‘What do you think of the captain?’ he asked in a low voice as they strolled out to the waiting carriage.
‘He strikes me as quite the man about town. He’s already caught Annette’s attention.’
‘Any man with a pocketbook catches her fancy,’ George huffed. ‘You shouldn’t let her have him.’
‘I have no interest in a Navy man, especially one with a thin London polish.’
‘He’s no Simon, if that’s what you’re worried about. He’s rich, too. Thanks, I might say, in part to many of my lucrative schemes.’
Julia suppressed a laugh, knowing how proud Uncle George was of the numerous profitable ventures he’d embarked on during his time in the Navy. ‘Why did the captain resign?’
‘George, stop gossiping and get in,’ Captain Covington interrupted from beside the open carriage door. ‘No need to give away all my secrets on the first day.’
‘Not possible, Jim. You’ve got too many.’ Uncle George chuckled.
‘May I?’ Captain Covington held out his hand, a playful smile lighting up his face. Julia reached for his upturned palm, hesitating a moment before pushing against the strength of it to step up into the carriage.
‘Thank you.’ She didn’t dare meet his eyes, but slid across the squabs and settled in next to the far window, her hand still tingling from his touch. Uncle George sat beside her in an attempt to place some distance between her, Annette and Simon and she was grateful. The captain took a seat across from them, next to Annette, much to the chit’s visible delight.
Simon paused to adjust his cravat, then carefully climbed into the carriage, moving like an old lady to avoid wrinkling his morning coat. The door closed behind him, but Simon wasn’t fully seated when Uncle George rapped on the roof. The vehicle sprung into motion, throwing Simon into the seat next to his sister.
‘I say,’ Simon complained to George.
‘Sorry about that.’ George shrugged, unruffled by Simon’s outburst.
‘Men can be so silly, don’t you agree, Captain Covington?’ Annette laughed, reprimanding her brother with a look he pointedly ignored.
‘Yes, they can be.’ The captain allowed the conversation to drop, watching the countryside pass by outside the window, a strange melancholy clouding his face. Julia noted the way the afternoon sunlight spread over his features, highlighting a very small scar on his cheek and giving him a bit of mystery and depth she’d never seen in any London gentleman. Then his eyes darted to hers and she turned away, her heart fluttering, the heat in the carriage rising sharply.
What’s wrong with me? she wondered, touching the warm skin of her neck. It wasn’t like her to act so hen-witted in the company of a man, especially a Navy rake like the captain. Struggling to regain control, she concentrated on the river flowing in the gully below the road. No matter how much she focused on the clear water pouring over the rocks, the captain lingered on the edge of her vision. When she dared to look at him again, she found him still smiling at her.
‘Captain Covington, were you at Lady Wellsingham’s ball last month?’ Annette asked.
‘No, I’m afraid business kept me away,’ he answered with a slight frown before covering it with a gracious smile.
Perhaps he’s not so taken by London charms, Julia mused, sitting back to observe the conversation with a new interest.
‘What a pity. You would have enjoyed it. All anyone could talk about was Lord Langston’s comment on Napoleon. He said the Emperor’s coat was too tight to suit a real gentleman, and if the Emperor had a better tailor, he might not be so fond of war.’
‘I thought politics a taboo subject at balls?’ Julia asked, more to annoy her stepcousin than out of any real interest.
‘We were discussing Lord Langston’s comment, not politics,’ Annette arrogantly clarified. ‘Surely you’ve heard of the earl, even here?’
Julia bit back a sharp retort, struggling through gritted teeth to remain cordial.
‘Yes. Charles keeps me abreast of the latest London news, though I pay it no mind. I hardly feel the comments of a man who thinks only of clothes and dancing is worth the breath to spread it. Were he a man of actual accomplishments, such as Lord Nelson, I might take more interest in what he has to say.’
‘Here, here, Julia.’ George slapped his knee and Annette pursed her thin lips.
‘Sounds like a rather American idea to me, Miss Howard,’ Captain Covington asked.
‘Have you been to America, Captain?’ Julia asked.
‘Yes, it’s an interesting country.’
‘I don’t agree with the Americans. The French followed their example and all their patriotism and liberty turned out dreadful,’ Annette interjected, but both Julia and Captain Covington ignored the remark.
‘I’m a great admirer of Mr Jefferson. Are you familiar with his agricultural inventions?’ Julia asked.
‘Yes, I read one of his books while I was in London. I read quite a number of books while I was at home.’ He paused, watching his left hand open and close before he looked up at her again. ‘I don’t recall the specific of Mr Jefferson’s designs, but I remember them being quite innovative.’
‘He devised a plough specifically for hills. It’s proved most beneficial to Knollwood,’ she volunteered, encouraged by his response. ‘Like Mr Jefferson, I’ve discovered the best way to develop new techniques is to ask the workers. I regularly speak with mine to keep abreast of their progress and any potential problems.’
‘How plebian to be so familiar with your servants,’ Annette sneered.
Julia went silent, the conspicuous difference between her and her London cousin making her self-conscious.
‘I agree, Miss Howard, servants are often aware of more than their employers realise,’ the captain offered with a smile.
‘Indeed, they know the land and conditions better than anyone else.’
Careful not to gloat over the obvious check to Annette’s mocking remark, Julia continued her discussion of agriculture, encouraged by the captain’s extensive knowledge. The bulk of it came from books, but he asked many questions about the practical application, eager to learn. While they spoke, Julia watched the way Annette hung on his every word, fluttering her eyelashes at him while praising his wit and intelligence. Each compliment brought a smile to his face and as much as Julia’s opinion of him rose with their current discussion, his apparent infatuation with Annette lowered it. Perhaps the captain thought her cousin a better country amusement than Julia. After all, the way Annette fawned on him made her interest apparent. How typical of a man to fall prey to such a shallow woman.
* * *
The carriage rattled into town, coming to a stop near the centre of the High Street. James stepped out into the crisp autumn air and took a deep breath. Being confined for so long next to Miss Taylor reminded him of a tight gun deck on a humid day in the islands. Only Miss Howard’s airy voice and sparkling eyes offered any respite from Miss Taylor’s cloying company.
‘What an exile,’ Mr Taylor sighed, taking in Daringford’s dusty streets lined with shops. ‘I’ll return shortly.’
‘I thought you were going to stay with me?’ Miss Taylor whined as James handed her out of the carriage.
Mr Taylor ignored her, strolling off towards the Sign of the Swan tavern, much to his sister’s visible displeasure.
James turned back to the carriage to help Miss Howard out, only to see her alight from the other side before hurrying around to join them.
‘I’m afraid I must leave you as well,’ George announced. ‘I