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When told of Miss Beryl Angsley’s arrival, Philip bounded down the stairs two at a time, then slowed his pace when his feet hit the foyer floor, not wishing to appear like an eager child. In some ways, it was slightly humiliating to go from being captain of his own ship to having a bedroom in his parents’ home. He’d simply never considered the necessity of buying his own townhouse. Until now.
When he pushed open the drawing room door, Leo nearly tripped him. Dodging between his legs, the cat dashed out of the room, making sure to hiss at him as he passed.
“Hello to you, too,” he muttered, actually feeling pleased to see Robert’s cat back where he belonged.
And there was Beryl.
He found her in a place he could never have imagined she would be when rescuing her from the junk — seated on his parents’ sofa.
“Miss Angsley,” Philip greeted, then glanced toward her maid who’d found a discreet seat by his mother’s potted ferns. He supposed he wasn’t going to be sweeping her into his arms for a kiss.
Beryl rose to her feet, offering him a wry smile, no doubt inwardly laughing at his formality after all they’d been through.
“Captain Carruthers,” she returned in equal formality, holding out her hand so he had to come to her.
Bending his head over her gloved hand, he refrained from kissing it. She was engaged, he reminded himself.
“To what do I owe this pleasure?”
She tilted her head, taking her measure of him, giving him a moment to do the same. She looked damnably well. Refreshed, glossy hair with not a grain of rice in sight, and a gown so lovely and well-fitted, it made him wonder what she could possibly wear to dress up for an important occasion.
“I simply thought you might be missing Leo, and he, you,” she said at last.
He grinned. “Yes, I could see how much he missed me as he ran by.”
“At our home, he was likely to get sat upon or tripped over. I have five siblings, you may recall. Some very young still.”
“I believe I saw one or two of them the night of your kidnapping.” He recalled crying children in the hallway and on the stairs.
“My second kidnapping,” she corrected with a grimace.
“Hopefully your last.”
“Dear God, yes! I have no desire ever to set foot on a ship again. At least, not one going to the Orient.”
Inside, he felt a little sheen of optimism evaporate. How ridiculous he had still thought she might want to sail away with him to ports unknown. It was no life for a lady. Hell, it was hardly a life for him!
“Completely understandable,” he agreed, even though, with the lack of anything interesting to do here in England, he was certain he would set sail as soon as an opportunity arose. It was either that or learn to sheer sheep.
“Thank you for returning him. When I do launch the Robert again, I believe Leo will want to be aboard. She’s currently in drydock undergoing a few repairs.”
Beryl nodded. “So, you are sailing away again?”
“Indubitably,” he said. Why did she ask? Did she wish him to stay? If she did and if she wasn’t getting married—
“That’s the best thing for you,” she said, interrupting his fantasies.
“Yes.”
They stared at one another.
“I shouldn’t have kissed you in the alley,” Philip blurted.
Her eyes widened, and she glanced over her shoulder at her maid. It was probably the most exciting thing the girl had heard in hours. Perhaps Beryl didn’t recall her cousin had been standing there at the time, as well.
For his part, he had kissed her as if he’d had a right to display his relief and his affection, and it had given him false hope she could be his for the taking.
She was already taken.
And she’d been in a state of shock, making his kiss even less appropriate. He’d taken advantage of her.
“It was not the gentlemanly thing to do,” he clarified.
“True, Captain, but I never thought of you as a gentleman.”
That hurt, and his expression must have shown it.
“Oh, dear,” she said. “That came out entirely wrong.
***
BERYL INWARDLY CURSED herself for her own stupidity.
“What I meant to say is, when I think of you, if I were to think of you, not that I am, of course, but if I do, at all, I think of you as a man of adventure. Not a pirate, certainly, not after seeing real pirates, but as a sea captain ready for daring actions, like Odysseus, himself, whose story I was reading in your cabin.”
“Deeds of derring-do,” Philip muttered.
“Precisely,” she agreed, hoping he was not offended, for she had meant no offense. Quite the contrary, she much preferred his behavior to any man she knew. Even Arthur, though he had been the very embodiment of gentlemanly concern for days now.
