The Captain's Wallflower Page 6

  “I never sleep very well on land. I seem to need to hear the sound of the waves to have a deep, restful night. I’ve always said the waves rock me to sleep, but it’s more than that,” Alexander said. He had turned, leaning back on the seat, stretching his legs out in front of him. An outsider would think he was totally relaxed because of his posture, but Amelia saw the frown and knew he was hurting deep inside. His injury had taken away more than his sight.

  “I can’t imagine how you have the strength to face each day; you are braver than people realise,” Amelia said gently.

  Alexander harrumphed. “My brother would disagree; he had to take me to task before I started behaving like a gentleman instead of the beast I’d turned into.”

  “Well, that’s all in the past now,” Amelia said, wanting to carry on the conversation but rousing herself; they had sat still too long. It was not appropriate for them to remain seated without a chaperone. She might not mind anyone seeing her walking with Samson unchaperoned, but being caught on a bench with a gentleman would put them both in line for conjecture on their relationship. “Come, let’s see if Samson will return you to the seat if we walk a little away.”

  Alexander stood and immediately Samson moved to his usual position on the left side of him. “Right boy, lead on,” Alexander said. The dog seemed to understand and walked forward with Alexander. Amelia followed but was holding back a little; she was interested to notice that the dog did not seem to be waiting for her direction.

  When they had walked a distance from the bench they had just vacated, Alexander stopped and turned slightly, facing the way they had just walked. Samson remained by his side.

  Alexander scratched the dog’s neck. “Come on, boy; I know you can do it,” he whispered. Standing straight, he said in a louder voice, “Samson, seat. Samson, seat.”

  The dog started to move forward with Alexander saying the same words over and over again. The journey was slow; Alexander was hesitant, and Samson seemed to sense the fear and nerves Alexander was facing, so he walked slower than he normally did.

  Amelia was watching the dog closely as the pair walked. He was obviously happy, his tail wagging, although slower than it normally did. Every time Alexander spoke, Samson glanced up at him, cocking his ears. She could see the concentration and frown on Alexander’s face. Forcing herself to hang back, she willed Samson to perform well.

  After what seemed like an age, Alexander felt Samson stop, and then felt the hard ironwork of the bench. He reached out to feel the structure and then turned to Samson, “Good boy! Good boy!” he said, ruffling the dog’s fur, making a real fuss of him. “What an excellent fellow! Good boy!”

  Amelia joined the pair, laughing and reaching over to stroke Samson. “He did it! Well done, Samson,” she said, relieved that he had behaved impeccably.

  “Miss Basingstoke, you have an amazing animal,” Alexander said, flushed with the pleasure of having achieved something without the help of another person.

  “There are many who would disagree with that statement but, at this moment, I cannot,” Amelia conceded. She had an idea why Alexander was so full of praise, and it choked her a little. He had achieved a walk to a specified place in the open air with only Samson for help. It must have been liberating. “But I’m afraid I need to take Samson back now. We have been out longer than we normally are.”

  Alexander’s face fell, “Oh of course, I was being selfish. Will you be able to meet me tomorrow?” he asked, wanting to keep the feeling of elation and anticipation on what else they could teach Samson.

  “I will try my best,” Amelia said. “We will be going to another ball tonight, but I expect not to be overtired from too much dancing.”

  The words were said in jest, but Alexander detected a note of wistfulness in her tone. “My acquaintances are fools, but their loss is my gain, Miss Basingstoke. I would miss our morning outings if they ceased.”

  Amelia knew the compliment was aimed at Samson, mainly, but she did not argue. It did not really matter; she had the benefit of spending time in the company of a very handsome, interesting man. She would have to give Samson a huge treat when they returned; he had worked hard.

  They walked back to Peterson with Alexander trying to describe the feelings of nerves and elation he had felt. He was animated and full of smiles, which made Amelia smile with pleasure. The walk seemed too short before she had to say her goodbyes and attach Samson to his lead. He was quiet on the journey home; Amelia wondered if concentrating wore him out as much as a good run did.

  She left Samson with the staff after persuading cook to allow him a large bone. Samson had immediately settled down on his blanket with the unexpected treat, his tail thudding the stone floor whenever anyone looked at him; he had no intention of moving until the bone had been devoured.

  Amelia returned to the main house and approached the wooden staircase. She needed to change her dress in order to be available for whatever tasks her aunt had planned for her. Not really concentrating on what she was doing, she almost collided with Serena, who was descending the stairs.

  “Watch where you’re going!” Serena snapped, shrilly.

  “Sorry, I was distracted,” Amelia apologised.

  “Your boots are a disgrace; have you been walking that hound again?” Serena looked with derision at Amelia’s attire.

  “Yes, he settles down if I exercise him. It’s better for him and the staff,” Amelia explained patiently. She was not about to explain that the last few days, life had been better for herself as well.

  “I find it novel that you put the needs of an animal and staff above your own appearance. It’s no wonder everyone gives you a wide berth; you probably smell of dog, the amount of time you spend with him,” Serena sneered.

  “Rather that, than everyone giving me a wide berth because they are terrified I will trick them into marriage,” Amelia snapped back.

