The Captain's Wallflower Page 4

  “The list could be long,” Peterson said, not sure how his comment would be received but needing to make his employer aware the extent to which he had been lashing out.

  “Well, if it ruins me, it will be a lesson I’ll not forget so easily,” Alexander said. Anthony had been correct: he never would have treated anyone so badly before; there was no excuse. It was time to change and time to fight.

  *

  Alexander worked hard when he returned home. He had a London residence, liking the hustle and bustle and entertainments the capital offered as any young man would. Only now did it seem the wrong place to have a residence. Rather than make the rash decision to sell and either move in with Anthony or setup a house somewhere less busy, he determined to give London life one last chance. He learned every inch of his house so he could move around confidently. It did not come easy, and there were many knocks and bruises along the way. Staff had to learn that if they moved something to clean it, it had to be replaced in exactly the same position in order to avoid a curse the next time Alexander had to move past the object. Moved objects caused unnecessary accidents.

  He learned that it was easier to receive a description of where food was on a plate using a clock face as a guide, far easier than having to guess. He no longer served himself but allowed himself to be served. He accepted his glass being filled at the dining table, but he wanted some independence and solitude from his staff. He developed a knack of pouring his own drinks when in his study.

  The garden was another challenge, but he faced it and eventually was confident about the pathways and seating areas.

  His tailor visited the house. Alexander needed new clothes; he was no longer entitled to wear his Navy uniform. He felt a pang of remorse knowing it was something he had worn for years with pride, but he pushed the feelings to one side, cursing his vanity. Peterson was his eyes when choosing fabric for his new wardrobe, although Alexander felt every sample of material that was brought to be considered. He was determined to have some input in the process.

  Throughout the challenges Alexander was facing whilst at home, he faced another hurdle during the visiting hours. It was one that he had not really expected.

  On his return he received many visits. People visiting to see the hero, to find out what had happened, wanting to hear the story firsthand. It was also clear from the start that he was a freak show. The locality could come and see the blind man who could walk around his house without crashing into objects, but could not pour the tea. Once the initial visits had taken place and curiosity had been satisfied, Alexander found many whom he had considered his friends soon fell by the wayside.

  He could not speak about the latest hunt or the latest beauty, so he was of little interest to the men. The women, although more pitying of his plight, no longer saw him as a possible suitor, so their interest also waned. It was not many weeks before few people visited at all, and he could not visit them in return, even if he had wanted to. Going into a strange house carried far too many risks of disaster for him to venture out.

  Throughout it all Mr Richard Critchley had stood by his friend. They had been school friends, Mr Critchley coming from a rich, although untitled family. They had built up a bond that had survived Alexander’s many absences because of his naval commitments.

  Alexander appreciated his friend even more since his injury; Critchley was consistent, encouraging and enough of a thorn in the side to be able to drag Alexander out of his house when he thought he was up for the next challenge.

  That was how Alexander had ended in a ballroom: Richard had decided Alexander needed to mix more. Richard was the optimist who would never give up hope of having back the Alexander who had existed before Trafalgar. Alexander was beginning to realise he was never going to be able to go back and, after the past few months, he was not sure he would want to if he had the choice.

  Chapter 4

  Alexander was in a quandary. He wanted to go outside for a walk. Actually, if he were being honest, he wanted to spend more time in Miss Basingstoke’s company and go for a walk with the novelty of the dog at his side. Miss Basingstoke had inadvertently given him information that was perfect; she walked the dog every morning. There was just one problem: Richard was not available every morning. He was usually only arriving home as daylight emerged, so expecting him to be ready before most people ventured into Green Park was too much. It had been a huge favour the one time Richard had accompanied him. Alexander had needed to feel the open air and, although Richard had complained bitterly about the hour, he had escorted his friend. Alexander could not have faced the park when it was time for everyone to promenade.

  Alexander also had the suspicion that Richard might not have been keen if he realised Alexander wanted to pursue Miss Basingstoke. Alexander had not pushed his friend when he had dismissed the request to describe the lady, but he was sure part of the reason for Richard’s dismissal was because of the family she was connected to. Anyone of sense would be wary around a relative of Lady Basingstoke, but Alexander was drawn to the young lady. She was the only person he had met, apart from Richard, who had treated him like an intelligent human being; she had made silly remarks and did not fall over herself in trying to avoid the topic of his sight loss. She had been normal, and he longed for contact with people who said what they thought rather than what they presumed was expected, which were empty words. The worst thing about his situation was the loneliness and the lack of interaction with people other than his servants.

  The problem was reaching her. He did not want to pay her household a visit; that would put him in Lady Basingstoke’s clutches, and he wanted to avoid contact with Miss Serena Basingstoke at all cost. He had to find a way of walking in Green Park when it was likely she would be there.

  He eventually decided that Peterson would be a suitable replacement for Richard. The ever loyal valet escorted his master without complaint even though the air was crisp and the ground still slightly icy at such an early hour. They walked along the lanes in the park for three days before he heard Miss Basingstoke’s shouts and heard the thudding of Samson running across the ground. Peterson stiffened as the dog approached.

