Page 18 of The Captain’s Valentine (The “Other” Trents #3)

Harrison had hoped for a private word with Perdita to express how much he cared for her…loved her. That intention was immediately put aside when he noted the large gathering in Felding’s parlor.

“Captain Harrison, how can we ever thank you for saving Perdita from that woman?”

Lady Felding stated.

He did not want anyone’s gratitude, simply Perdita’s heart, yet he clearly could not ask for that. Not with so many witnesses. “It is not necessary. I am just glad that I happened by when I did.”

“You were not injured, were you?”

Perdita asked. “I recall very little after you hauled her away from me and my brother began torturing my wound.”

Surely, he did not…

Dr. Valentine glowered at his sister. “I was treating your wound, which required a proper cleaning before I stitched it. Though it may have felt like torture, you know that it was not.”

Sometimes the treatment was worse than receiving the injury. He’d suffered enough mishaps on the ship and in his youth to know that to be true.

“You are recovered?” he asked.

“Yes.”

She smiled brightly, except there was a dullness in her blue eyes, which he suspected was lingering pain. It would likely be a few days before she was without discomfort and he wished more than anything that he could take her pain from her.

“Would you care for a cup of tea, Captain Trent?”

Lady Felding asked.

“Or brandy,”

Felding said before he could respond.

Harrison looked at Perdita, sitting there, lovely as ever, blonde curls tumbled about her shoulders, pale complexion, full coral lips…and a white bandage around her arm. “Brandy, please.”

Had it been a man that had attacked her, Harrison would have seen him dead, but since it was a woman, his only instinct was to pull her away and keep her confined so that she did not hurt anyone else.

“Have you learned anything more about the woman who attacked Miss Perdita and her reasons?”

“We hope to today,”

Felding answered. “Sinclair has gone to speak with her again.”

The good doctor hadn’t much success the day before but perhaps after spending the night in a cell the woman would be more open to answering questions instead of proclaiming doom for a second born twin.

“She clearly mistook me for someone else,”

Perdita said. “I am not a twin, nor am I evil.”

“Of course you are not,”

Lady Sinclair soothed. “I wish I could tell you to put this behind you, but of course, I know that it is not so easy to do.”

“I do wish I could.”

“Dr. Sinclair and Mr. Benedick have returned,”

the butler announced just as both men walked past him.

“Did you learn anything more?”

Perdita asked.

“No. She kept repeating the same ramblings as she did when she attacked you,”

Benedick answered as she strode to the sideboard and poured a glass of brandy.

Dr. Sinclair followed and did the same.

“She is from Ireland, which I took from her accent once she was calm enough to speak clearly,”

Dr. Sinclair offered.

“I did not detect an accent,”

Perdita offered.

“Neither did I, but she was also screaming and it was a frightening situation,”

Harrison said.

“Then why is she in London?”

Lady Felding asked.

“Because the boy is apparently here as well.”

“She told you nothing else?”

Dr. Valentine demanded.

“She just said the woman and the boy must die or all will be lost and Ireland ruined.”

“A derangement?”

Lady Sinclair asked.

“I believe so,”

Dr. Sinclair answered.

“Is there any chance that we might learn more?”

Perdita asked.

“I will visit again tomorrow, but I have less hope than I did earlier today. There is also the possibility that we will never learn why she believes such superstitions.”

“Or why I was attacked,”

Perdita added.

“We can only assume that she mistook you for another.”

“I suppose I will simply have to live with that knowledge,”

she finally said with a sigh.

Harrison hated that Perdita might not get her answers, but if the woman truly suffered from a delusion or madness, there were no answers to be gained, and she would not be the first to suffer from such. Bedlam was unfortunately full of such unfortunate souls.

Though it was disheartening to realize that she may never have answers, it .was something that Perdita would simply just need to accept, she supposed.

Though, she wished not so many people were present. There was a comfort that they worried enough to be here, but she also wished that she could have a moment to speak with Harrison alone. Instead, she sipped her tea and listened to the conversation that occurred around her, which only became more disjointed when her aunt and uncle returned from their walk in Hyde Park and joined them in tea.

“Do you grow tired?”

he asked quietly as he neared her chair.

“Strangely, yes,”

she answered. Her eyes were heavy and she truly wanted to return to her bed.

“You did suffer an injury and blood loss,”

he reminded her.

“That was yesterday.”

Should she not feel better today? She expected her arm to ache but not for the rest of her to remain tired. Goodness, she had not even been out of her bed all that long.

“The body often takes time to recover from such a shock,”

Dr. Sinclair said, clearly having listened to their conversation.

“He is correct, and you should return upstairs,”

Orlando ordered.

Perdita looked up and into Harrison’s eyes and silently begged him to take her away from her family and simply let her rest, alone, with him, where they could quietly converse. But if she were to voice her thoughts, Rosalind would have them betrothed in the blink of an eye. Something neither of them was ready for.

“I will take you up, dear,”

Aunt Mary offered.

She was grateful to her aunt, the only mother that she had ever truly known. “Thank you.”

She set her teacup aside and stood and had to quickly grasp the chair when dizziness assaulted her. “Goodness.”

Though there was no danger of her falling because she had found support, she was comforted by Harrison’s warm hand on her back as he took her uninjured arm in his.

“Perhaps you should sit again,”

he suggested.

The dizziness was gone and Perdita shook her head. “I will be fine.

“I will see you up the stairs and to your chamber,”

Orlando insisted as he came to her side and took Perdita’s arm from Harrison’s hand and replaced it with his own.

Did he not like Harrison or was he a brother simply objecting to a simple touch.

They really were too overprotective.

Though she took the stairs slowly, at the insistence of Orlando who remained at her side, she did happen to glance back into the entry when they reached the landing before they went up the second flight to find Harrison there watching.

She offered a smile.

“I will call on you tomorrow,” he said.

“I look forward to seeing you.”

“Come along, Perdita,”

Orland urged, but it wasn’t until they reached her chamber door that she questioned him. “What do you have against Captain Trent?”

He frowned and pulled back “Nothing. Why would you think that I did?”

“When he was assisting me below, you practically pushed him away.”

“I did not.”

“You did.”

Aunt Mary chuckled. “Brothers do not like to see their sister’s touched by men who are not relatives no matter how innocent.”

She reached forward to open the door. “He likely did not even realize what he was about.”

Perdita looked back at Orlando who practically glared.

“Change and then I will be in to check your bandages and make certain you did not tear any of your stitches.”

He then crossed his arms over his chest and waited.

Aunt Mary ushered Perdita into the chamber and then shut the door.

“What was all that about? Is he angry with me?”

“He sees what I believe you and Captain Trent do not wish to admit or perhaps have not realized yourself.”

“What would that be?”

“Love, dear.”

“We are only friends, Aunt Mary.”

That is what she would also keep telling her family until Harrison returned.

Aunt Mary arched an eyebrow but said nothing.

“Even if we were more, why should Orlando be irritated?”

She had assumed everyone would be happy if all the sisters wed.

“Orlando has always been overly protective of you, Perdita. I think it comes from you being the youngest.”

“And he got to keep me,”

she laughed.

“What was that?”

Aunt Mary asked.

“When I was little, maybe three, which means Orlando would have been ten, he said I was special because they got to keep me.”

Perdita laughed. “Did he think I would be given away because there were already so many children?”

It was a fond memory that made her smile, even if he was behaving like a stuffy older brother right now.