  Serena flushed with anger, “I’ll be glad when you can return to your penniless hole at the end of the season,” she snarled.

  “Not as glad as I will be; I’m counting the days!” Amelia retorted and walked around her cousin. She did not usually let her feelings get the better of her, but she was not about to let Serena get away with her remarks. Amelia would have had a far better time without the curse of being related to her aunt and cousin. She probably would not have received any marriage offers, a girl without a dowry who was also not a great beauty would hardly be at the top of any potential suitor’s list, but she might have had a few more acquaintances and, as a result, dances.

  When she changed her pelisse and outdoor dress into her plain muslin day dress her afternoon was spent as it always was: at the beck and call of her aunt. It was obvious that Serena had reported what Amelia had said to her because the cutting remarks from her aunt were at an all-time high. It was a relief when Amelia was forbidden to go to the ball on a trumped up excuse; she was able to go to bed at a reasonable time, looking forward to her morning appointment.

  Chapter 6

  Amelia and Samson both hurried to the park as planned. Amelia still arrived earlier than the appointed time to enable Samson to run off some energy before they met Alexander. After yesterday’s events Amelia was keen to see what the day would bring. She was trying to convince herself that she was helping Alexander as any good Samaritan would, rather than feeling excitement at the thought of spending an hour in a handsome man’s company.

  She might not have been so happy if she had known in which direction Alexander’s thoughts were leaning. He had sat for most of the evening, trying to work out how he could use Samson to help him. He had started to think beyond the meeting every day; he wanted to spend a lot more time with the dog. He wanted to own him. The possibilities of having a dog that could guide him by using simple instructions was opening the world like nothing else had done since the battle. People would think him eccentric using a dog as a guide, but he was happy with that if it meant he gained some freedom.

  There was one problem he
had to think through: he could not just go banging on the Basingstoke’s door and ask to buy the dog; they would consider it odd behaviour. Apart from that, it would put Miss Basingstoke in a difficult position and put him in the way of Miss Serena Basingstoke, something he wanted to avoid at all costs. He would have to think carefully about his next step.

  Alexander heard Samson’s welcoming ‘woof’ as he was guided to the gate as usual; he smiled at the dog. “Good morning. I hope you are both well?”

  Amelia could not stop the wry smile that spread across her face. “It’s the first time I’ve shared equal status with a dog,” she said pleasantly. “It’s a good thing Samson is my favourite animal.”

  Alexander laughed. “I’m no good at flattery, am I?”

  “I don’t think Samson would have any complaints,” Amelia said easily.

  She released Samson, and he immediately walked to Alexander’s left side. “Shall we, Miss Basingstoke?” Alexander asked, keen to continue with the work they had started the previous day.

  “Lead on,” Amelia said. She did not think Alexander realised just how confident he was when Samson was in position. She would always be worried that Samson would be distracted, but as each day passed, it seemed to be a less likely occurrence.

  Amelia followed the pair, keeping slightly behind. Samson was taking the route they had taken the day before, using his body to gently guide Alexander. She only interrupted the walk when they were approaching the bench they had used the day before.

  “I think Samson is looking forward to his treats; we’re already at the bench,” she said.

  “Good boy!” Alexander said and started to repeat the training of asking Samson to seek out the seat.

  After Samson responded flawlessly, Amelia interrupted. “Perhaps if we move further along to a different seat, we can test if Samson understands the word ‘seat’, or if it is just this particular bench that he associates with treats,” she suggested.

  “Excellent thought!” Alexander said easily. “If you wouldn’t mind leading us to one that you think is a suitable challenge? Lead on, Samson.”

  Amelia picked a stone seat rather than another iron one, and Alexander started saying his command. To both parties’ delight, Samson performed perfectly. After ten minutes, Alexander remained on the seat instead of immediately standing and trying moving away to repeat the action. “You have relieved me of all the treats Samson. Well done boy!”

  “He’s been outstanding,” Amelia admitted, taking the place next to Alexander but not sitting too close.

  “Well, while we let him bathe in our worship, tell me about the ball you attended,” Alexander said.

  “Oh, I didn’t attend after all,” Amelia replied, distractedly stroking Samson as he settled between them.

  “You didn’t attend? Why ever not?” Alexander asked. Then he was struck with a thought. “It wasn’t because of the early hour we meet was it?” He would be mortified if his needs had prevented her enjoying a ball.

  “No, not at all!” Amelia said quickly. Her tone betrayed her discomfort; she did not wish to lie, but felt disloyal at criticising her family, no matter how exasperating they were.

  “Why did you not go?” Alexander demanded, his laughter gone. He was quick to pick up on the uncomfortable tone in her voice.

  “It was nothing,” Amelia said. “Shall we continue our walk?”

  “Miss Basingstoke, I would never have expected anything from you but complete honesty. From our first meeting you have said exactly what you think. I’m disappointed you don’t regard me enough to tell me the truth,” Alexander said, showing the glower that Amelia had seen so often the previous season.

  “It’s not that,” Amelia said defensively. She sighed. “I don’t want to tell you because I’d have to reveal more of my family than I would wish to be public knowledge.”