  Alexander just had the opportunity to say, “Don’t worry,” before the dog came to a stop before them. “Good morning, Samson,” Alexander addressed the dog.

  The words were the cue the dog needed. He moved around Alexander as he had done the first time, pushing between Peterson and Alexander before moving to Alexander’s left side. He received the scratch on his neck that he seemed to like and sat down, patiently waiting for Amelia to catch up.

  “Samson!” Amelia said, gasping for breath as she reached the group. “I’m sorry! He was so far away from me. I had no idea it was you when he started running.”

  “Did you miss me, boy?” Alexander said, scratching the dog’s head.

  “He certainly looks pleased to see you,” Peterson said, eyeing the dog warily.

  “He won’t harm you,” Amelia assured the valet. “He’s too boisterous, but there’s no real harm in him.”

  “I’m sure that’s what all owners say,” Peterson sniffed. “I’d prefer it if he was kept on a lead.”

  “Peterson, don’t be so mistrusting!” Alexander teased his employee. “He’s as gentle as a lamb.”

  “A lamb of giant proportions and large teeth,” Peterson responded, not afraid to say what he was thinking.

  Amelia laughed. “He’s never been likened to a lamb before! He isn’t vicious though; truly he has never inflicted anything but slobber on anyone, which I admit, isn’t always welcome,” she assured the valet.

  “Well, Miss Basingstoke, we have not seen you for a few days; have you been neglecting Samson?” Alexander asked.

  Amelia felt pleased that her presence in the park had been missed but quickly suppressed the feeling; there was no use letting herself get carried away. He was out of her reach, blind or not blind. “I was needed to help my aunt, so I was unable to take him on our usual walk. The poor thin
g had to make do with a short walk around the square in which we live.”

  “Well, Samson, I too am disappointed. I missed your support as I walked,” Alexander said to the dog. “May we join you once again Miss Basingstoke? I found the feeling of Samson against my leg to be a reassuring sensation as we walked last time.”

  “Certainly,” Amelia responded, smiling to herself. It was a good thing she had not become carried away with Alexander’s first words. He had missed the dog, not her. “I can’t promise he will do the same though.”

  Samson proved Amelia wrong. He stayed by Alexander’s side as they walked, again placing himself a little to the front of his body. Alexander rested his hand on the dog’s neck, and they walked comfortably together. The position was possible because of the size of the dog; he was a large creature, and Alexander’s hand rested naturally on his neck.

  “He’s never done anything like this before,” Amelia mused as they walked.

  “Perhaps he senses I need the help,” Alexander responded.

  “But you don’t, really,” Amelia countered. “You have the support of the person who is walking with you.”

  “Perhaps he thinks he can do a better job?” Alexander asked, laughing when Peterson harrumphed at his side.

  “Probably. He always thinks he’s the best at everything,” Amelia said with a smile. “Uncle Jeremy said he refused to seek the birds when he took him shooting. He swore that Samson looked at him with disgust and lay down as if to say he was far too good for such a task. He would have sold him, only he was worthless in the eyes of any who had seen him in action. Poor Uncle Jeremy.”

  “Poor Samson,” Alexander defended his new friend. “I would rather have him by my side than wasting his time searching for dead birds.”

  As they walked Alexander felt he could not ask anything other than the usual pleasantries even though he really wanted to find out more about the young lady who walked with him. It was not appropriate to ask the questions he wanted to while Peterson was in company with them and so close. He trusted his valet not to gossip, but his presence made things so much more uncomfortable, so he could not ask further personal questions. Alexander still needed to rest his arm on the valet’s as another measure of support. Alexander cursed his blindness again; would there be no privacy in his future?

  When they reached the gate where they had previously separated, Alexander was struck with inspiration. “Miss Basingstoke, could I ask something of you?”

  “Yes, of course,” Amelia responded while attaching the lead to the dog.

  “Samson seems to look on me as someone he needs to help. If we met at these gates tomorrow, would you mind if I accompanied you without my valet’s support and just walked with the dog?” Alexander was taking a risk. Although the dog had supported him twice, there was no guarantee he would continue to do so. If he ran off in the middle of Green Park, Miss Basingstoke would be obliged to chase after him, potentially leaving Alexander alone in the middle of a wide open space. By taking this chance, though, Alexander would be outside without support for the first time since his injury, and he would also be in the company of a lady who he wanted to get to know a little better.

  Amelia seemed to be having the same doubts and hesitated when responding. “I realise he has been very well behaved the two times you have met, but—”

  “I will not place any recriminations on you or the dog should he behave differently. I promise if you need to chase him, I shall remain stock still until you can come and rescue me,” Alexander reassured her. He was drawn to the young lady without doubt but, once he had thought of the idea, it seemed like an attractive one. It would be interesting to see how it felt to walk with just the dog leading the way.

  Amelia sighed. “I think you will be disappointed, but I will meet you here tomorrow, if you wish.” She could not refuse to meet the captain. Spending time in his company could rapidly become the highlight of her day.

  “Thank you.” Alexander bowed. “I shall look forward to tomorrow.”