Cloying, suffocating, gentlemanly concern. It was only his dislike of cats that had stopped him accompanying her today. He couldn’t bear to be confined in a carriage with one.
“Slinky, evil animal!” he’d declared when he first found Leo seated beside her on the couch. And he’d shooed him off and out of the parlor.
She supposed, after they got married, she would get a dog, for she quite liked having a companion.
“I’m glad we had a better outcome than that of Odysseus,” the captain reminded her. “He was away from home twenty years as I recall.”
“It wasn’t all unpleasant,” she mused. “He had Kalypso.” Instantly, her thoughts turned to descriptions of the goddess luring the captain to her secluded grotto and her bed, and her cheeks heated.
Philip’s eyes seemed to darken, if that were possible. She’d seen it before, each time before he reached for her and pulled her close.
Would he do so now?
After his kiss in the alley, Beryl had waited for him each night, hoping he would scale her home again, however he’d managed it, and sneak into her room. She wanted to revisit the sensations she’d experienced under his touch. Moreover, she wanted to return them, causing him to feel the same pleasure. And, dammit, she wanted to be kissed so her whole body caught fire.
She’d waited in vain, half hoping he was going to declare for her, perhaps even ask her father, who seemed to admire Captain Carruthers, for permission to engender a proposal. Alas, he hadn’t.
Thus, she’d come to him, with the flimsy excuse of returning Leo, who’d seemed perfectly happy, except for Arthur scooting him constantly out of the way with the toe of his Hessian boot.
Moreover, she’d worn one of her favorite peach-pink gowns. Still, all Philip had done was apologize for the last time he kissed her.
As if it had been a mistake instead of an act of passion. Maybe even of love?
“Kalypso was a diversion,” the captain pointed out. “A magical time, but one that could only happen while away from home. Odysseus had Penelope, his true love, waiting for him.”
He paused and added, “As you had Lord Wharton.”
She swallowed. So now she was Odysseus, Philip was Kalypso, and Arthur was the long-suffering Penelope?
Thinking about it that way made her head — and heart — hurt. For it seemed Captain Carruthers, as Kalypso with Odysseus, had decided to let her go to get on with her ordinary, commonplace, humdrum life in England.
There was nothing she could do about that. If he wanted her for himself, he could certainly have her, and she thought by her actions in her bedroom and by allowing his kiss in the alley, she had made that fact abundantly clear.
She could not, however, compete with the lure of a free and exciting life at sea. At least he respected her enough not to try to turn her into his Jenny with a cracked teacup — was that what he’d called women in port all those months ago in practically their first conversation? Whatever he’d been talking about, she was certain it didn’t apply to ladies of her class.
“I must be going,” she said, suddenly realizing the futility of her mission. Also, it smacked of desperation, which was the opposite of how she wanted to portray herself. Besides, she wasn’t desperate. She had a perfectly good fiancé, as she kept reminding herself.
Philip frowned. “Forgive my manners. We’ve spent the entire time standing, and I didn’t even offer you tea.”
“No, but I came to give you Leo, and I have done so.”
He nodded. “Very well. I thank you for my cat. What’s more, I’m glad to see you are well and didn’t sustain any injuries during either of your abductions.”
“Thanks to you.” Even if he didn’t want her, cracked or not, she owed him her life and would always be grateful.
Nodding to her maid to follow, Beryl let the captain escort her to the front door. Turning in the foyer, she noticed Leo was sitting halfway up the stairs, and her fingers itched to go to him and give him a last pet. She resisted.
“I suppose I may never see you again,” she said to him, feeling as if she might choke on the emotion her own words caused to well in her throat.
He shook his head, a small smile crossing his handsome face.
“Don’t be ridiculous, Miss Angsley. I have saved your life, which means I am responsible for it forever.”
“Does it?” That cheered her more than a little. “So, if I’m ever in need of you—”
“I’ll be at your service, Miss Angsley.”
She was still pondering their encounter a few days later when an envelope came from Buckingham Palace addressed to her!
