28
Eight courses—very impressive!” Theodora handed the evening’s dinner menu back to Mrs. MacAuley.
“As it’s to be Miss Simmons’s first foray oot of the sickroom, I thought we should celebrate a bit.”
“Are you certain Cook can prepare all that? He normally runs the galley on one of Conner’s ships. I wouldn’t think he’d know how to make turtle soup.”
“He knows, for he drew oop the menu himself. Mr. Douglas dinnae travel like other privateers. He’s civilized.”
In some ways, yes, while in others— Theodora hid a pleasurable shiver. “I’m glad you have Cook to help in the kitchens.”
Mrs. MacAuley beamed. “I should nae say anything, but oh, miss! The day before yesterday, the master stopped me in the hall and gave me an extra two hundred and fifty pounds for the household budget.”
“Excellent!” Theodora had known Conner had been in the house, and she’d kept herself tucked away with Jane so that she wouldn’t have to see him alone. Temptation, thy name is Conner.
“But there’s more.” Mrs. MacAuley looked as if she might burst with pride. “He said he was going to put Dunskey to rights! He said that as soon as his fleet was back in good fettle, he’d send more workmen here to finish oop repairs on the house.”
Theodora moistened her dry lips. “Did he say why he was doing that?”
“He just said it was time.”
“Do you—” The words caught in Theodora’s throat and she had to swallow before she could speak again. “Do you think he’ll stay here, then? Live here?”
Mrs. MacAuley’s expression dimmed a bit. “Nae. I heard Spencer and the others saying two of the ships are nigh ready to sail again, and the cap’n has been after them to finish the rest, for he’s anxious to be off.”
“So he’s leaving again.” And when he did, he’d take her heart with him. Theodora pretended to examine her cuff as she hid a sudden spate of tears.
“Aye. But at least Dunskey will be left in better fettle than before.”
“Good. I’m glad he’s taking his stewardship of the house more seriously.” Sadder than she’d ever been before, Theodora glanced at the clock. “I must go see Miss Jane. Lance has been reading to her for almost two hours now. He will be hoarse, do I not return.”
“Yes, miss.” With a quick curtsy, Mrs. MacAuley left.
Theodora made her way to Jane’s room, her slippers silent on the thick carpets. Outside the room she found Alice asleep at her post, a candelabra and a polishing rag resting in her lap. Theodora tiptoed past the sleeping maid. “Jane, I—”
Lance stood with his arms around Jane, his hands sunk in her hair, his mouth over hers. He immediately broke the embrace and stepped away, looking both flushed and pleased.
Theodora blinked. “Oops.”
Jane hid her face in her hands, gasping “No!” over and over.
Stifling a laugh, Theodora closed the door and leaned against it. “You two!”
“Please!” Jane threw out a hand, keeping her eyes covered with the other. “Don’t say it! We shouldn’t have—”
“No, you should have. I’m just surprised it took you so long.”
Jane dropped her hand from her eyes. “Theodora! You’re not angry?”
“Not even a little.” She looked at Lance. “I take it you haven’t told her?”
His face red, he gave an awkward laugh. “I was going to, but then she looked at me in such a way that I couldn’t help but kiss her—” He looked at Jane, his face aglow with wonder. “I tried to resist you.”
“But you didn’t,” Jane said mournfully. “And you’re engaged to Theodora! Lance, we—”
“Actually, I’m not.”
Jane’s eyes widened. “But . . . Theodora, when—what—”
Theodora laughed. “It’s true. Lance and I ended our engagement before we arrived at Dunskey.”
“But you never said a word to anyone!”
“It’s a complicated story, one I’m sure Lance will share with you.” Theodora smiled, some of her own sadness dissolving in the happiness that shone from her friends’ faces. “In the meantime, there’s something I must do, so if you two don’t mind, I’ll leave you alone to discuss your future.”
Without waiting for another word, she took her leave, trying not to feel too envious of the happiness that filled the room behind her.
“She is an angel!” Lance, bright with love, strode across the sitting room after the celebration dinner. Jane had excused herself after the final course, saying she was tired, and had left Lance to Theodora’s company.
He grinned at her now. “I’ve never felt so— She’s just the most— I’m the most fortunate man in the world!”
Theodora found his enthusiasm charming. “Your mother and sisters will welcome Jane far quicker than they would have welcomed me.”
“Oh yes.” He flushed. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean they wouldn’t have welcomed you. They would welcome any woman I took to wife, but you are—” He grimaced. “I should stop speaking, shouldn’t I?”
Theodora laughed. “Yes, please do.”
“You will come to the wedding, won’t you? Jane says you must.”
“Nothing could keep me away. I predict a very happy future for you both.”
Lance beamed. “She is everything.” His gaze moved to Theodora, and his smile faded. “But . . . what about you?”
“Me?” She paused. “I don’t know.”
Lance drew up a chair and took her hand between his own. “We must talk about Conner Douglas.”
She quickly stood. “No.”
“We must. I’m responsible for you being here. And I’ve been watching you lately, which is why I must ask about Conner. You’re avoiding him. Is there a reason?”
She sighed, but sat down again.
“You love him.”
“Perhaps.”
Lance raised his brows.
Theodora threw up a hand. “Fine. I do. I have for a long time. But it’s useless; he will never settle down and marry. He’s said as much, although he didn’t need to, for I already knew it.”
“I see.” Lance sighed. “Then there’s no hope? You’re certain of it?”
“I am.”
“Then that makes what I have to say all the easier. Jane and I are leaving in the morning, and we want you to go with us. In fact, we insist.”
Theodora frowned. “You already discussed this?”
Lance flushed. “We consider you one of our dearest friends and . . . well, it’s obvious something happened between you and Conner.”
Theodora sighed. “We must ask the doctor if Jane can travel.”
“I did, this afternoon. So long as she avoids damp drafts, he thinks she will benefit from going home.”
“To her home? You’re not taking her to Poston?”
“After the wedding, which will be as soon as possible. But you can’t stay here once we leave; it wouldn’t be proper.” When she started to speak, he threw up his hand. “And don’t say your reputation is already ruined by our elopement, for Jane and I have a solution for that, as well. We’ll tell people I was eloping with Jane, and that you came as her chaperone.”
“But Jane—”
“Is getting married to me. No one will say a word, and if they do, we’re fairly sure her sister-in-law would crush such rumors before they’re even uttered. She’s very protective of her own reputation and is quite a formidable woman.”
Theodora paused. That would indeed work—not that it mattered. Since she wasn’t going to marry Conner, she wouldn’t marry anyone.
But Lance was right about one thing—it was time to leave. She managed a smile. Though her heart ached at the realization that she’d never see Conner again, it had to be so, for her own peace of mind if not his. “It’s decided, then. I’ll go with you.”
Looking pleased, Lance stood. “Excellent! I wish to leave at eight sharp, as we’ll need to stop several times along the way. Jane will need to rest frequently.”
“Of course.”
“We’re settled, then. I’ll go tell Jane.” With a ridiculously pleased grin, he left.
Theodora sank back into her chair, the house quiet. Conner was still with his men on his ship and, as he’d done every night since his fleet had returned to port, would not return until late.
Although the fire crackled loudly, and the house was still filled with the delicate scent of their excellent dinner, Theodora shivered at the emptiness. This would be her last night here. Her last night with Conner, although he wouldn’t know that. He’d come back late, and she’d leave early in the morning, and they would never see one another again.
Tears blurred her vision, and she picked up a decorative pillow and hugged it, resting her cheek on the silky surface. She had to at least say good-bye. Sighing heavily, she curled into the wide winged armchair and watched the fire.