Page 34 of The Captain’s Valentine (The “Other” Trents #3)

Harrison closed the door and stepped onto the walk.

Leaving Perdita was harder than he could have ever imagined. Even when he had vowed to remain a bachelor so long as he sailed, it was because he’d been concerned about leaving a wife alone and not being there to protect her, or her being lonely. He had never taken into account his own emotions at leaving someone behind.

What if her emotions settled or died and, in his absence, she realized that he was a friend only? His biggest fear was that she would meet and fall in love with someone else while he was gone and he would return to find her unavailable.

He turned to stroll down the street and to his brother’s home. Had he not promised to dine with them this evening, he likely would have remained with Perdita until the time he had to board his ship.

If only he did not need to sail now. If only he could put it off for a little longer.

Perdita needed him and he did not want to be away from her. What if Her Grace made Perdita’s life more difficult?

Instead of going directly to his brother’s home, Harrison turned to make his way to the Clare mansion. There was one person he needed to speak to before he left. The only person who could protect Perdita from their mother.

After knocking on the door, he was allowed entrance. The Duke of Clare was in his library and Harrison was led to him.

Even though the servant left the door open when he retreated, Harrison closed it and approached the duke who was seated behind a large desk.

“Are you aware of what your mother did today?”

Clare groaned and set his quill aside. “No. I try to avoid her and not involve myself in her activities.”

Without being asked, Harrison settled in the chair on the other side of the desk and proceeded to tell him of Her Grace’s visit to Westbrook House and the threats made.

“I am not surprised that she went there to see Cara removed, and sadly, I wish I was shocked by her threats.”

“Can you not do something about her?”

“No. Mother has very explicit ideas of what she wants for her daughters, where they should live and how they should go about.”

“One would think that she would be happy to have Miss Perdita back, happy to come to know her but her behavior has been the opposite.”

“She cannot imagine why anyone, especially a person of rank, would sully themselves in such a manner and she will not have it.”

“Miss Perdita has just as strong a mindset and convictions,”

Harrison warned.

“You speak as someone who cares for her.”

“I do,”

Harrison admitted. “Deeply.”

“Mother is concerned with your friendship.”

He got up from behind the desk and sauntered to the sideboard where he poured them both a brandy. “She intends to take Perdita to the country as soon as the Season ends, then will do her best to go about turning her into the daughter she should have become had she not been taken, then will arrange a house party and invite those who are worthy of her hand.”

While alarmed, Harrison was not surprised. His concern came from how Perdita might respond to such a dictate, and feared who she may meet. “I assume my name will not be on the guest list.”

Clare handed him a glass of brandy but said nothing, which was answer enough.

“Do either of you care what Miss Perdita wants?”

“I do but I have no control.”

He took his chair again. “Cara also does not realize all that she gains by being my sister. Doors will be opened to her, she is wealthy, and with the right instruction could take London by storm next Season.”

“If she has not already been wed to someone of your mother’s choosing,”

Harrison ground out.

“I will see that Cara is not forced to marry anyone that she does not want as a husband.”

While the assurance should give him comfort, it did not. Harrison had already heard how manipulative the woman could be.

“My question is why has neither your mother nor you bothered to come to know her. Ask after her interests or ask what she wants. Neither one of you seems to care. You only want the things for her that you believe are right.”

The Duke sighed and pushed his fingers through his hair and leaned back against the chair. “I am afraid that it does not matter what any of us want. Mother has always decided what is best and we either go along or live unhappily in her presence.”

Harrison stood and nearly slammed the glass on the table. “Then I suggested you remember that you are the Duke of Clare and all decisions should be yours because if you do not stop your mother, none of you will ever have a sister.”

“Yes, well, I got that feeling when she rejected mother’s dinner invitation.”

“It was not an invitation,”

Harrison yelled. “It was an order. You may be a duke, but not everyone, especially Miss Perdita, is going to automatically bow to your mother’s dictate and each time she attempts to push Miss Perdita into the perfect mold of a lady that she has decided upon, the further away she will push the daughter she was without all these years.”

With that, he turned on his heel and strode from the library, slammed the door in his wake and exited the mansion.

There would likely be no help on that front and all he could do was hope that with the support of Felding and her brothers, she would at least have some protection.

This would be a very long voyage and Harrison already knew that not a day would pass that he did not worry, which returned him to his early thoughts of remaining in England.

He stopped at the corner and faced the truth. He was a fool to leave. If he did, he might lose Perdita forever and it would be his fault if he did. He had a Chief Mate fully capable of captaining the ship as well as Harrison and it was time for Patterson to take charge.

Harrison first went to his brother and in private told him of his decision and that because of his change in plan he could not dine with them that evening. He also warned him of the threats made to Dr. Sinclair. Normally he would keep such to himself but Tristan’s wife was Sinclair’s sister, therefore, any threats of exposing the truth were threats against Tristan’s wife and he needed his brother to be prepared.

