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

By the time Harrison returned to his set of rooms at The Albany, he was no longer interested in visiting White’s, or anyone for that matter. The day had been unexpected and he was still disturbed by finding the dead woman in the alley. Then he had met the lovely Miss Perdita.

He shook his head and set to unpacking his trunks.

She was a miss and he was not in London to court anyone. How could he when he was still uncertain as to his future? For now, he simply wanted to relax in his set of rooms, drink the rum that he’d brought from Jamaica then fall into bed and hope for a peaceful night of sleep.

His mind was also on Oliver. Where had he come from? Who were his parents? Why had that woman been killed? This led to very strange dreams. Some pleasant, as they included Miss Perdita, until they merged into the scenes from the alley so that by the time he awakened the next morning, Harrison still did not feel fully rested.

Because the fate of Oliver was still a concern, he set out to walk the waterfront, near the docks where the child had been found, but nobody was searching for him. Not a single soul.

It was most disturbing, but as there was nothing further that he could do, Harrison spent the rest of the day, and the sennight that followed, seeing to the repairs on his ship. If he wasn’t supervising or working alongside his men, he was asleep in his set of rooms. Had he not been worried that the work would not be done in time, he likely would have visited White’s or attended a few balls, but he had a contract with Bridges and he was going to see it fulfilled, especially if it did turn out to be his last voyage.

However, that did not mean that he had not thought about Oliver or Miss Perdita. Both equally took up space in his thoughts. So much so, that a week after the child had been discovered, he visited the office of the Thames River Police and finally Bow Street only to find that they had no further information of the woman or the child, nor were they aware if the child had been claimed at Westbrook House. How could they be so callous about a missing child?

It was a question he put to them, but they claimed that children were orphaned every day in London and murders were sadly not unusual. And, when someone died that could not be identified, it often remained unsolved because they simply did not have the resources to do so.

It not only angered him but it was confounding as well, which was why he made his way to Westbrook House that very afternoon to see if the child may have been claimed without the knowledge of the authorities. This time he knocked on the front door as he was a visitor and not making a delivery.

It was Edith who answered then stood back so that he could enter.

“Have the parents of Oliver been located as of yet?”

he asked. “I find that I am worried about the lad.”

“We have heard nothing, Captain Trent.”

“How is he faring?”

While the child likely witnessed the murder, it was probable that he did not understand, nor would he remember.

“He is content so long as Miss Perdita is near. If she leaves his sight, Oliver cries.”

“Is that unusual?”

“Not so much that he is a stranger here and she is the one he prefers.”

“Is she available to speak with me?”

Edith studied him. “Why?”

“To assure myself as to the welfare of the child,”

he answered. While Oliver may have been the reason for his visit, it was also an excuse because Harrison had wanted to see Perdita again. There was something about her that drew him, and he honestly could not understand. In any other circumstance, he would have forgotten about a miss he met over tea, but she lingered with him.

Perhaps it was because she had been part of his disturbing dreams.

“I believe she was trying to disengage herself from Oliver so that she might return home,”

Edith answered.

As if in response to his question, Miss Perdita walked down the stairs, Oliver in her arms.

“I fear I must send a note to my sister that I will not be able to join her this evening.”

“Nonsense. Put that child down. Crying will not harm him none.”

“Except it breaks my heart,”

Miss Perdita said right before she noticed Harrison standing in the entry, then smiled brightly. “Good afternoon, Captain Harrison. How are you doing today?”

“Well,”

he answered. “And you?”

“Well, though I seem to have grown an appendage that does not like to be set aside.”

She laughed.

Harrison could hardly blame the child, especially since his chubby cheek rested upon her ample breast.

He’d be quite content and would not like to give up such a position either.

“Here, let me take him so that you can be on your way,”

Edith insisted then lifted Oliver away. The child immediately started to cry and held out his arms to Perdita.

“I am sorry, Oliver, but I must go. I do promise to return tomorrow.”

She then kissed his chubby, red cheek and turned away. It was only then that Harrison noticed Miss Perdita let her smile slip once her back was to the child and bit her bottom lip, concern in her blue eyes. It truly did upset her to leave a child in distress, yet it could not be helped.

“Good day, Captain Trent,”

she offered, after she’d pulled on her gloves and hat and right before she exited Westbrook House.

As he could see that the child was well, though none too happy, Harrison nodded to Edith, then left as well, closing the door behind him.

“Miss Perdita,”

he called.

She stopped and turned around. “Yes. Is there something you needed, Captain Trent?”

You, he almost blurted out but thankfully held his tongue and wondered where that thought had come from. “May I escort you home? A miss should not walk around London alone.”

“What of your carriage?”

she asked.

“I brought a hackney here but would be happy to walk with you.”

“It truly is not necessary, Captain Trent, but I thank you for the offer.”

She smiled and continued down the walk.

He should just let her go on her way and make his way to White’s, as he had intended to do, yet something compelled him to follow her.

“I do not mind,”

he said, increasing his steps so that he caught up to her.

“Then I thank you for the escort.”

She graced him with another beautiful smile and in that moment, something inside his chest warmed. It certainly was not his heart, but the sensation was unfamiliar just the same.

“I have once again searched for Oliver’s parents but nobody has been looking for the lad.”

She frowned, her eyebrows drawing together over her blue eyes. “It is such a strange circumstance, is it not?”