Upon opening it, her heart began to quicken its pace.
“Father,” she yelled as she hurried through the house, behaving more like one of her younger sisters or brothers.
“Yes, dear daughter?” he asked, rising from his desk in alarm.
“We are going to Westminster Abbey to watch Captain Carruthers get his knighthood!”
***
FOR THE NEXT TWO WEEKS, Beryl could hardly contain her excitement. That she had played a part in Captain Carruthers being invested with a knighthood was quite astounding. True, all she’d done was get herself kidnapped and he’d done the rest, but still, it wouldn’t be happening without her.
What’s more, it gave her an excuse to see him again.
What’s more, because of their gratitude, her parents were coming, and because of his love for her, Lord Wharton was coming. Or was it because he’d never been close to the queen and kept saying what an honor it would be?
“I would think the biggest honor would be thanking Captain Carruthers for saving my life,” Beryl pointed out, even though she couldn’t really fault Arthur for his excitement. After all, Queen Victoria was the most beloved monarch anyone could recall.
It took Beryl and her mother a week to decide on their clothing. Another week to change their minds and then a few days more to consider their hairstyles.
In the end, none of it mattered, for all eyes were on the queen wearing the mantle and insignia of the order of knighthood she’d chosen for the captain, as well as on her dashing prince consort. And when not staring at them in all their regal magnificence, everyone’s eyes were drawn to the abbey, itself, as they strolled along the nave, with its soaring, uplifting ceiling, seeming to reach Heaven.
Beryl knew she could be wearing the hated rice sack and no one would notice. Which was as it should be. As for the captain, he looked every inch a knight-errant as the queen tapped his shoulder with a sword and declared him to be a Knight Grand Cross of the Most Honourable Order of the Bath.
At which point, Beryl heard the red-headed Scot seated nearby, whom she recognized as the first mate of the Robert, repeat the words “Order of the Bath” with a decidedly sardonic tone.
Arthur leaned close and whispered, “They used to purify the knight in a bath and put him to bed to dry.”
He said it so seriously while uttering such comical words, Beryl had to clamp her hand to her mouth to keep from laughing. Unfortunately, Philip glanced her way at that moment, and she hoped he didn’t think she found him humorous. She most certainly didn’t. She thought he looked more striking and had more dash-fire than anyone else there, including Prince Albert and all the other knights who’d congregated for the investiture.
Then the prince consort pinned the insignia on Philip’s robes, before moving down the line of two other men also receiving the honor that day.
Before Beryl knew it, it was over, and they were outside in the watery sunshine. It was only then she saw Leo, slipping out through the abbey’s massive west doors when someone conveniently opened them, traipsing lightly on his paws toward where they were gathered.
For the second time that day, she wanted to laugh heartily.
“You seem very amused by my knighthood, Miss Angsley,” Philip said, his first utterance of the day said directly to her.
“Oh, Captain, I mean Sir Carruthers,” she corrected herself, watching him blush slightly, “it is not your knighthood that amused me, I promise. I think it well-earned and am honored to be here. But only see who was in the abbey watching.”
And she gestured to where Leo stood on his stocky legs observing their group.
Rufus, who stood with Mr. Churley, started to laugh in earnest.
“From what I hear,” he said, “the bloody cat should’ve received a knighthood as well.”
They all chuckled, except Arthur, who griped, “I think the animal rather lowers the solemnity of the occasion.” And he sniffed.
Beryl rolled her eyes, feeling a little embarrassed by the man she would soon marry, a mere few weeks away now.
The captain — for even though he was now a knight, she would always think of him thusly — ignored Arthur. Turning to his proud parents standing beside him, he remarked, “I think Robert sent the cat in his place today.”
His mother teared up and his father shook his hand. His two delightful siblings whom Beryl had only just met, both a few years younger than herself, hugged their brother.
Beryl’s heart ached thinking this might be the last time she was in the captain’s presence. More than anything, she wished she could put her arms around him, draw his head down to hers, and kiss him.
Of course, she couldn’t do anything of the kind. For the next time she was in the house of God, it would be on her wedding day.