Next, Harrison set out for his ship. He was not due to arrive yet, but he needed to speak with Chief Mate Patterson to turn the ship over to him. He had been with Harrison for years and he was fully capable and up to the task, except when he arrived on the deck, Harrison0 found his men gathered around a body.

“What has happened?”

he demanded.

They parted to reveal the ship’s doctor kneeling beside Patterson.

“A head wound,”

the doctor said.

“How serious?”

Harrison demanded.

“I do not know, he remains unconscious, but alive.”

“Does anyone know what happened?”

Harrison barked.

“We found him this way,”

someone answered.

Harrison looked around but he could find no cause of why Patterson lay on the deck of the ship, unconscious and bleeding profusely from his head.

“Will we need to delay sailing?”

one of his men asked.

“That all depends on when he awakens and the state of his mind,”

the doctor answered.

“Does that mean he might be required to remain in London?”

Panic rose. He needed Patterson to captain the ship so that he could remain in London.

It was selfish to put his concerns first, but he needed Patterson up, whole and healthy.

“I cannot tell you that as of yet.”

Just then Patterson groaned and relief shot through his heart.

“What the…”

Patterson lifted a hand to touch his head and winced.

“Let me take a look at you,”

the doctor insisted.

Harrison and the others waited while the doctor looked into Patterson’s eyes, turned his head one way and then the next before examining the wound. “I fear he is concussed.”

Patterson groaned again then rolled to his side, tossing up his accounts on the deck of the ship.

“How bad?”

Harrison asked.

“His pupils are not the same size and that is never a good sign.”

“Can he sail?”

Harrison demanded.

“I would not recommend it because the motion of the ship will likely have him doing what he just did once he is at sea, and one can never tell how serious a head injury such as this could turn out to be.”

“Should we delay a day or two?”

Harrison asked. He was certain that Bridges would understand.

“That will depend on how long it takes for his stomach to settle and the headaches to go away, if he has no more serious concerns.”

Harrison pinched the bridge of his nose.

“How long?” he asked.

“It is hard to say, but I would recommend that you leave him in London to recover or your delay might put you weeks behind.”

Weeks! That was something that Bridges would not allow. A few days, yes, not weeks.

He then knelt by his Chief Mate. “Patterson, what happened?”

“I do not know.”

“He likely will never recall, which is often the case,”

the doctor said. “But there is evidence that he was struck from behind with a heavy object.”

Harrison then looked at the faces of the men under his command. None of them would have struck Patterson. Not even the ones closer to him in rank. And though each were excellent sailors, none were ready to take command of a ship.

With a heavy heart, he gave instructions to have Patterson returned to his home and for the doctor to contact another doctor in London to see to Patterson’s care. Then he gave orders to search and secure the ship to make certain nobody was aboard and nothing was taken and to make ready to sail. He then went to his cabin and penned a note to his brother that he would be required to sail after all.

There was no proof and they would likely never know, but Harrison would not be surprised if Her Grace hired someone to make certain that he did not have a Chief Mate available and thus force Harrison to leave London as planned.

Her heart was heavy, so much so that Perdita could only pick at the food on her plate. She had no appetite and really would rather just go above stairs, crawl in her bed and cry. But she feared that if she did that, she might not leave her chamber until Harrison returned.

“Is there anything else we can get for you, Miss Perdita?”

a footman asked after he glanced at her plate. The food had been moved around, but almost the same amount remained.

“No thank you.”

She rose from her chair. “Thank Cook for the meal and apologize that I was unable to eat it. I am certain it was delicious, I just…”

what did she say, she was suffering from a broken heart?

Except, Harrison had not rejected her, he had simply gone.

With a sigh, she exited the dining room and made her way to the stairs and paused only when there was a knock at the door.

Had he returned from his dinner with his family? Did Harrison want to see her one last time?

Her hope was quickly dashed when the butler was informed that Her Grace, the Duchess of Clare was there to call on Lady Cara.

She backed up the stairs and was shaking her head to the butler to let him know that she was not at home, but the duchess forced her way in and looked directly at Perdita. “In here, if you will.”

She did not wait for Perdita to agree but marched past the butler and into the first room used for receiving visitors.

Perdita blew out a sigh and followed.

“Shall I request tea?” he asked.

“No. She will not be here long.”

“Very good,”

he answered then stepped away and took up a place just outside of the parlor.

“It is time that we had a chat.”

“Very well,”

Perdita agreed and took a seat across from Her Grace.

“A friend recently visited me. She is in London and after reading your story in the newssheets came to congratulate me on finding you.”

“That was kind of her,”

Perdita murmured, yet was discomforted because there was no reason why Her Grace would share such a meaningless piece of information without a purpose.