“Yes. I also inquired at the Thames River Police, but nobody has come in seeking information, nor has Valentine located anyone who might know the lad, nor is anyone trying to solve the mystery.

“Benedick told me the same earlier, but there is really little they can do with no identification for Oliver or the woman.”

Once again, she used familiarity for the man. Not that it should matter, but Harrison could not help but be curious.

“You know him well? This Benedick.”

Miss Perdita laughed. “Very well.”

With that, his heart sank. They were betrothed, no doubt, because if they were married, she would have corrected him when he called her miss.

Perdita had hoped to see Captain Trent again but assumed she would not when a sennight passed and he had not returned to Westbrook House, nor had she seen him at any of the various entertainments in Society. Then again, he was a merchant captain so it was unlikely he would have been invited to the same functions as her sister and brother-in-law. But here he was, walking beside her.

There was much to admire about him that had nothing to do with his being handsome. He could have forgotten about Oliver, yet he was still concerned with the child’s welfare. He also had an air of authority about him. Strength, as well as seriousness. Reserved! She had little experience with men who did not boast or flatter, or worse, condescended. Their confidence often came from thinking well of themselves whereas Captain Trent’s had been earned and likely came from being the captain of a vessel.

However, why had he asked if she knew Benedick well? Certainly, he knew the connection.

Except, perhaps he did not because they had not been properly introduced and she had only been addressed as Miss Perdita.

“He is my brother,”

she clarified.

“Brother!”

“Yes.”

She smiled.

“I assume you have others,”

he offered. “Someone had asked which Valentine the day I delivered Oliver.”

“Oh, there are others.”

Perdita laughed. “I am the youngest of ten.”

“Ah, now I understand.”

“What do you understand?”

To what did he refer?

“The children challenged you when they were playing Blind Man’s Bluff and you set out to prove them wrong.”

He chuckled. “That comes from being a younger sibling.”

She laughed because he was correct. “Tell me, Captain Trent, were you a younger or older sibling?”

“Both,”

he answered. “I have three older brothers and an older sister, as well as a young brother and young sister.”

“And did you torment those who were younger than you?”

she demanded, though it was in good fun.

“I fear that I did, but only because I was tormented,”

he answered somberly.

“It is the way of it. Older siblings with younger ones, but eventually we all grow out of such mischief.”

“Until one is challenged again by another set of children,”

he chuckled.

“Yes, well, some habits and reactions are difficult to break.”

Not only was he handsome, caring and kind, but also a pleasure to be with. It was a shame that he was a ship’s captain and would likely be gone in a few days, never to be seen again.

“What is it like being the captain of a merchant ship? You have probably seen all kinds of wondrous places.”

“Not as many as I would have liked.”

“Do you sail often?”

“I spend most of my time going from one port to the next with rarely a chance for long visits,”

he answered.

“When do you leave port again?”

“This will be one of my longer visits,”

he answered. “My ship is in need of some repairs and I am not scheduled to sail until June.”

He would be here at least a fortnight! Much longer than she had expected and she couldn’t help but hope that she did see him again. Not that she had plans or dreams for the future, but she truly liked him and wanted to come to know him better.

“This is me,”

she said when they reached her temporary home, that of her brother-in-law, Marquess Felding.

It was when she turned toward him that she noticed that woman again and frowned.

“What is wrong?”

“Ever since you brought Oliver to Westbrook House, I have been seeing a woman. The first time I ran into her shortly after leaving Westbrook House. A few days later I saw her there again, and now today she is here,”

Perdita whispered as she looked up at Captain Trent. “It is very odd because she does not ever appear to be going about her business but watching.”

He frowned. “Could she know something about Oliver do you suppose?”

“I would assume, but when I tried to approach her again, she hurried away.”

At her words, Captain Trent turned and Perdita looked behind him, but the woman was gone.

“Who? Which woman?”

“She is not there any longer.”

Perdita let out a sigh. “It is probably a coincidence and I am making something out of nothing,”

she decided. “Thank you for walking me home, Captain Trent.”

“The pleasure was all mine, Miss Perdita.”

He then lifted her gloved hand and bent, nearly brushing her knuckles with a kiss.

Goodness!

His green eyes warmed and the corner of his mouth tipped, almost a smile, and she wondered at the cause as she gently pulled her hand from his.

“I do look forward to seeing you again.”

He then turned and walked away and Perdita was hard pressed not to let out another sigh. He looked forward to seeing her again!

A rush of excitement filled her being. No gentleman had ever looked forward to seeing her again. Well, none had ever told her, and certainly not a handsome, confident man.

Perdita rushed up the two steps leading to the door and entered the house. Only then did she do a twirl in the center of the entry.

He looked forward to seeing her again!

“Why are you so happy?”

Rosalind asked coming from the front parlor.

As much as Perdita wanted to tell of her walk with Captain Trent, she kept it to herself. “It has simply been a wonderful day,”

Perdita finally answered.

Rosalind tilted her chin and slightly narrowed her eyes.

Perdita kept her smile though now it was more forced. Her sisters did know her better than anyone but she hoped Rosalind did not pry because if she knew of the walk, she would get it into her head to play matchmaker.

“We are attending the Bridges’ ball this evening and I plan to leave at eight.”

“I will be ready,”

she promised her sister.

As much as she did enjoy the balls and dancing, this was the first time that she hoped that a particular captain would also be present.

Except, he was a ship’s captain and likely not invited to ton entertainments, though she could only hope that he had been.