumped up from the trundle bed and inspected Jamie’s head wound, tsking his concern.
    “No.” Jamie waved him off and walked to the window to close the heavy velvet drapes. “The Lord seems to have altered my mission for the time being.” He watched his friend, whose clownish smile hinted at some secret. “All right, then, out with it.”
    Quince cleared his throat, obviously pleased with himself. “If you want to learn what’s going on with the aristocracy, it pays to fraternize with their servants.”
    Jamie threw himself on the four-poster bed, neglecting even to remove his shoes. “Brilliant. Absolutely brilliant.” He rolled over and burrowed beneath the counterpane. “That’s why you took leave of your considerable properties in Massachusetts and are acting as my valet.” Sleep beckoned, but he could feel Quince tugging off the heavy footwear. This business of having a body servant had its advantages.
    “Ah,” Quince said, “but when one discovers where the master keeps his important papers…and the best time to access them—”
    Jamie bolted up in the bed, fully awake and fully aware of the lump on the back of his head. He grunted, but shook off the pain and punched Quince’s arm. “Good work, man. Tell me everything. How do we get to them?”

Chapter Nine
    “D o listen to me, Robert.” Marianne mustered the crossest look she could manage while feeling so happy. “It is far too soon for you to be riding again.” Seated at the smaller of two oak tables in the sunny breakfast room, she turned to Jamie, who stood serving himself at the buffet. His dashing appearance in his newest gray riding clothes pleased her very much. “Captain Templeton, you must speak reason into my brother’s barely healed head.”
    “Nonsense.” Across the table from her, Robert waved his hand in a dismissive gesture. “I have lain about for nearly two weeks while the weather gets warmer, the grass becomes greener and everyone who’s anyone is out and about.” He popped a bite of toast and jam into his mouth.
    The twinkle in her brother’s eyes heartened Marianne. He truly did seem to have recovered, as evidenced by his voracious appetite. He would soon regain those few pounds lost during his convalescence.
    “Then at least ride in the carriage with Miss Kendall and me.” Marianne tilted her head toward Grace, taking in the scent of her lavender perfume.
    “Lady Marianne,” Jamie said, “the surgeon has given Mr. Moberly permission to resume his activities as he wishes. Doubtless he’ll be happy to be out in the fresh air.”
    As he took his place beside her, amusement lifted one corner of his lips, and again Marianne was encouraged. And even more in love with him than before. Since Robert’s injury, Jamie had spent hours with her brother every day, discussing Scriptures and other pleasant topics. The result was that, in these recent days, Robert had made every effort to be at the supper table on time, had borne up under Papa’s comments well and had completely stopped drinking spirits—all due to Jamie’s influence. If the