At the Captain's Command. Louise M. Gouge

Dinah must have a new gown. Now we may not have enough time to make it.”

      Dinah’s heart skipped. She would love something new to wear to such a grand event, but unlike her cousin Rachel, she had never been a swift seamstress.

      “Why does she require a new gown?” Artemis still looked flushed. “Such an unnecessary expense—”

      “Now, Hussey,” Thomas said, “surely you know ladies always must have a new gown for these occasions.”

      “I know no such thing.” Artemis dropped back into his wingback chair. “But now that my surprise has been ruined, I will tell the rest of it. Miss Templeton, I have arranged for Mr. Richland to accompany you.”

      Dinah saw Thomas’s gaze cut quickly to her, but she felt too stunned to reply. Mr. Richland owned a plantation. Not only was the man a slaveholder, but he was many years her senior and even had a son near her age. Would Artemis never cease his efforts to marry her to unsuitable men? And what of the captain’s statement, spoken in front of her friends, that he would escort her to the ball? She could not keep from looking at him and knew her expression conveyed the dismay she felt.

      He sent her a reassuring smile. “But this will not do.” His smooth, controlled words held a world of authority. “I have promised to take my sister-in-law to the ball myself.”

      “But—” Artemis’s face contorted into a variety of expressions, from anger to confusion to helplessness.

      Once again Dinah subdued her desire to laugh. Never before had anyone intervened for her as the captain had done today—twice. Her heart warmed even as she cautioned herself against putting too much into the matter. His words proved clearly that he regarded her as his kinswoman, and his actions were simply in keeping with that relationship. She dismissed the disappointment that tried to creep into her with that thought.

      In any case, pleasant and a very good friend though the captain might be, he was in the navy.

      Thomas wended his way through the streets back to the transformed Franciscan monastery that now served as military barracks. Billeted there, he and his officers found comfortable accommodations and respite from sea duty. Today, he would be pleased to find respite from his own nagging conscience. Not since his foolish adolescence and those first few years in naval service had he struggled so fiercely with his temper. In fact, his steady disposition was an attribute that had often earned him promotions over his fellow officers—that, and his father’s influence, of course.

      A stray thought interrupted his line of thinking. He had often wondered if his eldest brother would maintain Father’s influence for him or if Thomas’s advancements would cease. The uncertainty alone was unsettling, but not enough to cause him to abandon self-control. A captain’s temperament must be dependable, not erratic. Therefore he must ascertain the cause of this odd rage within him.

      Perhaps the fine church service had stirred his soul, for he found himself lifting a rare prayer that he might know the cause of this weakness. The hawk-like face of Artemis Hussey came to mind, but Thomas rejected such a simple answer. Yes, of course, the man was irritating. But even if he did not display sufficient generosity toward Dinah, he did permit her to live in his home during these difficult times for all Loyalists on these shores. And what choice did she have but to live with the Husseys?

      The answer came in the form of another more confounding question that halted Thomas in his path. Why did the young lady live here in this city with such a disagreeable fellow when she could be safely and amiably housed at Bennington Plantation? Renewed anger surged through Thomas’s chest, and he strode toward his barracks while more questions sprang to mind, all directed toward another man who had never been anything but disagreeable to him. A man who should have seen to Dinah’s care just as he had to his sister’s.

      Frederick Moberly, his spoiled younger half-brother.

      By the time Thomas reached his apartments and his steward had relieved him of his ceremonial sword and jacket and placed a cooling beverage in his hand, he had a fair understanding of what motivated his rage. He had no wish ever to see little Freddy again, much less to convey news of their father’s death. Had he not promised to escort Dinah and Dr. and Mrs. Wellsey through the wilderness to the plantation, and were he not eager to see dear Marianne and her young son, he would dash off a note to Freddy to accompany their eldest brother’s letter.

      A wicked thought crossed his mind and he made no attempt to stop it. Perhaps the trip would not be so bad after all if he could witness Freddy’s distress upon learning their father no longer lived and therefore could not ensure his employment.

      Guilt smote him. What had Dinah reminded him of from this morning’s sermon? Every person stood in need of grace from time to time and therefore should be willing to extend it to those who offended him. But then, Dinah did not have a brother like Freddy.