  “You may regret those words,” Amelia muttered but smiled at Alexander’s laugh as he walked away with his valet. “You’d better not let him down, Samson,” she instructed the dog, ruffling the fur on his head as she tugged his lead.

  *

  Alexander had arranged with Peterson that he should wait on the first bench they came to in the park. Although once out of sight he would be of no practical use, Alexander needed his valet to escort him to and from the park. If Samson did not behave, Alexander would have to stand still until rescued, but he had no intention of keeping in sight of his valet. The thought of being free even for a short time made his heart pound in anticipation; in addition, his mood was lightened at the thought of being accompanied by a young lady. He had missed female company, and that Miss Basingstoke seemed intelligent and witty only added to her attraction.

  Amelia was waiting at the gates for Alexander. She had set out even earlier than normal to let Samson get rid of his first burst of energy. Standing at the gate she could appreciate the sight of Alexander walking down the street. Even with his reliance on someone to lead him he walked upright. His shoulders were back and his strides long. He dwarfed the valet when in fact there were not too many inches difference in height. It was the way Alexander held himself that made him appear to tower over Peterson. He no longer wore the uniform of the Navy, but he looked magnificent in a deep blue frock coat, buckskin breeches and gleaming boots. He was a devastatingly handsome man in Amelia’s eyes. She smiled as the gentlemen approached, her smile growing when Samson woofed gently and wagged his tail at his new friend’s approach.

  “Well, Samson, I hope that greeting is a good sign,” Alexander said cheerfully. The dog circled him, as he had done previously and sat at his side, his tail thumping the ground. “Shall we start, Miss Basingstoke?”

  “Whenever you are ready,” Amelia said. She started to walk, and Samson and Alexander joined her, Samson keeping pace with her. She was a little reserved; she had been with other people when in Alexander’s company until now. All of a sudden, who she was with seemed to daunt her. He felt huge as he walked by her side, which was foolish, as she had sat next to him only two weeks ago. She cursed herself and shook her head, trying to dismiss her nonsensical thoughts; it did not make conversation easier for her. She was for the first time in her life tongue-tied.

  “Could you describe Samson to me?” Alexander asked. He was also quite nervous, although it had more to do with being reliant on Samson, but he would never have admitted disquiet, and asking for description was always a good way to settle his nerves. If he could picture something in his mind’s eye, he felt more reassured.

  “Apart from large, uncontrollable brute, you mean?” Amelia replied with a grin.

  “We’ve already established that we disagree on that score,” Alexander responded with an easy smile and a ruffle of Samson’s head.

  “I don’t agree with his detractors actually,” Amelia confessed. “I’ll try to describe him, although this feels a little strange. His coat is golden; you can probably feel how it grows in long curls,” she started. “His eyes are my favourite part of him; they are almost black and seem to laugh, especially when he is about to do something mischievous.”

  “He’s obviously intelligent,” Alexander added.

  “Yes. When he’s happy, his tongue lolls out of the left side of his mouth. I don’t know why, but it’s always the left.”

  “Is his tongue lolling now?” Alexander asked quickly.

  “Yes,” Amelia reassured him, smiling at the uncertainty in his voice. “As soon as he sees you, the tongue comes out.”

  “I’m glad.” When few friends existed, Alexander needed to keep hold of the ones around him, even if one was a four-legged creature of dubious character.

  “He has the bushiest tail,” Amelia continued. “I’m sure if he had chased the birds, it would have become tangled in the undergrowth, but it is nice to feel it pounding against your leg when he’s walking al
ong. That’s it really; you know about his personality traits although you have only seen the best of him so far.”

  “The ‘so far’ does worry me a little, but he is doing very well. I cannot express how good it feels to be able to walk along without being attached to someone,” Alexander said with feeling.

  “It must be hard going from complete independence to total reliance on others,” Amelia said. Her voice was sympathetic but not pitying.

  “You cannot imagine how hard,” came the quiet reply. They walked in silence for a few moments. “Tell me about yourself, Miss Basingstoke. I know nothing of you.”

  Amelia flushed and was grateful that her embarrassment could not be seen. It was easier to be confident when the man you had admired since you had first seen him three seasons ago could not see you. “There is very little to tell,” she said dismissively.

  “Said like a modest miss. I would have expected more from you,” Alexander teased. “I know nothing about your family.”

  Amelia was once again reminded that they would never have crossed paths if it were not for the injury. She sighed quietly; she needed to keep that fact in her mind so her foolish heart could not run away with itself. Nothing could stop her enjoying his company though. “I am somewhere in the middle of nine children,” she started. “I’m the only girl. I think I was spoiled and bullied in equal measure by my brothers.”

  Alexander laughed. “Eight brothers? Woe betide anyone who tries to take liberties with you; they would have sixteen fists to fight off!”

  “If I were the beauty of the season, that might be so, but since I’m a confirmed wallflower, I think the gentlemen of our social circle are safe,” Amelia countered. She did not mind his teasing; she could take what he said in the spirit in which it was offered.

  “The fact that you have eight brothers lurking in the background may have put off one or two gentlemen. Are all your brothers in London?”