  “Tell me,” Alexander said, but his tone was gentle.

  “I upset my aunt yesterday, so she forbade me from attending the ball,” Amelia admitted.

  “What could you have possibly done that would result in that punishment?” Alexander asked astounded. He wondered how Lady Basingstoke could treat her niece as if she were a naughty schoolchild instead of the young lady that she was.

  Amelia laughed a little. “I did not embroider her handkerchief to the standard she required,” Amelia said with a shrug. “It was nothing; I didn’t mind. There was no chance that my presence was missed; I did not disappoint any gentlemen by my absence.” Her words were said lightly, but they could not fully hide the slight hurt in her voice.

  “I’m sorry,” Alexander said.

  “What for?” Amelia asked.

  “For not finding you that ship to send your relatives away,” Alexander replied, but he had reached out his hand.

  Amelia instinctively put her hand in his and gasped when Alexander immediately put her hand to his lips and kissed it. She might be wearing gloves, but she felt the pressure of his lips and blushed furiously. She laughed a little to try to break the serious air that had descended on them.

  Alexander smiled. “That’s the first time I’ve ever made a young lady laugh by kissing her hand!”

  “And have there been many young ladies?” Amelia asked archly.

  “Far too many to count. Everyone loves a man of His Majesty’s Navy,” Alexander said, puffing out his chest.

  “Oh, I know; I saw the crowds flocking around you during my first season!” Amelia said, betraying that she had watched him.

  “The crowds that disappeared the moment I was not the perfect specimen?” Alexander said with a sneer.

  “Well, Samson and I have benefited from their absence,” Amelia said with feeling.

  “I’d much rather have your company than theirs,” Alexander said honestly.

  Amelia suppressed the thought that, if things had been the same, he would never have been in her company. “Thank you, but Samson will be getting bored; let’s move,” she said, standing.

  They continued their walk, the first few moments in silence. “Does Sir Jeremy never take Samson out?” Alexander asked.

  “No. He says that he would get rid of him, except he would lose money,” Amelia said. “I would miss him, though; he is the nicest person in the house.”

  Alexander felt a pang of guilt, but pushed it aside. “I rate Samson highly, but it’s a sorry state of affairs if he is your favourite. Do your parents know you are unhappy?”

  “Oh no!” Amelia said. “I would never be so ungrateful as to complain about the opportunity they arranged for me. I have enjoyed some of my time in London; it has been an experience I will never forget.”

  “Probably for all the wrong reasons,” Alexander said drily and was rewarded with a quiet laugh.

  “It’s unfair to make me admit how flawed my relations are,” Amelia said, still smiling. “Most people I meet would consider them perfect in comparison to my own. My brothers have occupations and would not be approved of.”

  “I know. We are all fools,” Alexander responded, including himself in his condemnation. He had been a fool in the past, dismissing people because of their rank or lack of it. His two most helpful, supportive, compassionate friends were both untitled.

  “I can’t argue with you on that point,” Amelia responded, happy when Alexander grinned at her. He was even more handsome when he smiled, but the boyish grin made her stomach twist and her breath catch. For the first time in her life, she wished she had a dowry or something that would have attracted someone like Captain Worthington. She shook herself and smiled at the valet when they returned to the park entrance; there was nothing to gain in longing for the impossible. She was who she was, and the sooner she returned to her own social sphere the better.

  *

  Mr Richard Critchley was to get one of the biggest surprises he had experienced in the last few months when he visited his friend next. Alexander greeted Richard with a smile and a warm welcome that had not been forthcoming in his dark days.

  “Ri
chard! Just the person I needed to speak to! Come in! You’ve saved me sending round a missive to you,” Alexander said, pouring them a drink. He knew Richard did not mind the technique Alexander used to prevent spillages. A finger inside the glass helped to indicate when the liquid was up to the required level. Not everyone would appreciate such a method, but it meant that the friends could enjoy privacy, and Alexander could still feel like he was master in his own house.

  Alexander held out the glass which Richard took, and they both sat down. “So, Alex, what can I do for you? Is it another night out you wish for?” Richard asked pleasantly.

  “Never! I’m not that foolish! I need you to find a way that I can speak to Sir Jeremy Basingstoke without needing to go to the house,” Alexander explained.

  Richard saw the way that Alexander was glowing and immediately became more alert. “Why on earth would you wish to speak to him?”

  “I’ve been working with his dog every morning, and I want to buy him so I can continue the work here in my own home and local area. I think I’ve found the solution to my confinement.”

  “You’d better explain,” Richard said quietly.

  Alexander was only too willing to explain what had gone on and the plans he had for what he hoped Samson would be able to do with further training. “I need to spend far more time with him than I am at the moment,” Alexander continued. “An hour each morning, if I’m lucky, just isn’t enough.”

  “Don’t you think it will appear odd that you want to buy a dog that has been labelled useless?” Richard asked.

  “I don’t care about that and neither will Sir Jeremy as long as I pay the right price.” Alexander dismissed the worried tone of Richard’s voice.

  “And won’t he think it strange you have so much knowledge of the dog?”