Free Her Favoured Captain by Francine Howarth Page B

elbow. “Come dear lady, it seems their lordship’s have taken
command, and perchance your jewels will come to light.”
       The lady continued sobbing
whilst being led away, and Therese glanced around for sight of Lt Herne, but
he’d vanished. As they passed through to the vast outer salon leading to the
staircase she spied Lord William in conversation with Lt Herne and other naval
officers.
       Indeed, Lt Herne was correct,
she did feel a little sorry for William Lord Hamilton. It was all very well for
a man of great age to be in possession of a beautiful young wife, but one young
enough to be his daughter was a risqué proposition. As British Envoy to Naples
and state business to conduct, Lord William had many responsibilities, but
surely not so blind as to be unaware of simmering attraction between Emma and
Horatio? Yet, his lordship seemed to bestow great affections upon Nelson, a
strange relationship having developed.
       She cast another fleeting
glance at Lt Herne, the man astute beyond words. Best avoided, Therese, best
avoided .
       Whilst ascending the staircase
opportunity to catch his every movement became too tempting and she glanced
down at him. She instantly wished she had not, for he glanced upward. Their
eyes collided, and despite the distance between them it felt akin to a silent
caress. She could not, must not let such happen again. She must avoid Lt Herne,
at all costs.
       Mrs. FitzroyPalmer ceased
blubbering, and said, “What a foolish, foolish thing to do. What ever possessed
me to think such a delectable creature as that young man could be any thing
other than a rogue?”
       “It happens to all of us,” said
Therese, concern hopefully etched upon her face and sufficiently convincing.
“Such a beautiful necklace, too.”
       “Genuine, Therese, real rubies
and diamonds, not a glass stone amongst ‘em.”
       “I had not thought otherwise.”
       Mrs FitzroyPalmer cast a
tear-laden glance her way. “That’s a pretty pendant you’re wearing, too, and
modest with it.”
       “Of sentimental value, and
thank heaven unlikely to attract the eye of a jewel thief.”
      “Sentimental value is sometimes
greater than monetary worth, and if I am not mistaken a tiger eye. Very rare
amber, indeed.”
       “I confess I am not in the
least given to diamonds and precious coloured stones, I fear I might lose them
or have them stolen.”
       Mrs. FitzroyPalmer laughed:
tears ebbed. “Ah well, I liked the necklace well enough, but I feel sure Mr.
FitzroyPalmer, dear Wesley, will replace it with one equally as beautiful. What
else does he have to squander his money on but I?”
       “Oh, then there’s a Mr . . .”
      “Yes, I know what you’re
thinking,” said Mrs. FitzroyPalmer, as both stepped onto the gallery above
stairs. “Why then would a woman of my years be playing footsy with a young
man?”
       “Well, I wouldn’t presume to
pass   . . .”
        “Perhaps not judge me, but think it utter madness of older woman
besotted by youth and vigour. And, and by jove that young man was well
endowed.”
       “You mean he . . .?”
       Mrs. FitzroyPalmer giggled. “Oh
dear girl, I am always wont to know what I have to look forward to.” The lady
giggled, actually giggled. “Don’t look so surprised, I am a woman of the world,
and not beyond a little pleasure of the vigorous variety.” Therese drew breath,
a band as though tightening across her breasts whilst Mrs. FitzroyPalmer
giggled again. “I do believe I’ve shocked you.”
       “No, not at all, but I think I
may have eaten something that hasn’t agreed with me. I feel quite sick.”
       “To the closet girl, to the
closet,” urged Mrs FitzroyPalmer, pushing her along from behind. “There, there
now,” she said, snatching the screen aside, “head over the pot.”
       She had not been sick in a long
while, and to wretch was mortifying, more so as Mrs FitzroyPalmer’s page held
forth a