The Captain's Return. Elizabeth Bailey
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Название: The Captain's Return

Автор: Elizabeth Bailey

Издательство: HarperCollins

Жанр: Историческая литература

Серия: Mills & Boon Historical

isbn: 9781474016933

isbn:

СКАЧАТЬ His throat tightened, and his voice seemed not to wish to obey him.

      “How—how old? The babe. How old is it?”

      Weem considered the question, trouble gathering in his sharp-featured face. “Just a toddler, guv’nor. I’d say not much more’n two—three at most.”

      “Oh, dear Lord,” groaned Ned.

      Captain Colton could not speak. What havoc had he wrought that fateful night? Had he not dreaded this very outcome, lying sleepless night after night in a crude cot in cantonments in Spain? Or bivouacking by an impromptu fire, supping on stewed rabbit, augmented by a potato or two filched from a nearby field? Weem had always been expert at ferreting for food to eke out the most meagre of rations. Would he had long ago had the sense to send him ferreting after this.

      The nightmare of his worst fears realised! Yet when Annabel had so steadfastly refused to answer his letters, he had at length supposed that fortune had favoured them. But it had not been so. Had Annabel turned to him in the extremity of this unlucky accident? No, she had not. Hurt rose up, as sharp and bitter as when she had first rejected him.

      “Well, that explains the locality,” said his brother musingly, recovering from his first astonishment. “I wonder if it was Howes who set her up at Steep Ride.”

      “Who else?” said Hal bitingly. “Why the devil couldn’t the old curmudgeon have come down off his high ropes? If he’d only sent me word—”

      He broke off, becoming aware of his batman’s steady regard. Useless to suppose that Weem had not already guessed the sum of it. But there was no need to bandy words in his presence that must necessarily wreck Annabel’s reputation.

      “You’ve done well, Weem. I’ll want every last detail, mind, but that can wait.”

      Dismissed, the batman withdrew, leaving Hal confronting the accusing eyes of his senior. He threw up a hand.

      “You need not look like that, Ned! I did everything I could to make it right. I promise you, I have a stack of letters to prove it.”

      “Returned unopened,” agreed Mr Colton. “I know. You told me. What you didn’t tell me—”

      “I know. Devil take it, do you think I meant to do it?”

      He crossed the parlour, as if he must avoid his brother’s gaze, and went to stare out of the window upon the unkempt lawns. Only a short time ago he had been agreeing with Ned upon the number of gardeners required to return them to a semblance of order. His godfather had been old and ailing for some time, and the place had been allowed to deteriorate. How little he now cared!

      “It was at a ball that it happened,” he disclosed, without turning round. “We had not met since she broke off our betrothal. We quarrelled mightily. We were both too much empassioned to have any rationality left. Inevitable, I suppose. So much hot air.” He turned suddenly, the blue-grey eyes afire. “And she did love me, Ned. I swear she still loved me!”

      “Then, perhaps,” agreed his brother meaningfully.

      An obstruction lodged in Hal’s chest. “You need not say it. What woman could continue to love the man who ruined her?”

      Mr Colton came across the room. He was not near as tall, nor as broad in the chest as his brother, and his hair was less vibrant, tending more to gold. But he had the advantage of him in both years and temperament. Hal’s tempestuous personality had ever been his undoing.

      “You can’t be absolutely sure, Hal, that she was ruined.”

      Hal’s tone was bleak. “Can’t I?”

      “She is not precisely living in obscurity. Weem says there is some society there. Evidently she has acquired respectability.”

      “Respectability!”

      “It’s not lightly won, Hal. It is possible that Annabel did marry. Even if the child is yours, Annabel may have taken refuge under another’s name.”

      “The devil she did!” Something clicked in the Captain’s brain. He slammed a fist into his open hand. “No. Annabel didn’t marry a man called Lett. There is no such man.”

      “How can you be sure?”

      “I’ve remembered why it sounded familiar.” Grimness settled in his chest. “Lett was the maiden name of Annabel’s mother.”

      His brother was silent for a moment. But Hal’s first shock was fading. Not for nothing was he a soldier. He was a captain, in command, given to swift decisions. What was needed now was not regret, but action. He stiffened his shoulders.

      “What will you do?” asked Ned frowningly.

      “Oh, I know what to do!”

      His brother began to look alarmed. “Now, Hal—for the Lord’s sake, think before you act!”

      “I’ve thought for three years. I’m done with thinking.”

      “Oh, dear Lord! Hal!’

      But Captain Colton was already on the move. Before he reached the door, his brother caught his arm. “Wait, Hal!”

      He turned. Removing the hand that imprisoned him, he grasped it strongly. “Ned, I’m coming home with you, so you’ll have every opportunity to argue. But let me advise you not to waste your breath. You can say what you like, but you won’t change my mind.”

      Mr Colton grinned. “You always were a headstrong devil.”

      Hal’s smile was twisted. “So I may be. But in this case, Ned, there’s a matter of honour at stake. I have no choice.”

      The kitchen bench and two of the dining chairs had been brought out and set under the shade of a great chestnut. It was situated just upon the boundary, but it obligingly spread its branches to encompass a good part of Annabel Lett’s garden. A circumstance that enabled her to receive her two visitors in a much pleasanter setting on a hot Saturday in early July than was to be had in the tiny formal parlour within the cottage.

      The visitors occupied the chairs, while Annabel took the bench. She was dressed in a sprigged gown of a soft green lawn that brought out the colour of her eyes, although its cut and style were far from fashionable. Its modest neckline, round and plain, and its three-quarter sleeves, together with the frilly cap that covered much of Annabel’s dark hair, gave her an air of respectability.

      It was a pose that Mrs Lett had cultivated with care and diligence. And if she had not entirely succeeded in subduing the restless spirit that lurked deep within—which now and then broke out, to her regret, in hasty words—she flattered herself that she had fooled most of her acquaintances in their reading of her character.

      But the two ladies present were such particular friends that Annabel felt able to relax her strict guard. She would not have hesitated to entertain them in the larger family room, where Rebecca was permitted to run wild and all was generally at sixes and sevens. But this arrangement allowed little Becky to dash about the garden under her mother’s eye, leaving Janet free to pursue her numerous chores.

      Which was as well, for Annabel thought her visitors would have burst with frustration if they СКАЧАТЬ