“Miss Edwina Morely. Do you know her?”

“I do not.”

“Odd since she is the sister of the late Viscount Perry.”

The blood froze in her veins. How much of Perry’s life did his sister know?

“I can tell how the color has left your face that Viscount Perry’s name means very much. In fact, until recently, you may have believed him to be your father.”

Perdita said nothing. She would neither confirm nor deny her assumptions.

“Miss Edwina shared with me the most scintillating details of your family, or the Valentines, as they are not truly your family since you already have one but it explains your common behavior.”

Still Perdita held her tongue and vowed to remain in control of her anger. Her Grace would not manipulate her into saying anything that she might later regret.

She then went on to tell Perdita all that she had learned of who her mother was, who she had married and how she became Perry’s lover and had more children by him. “It was all very shocking, indeed. Thank goodness the vicar came along to rescue the lot of you and create a respectable family by which you could fool all of Society.”

“What do you want?”

Perdita finally asked. This was the very tactic Her Grace had used to remove Perdita from Westbrook House.

“Simply return to my home, where you belong, and let me guide you to become the daughter and lady you should have always been. Of course, you will need to sever all ties with the Valentines and the vicar and his wife.”

“If I do not?”

“Reporters do love it when I have something of import to tell them.”

“You expect me to simply turn my back on the only family I have ever known as if they never existed?”

“I have no objection to them being an acquaintance and of course if you see them in public, you may acknowledge them, but you do not belong here. You belong with your real family.”

Except the Valentines were her real family. At least in her heart.

“A greeting and acknowledgement but no other association?”

Perdita wished to clarify.

“You will not dine with them. You will not live with them. Ties will be severed and you will not seek them out. However, as I said, an acknowledgement or greeting in public would be allowed because it would be strange if you ignored them.”

“Even Bianca?”

Perdita asked.

“For her, I shall make an exception since she is a duchess, and on occasion, perhaps Lady Felding and Mrs. Storm as their husbands come from fine families, but your brothers will no longer be part of your life and any association with your sisters will be limited.”

This was even worse than she feared.

“Of course, they will still be invited to the ball because I would like to publicly thank them, but that is where association with them will end. It is important that you now follow my guidance. You are the daughter and sister of a duke and certain behavior is expected, as is a suitable match.”

“I will not marry without love,”

Perdita insisted.

“Foolish sentiment, I assure you, but in time you will see that happiness does not come from the heart.”

It was on the tip of her tongue to argue but Perdita was determined not to yell at this woman, or stomp from the room. The future of her family and what Society learned or remained ignorant of depended on her response. But, under no circumstances was she going to be intimidated and tormented by Her Grace.

“I need a moment, if you do not mind.”

“Of course, Cara.”

Her Grace offered a triumphant grin, knowing she had won.

Perdita rose from her seat and stepped out into the garden and looked up at the sky.

There must be something that she could do that kept her family’s secrets hidden and kept Perdita from having to live with that woman.

Oh, she had wanted to like her mother. She had wanted to come to know her, form a mother daughter bond and one with her siblings, but she simply could not when she was ordered about and people were threatened to bring her into line. That was not how a family treated each other.

But there was little she could do unless she could contrive a way to maneuver around her demands. Yes, there was a way that she could be agreeable yet not fully yield to her.

With those thoughts, she returned inside.

“Do you promise that if I have no further contact with my family in London. No association whatsoever, other than a greeting if I see them out, and distance myself, then you will not reveal their secrets?”

“It is what I want for you Cara. Such connection can only bring you harm.”

No, it brought her happiness, but she held her tongue. “I need you to promise me that you will not harm my family…the Valentines, nor speak of the secrets if I end all contact and association with them in London.”

“Why is London so important?”

Blast, she needed to be careful. “It is where my brothers live, and where Society often gathers, which seems important to you so that is why it is specified,”

she explained. “Do you promise?”

“Yes, of course. I will not disparage them in any manner so long as you no longer associate with your brothers when you are in London and have limited contact with your sisters.”

She gave a nod.

“Very well,”

she answered.

“I knew you would see reason, Cara.”

Her Grace stood. “We can leave now and you can send for your belongings.”

“Not tonight,”

she insisted. “I will wait for Rosalind to return and I would like to explain to her and spend one last night here.”

“Very well.”

She blew out a sigh. “But I expect you tomorrow morning. You need to have a final fitting for your gown at the modiste.”

“I have not had a first fitting,”

Perdita reminded her.

“You and Cadla are nearly identical in size as well as face, so the alterations will be minor,”

Her Grace dismissed. “We will then finish the final plans for the ball and work on seeing that you are polished for presentation.”

Perdita simply nodded and showed her to the door with no intention of being in London after tonight.