Catching Captain Nash (Dashing Widows #6)(14)

“Undoubtedly, brat,” Silas said with a laugh. He reached out and took Caro’s hand. “I imagine we’re the talk of London this morning.”

“I’m sorry for Garson,” Caro said, then glanced horrified at Morwenna. “Oh, I beg your pardon. You probably don’t want to hear his name mentioned.”

“I feel bad for him, too, although I can’t be sorry that Robert’s come back to us.”

“And Robert slept through the night without telling you anything more? That’s just unbelievable,” Amy said, earning her a disgusted glance from her handsome husband.

“We went straight to sleep,” Morwenna said, hoping the heat in her cheeks wasn’t visible. Because of course they’d done more than sleep.

This morning when she’d got out of bed, a few twinges had reminded her that she’d done things last night she hadn’t done in a long, long time. And there were chafed patches on her neck where his beard had burned her.

He used to shave twice a day to save branding her, but last night, she wasn’t even sure he’d been properly awake when he created that glorious magic. He hadn’t spoken a word, although she’d gathered from his incoherent sounds of pleasure that she hadn’t disappointed him.

Or perhaps he just appreciated the availability of a warm female body, and any woman would have met his needs.

She didn’t like that idea at all.

This morning, she wore a dress with a high pleated collar. When Morwenna had come downstairs, Caro had settled a thoughtful gaze upon her gown, but for once discretion had won out. Which was unexpected. Her sister-in-law wasn’t renowned for her tact.

“Well, I think it’s unnatural,” Amy said.

Morwenna was saved from answering when the door opened to admit Robert. Her heart slammed to a stop, and the memories of last night ripped through her, made her blood surge with heat. Even bearing the mark of his travails, he was a man to make a woman look twice.

“Robert, old man, come in, come in. Let me get you something to eat.” Silas was on his feet and clapping his brother on the shoulder.

Morwenna wondered if she alone saw the faint alarm in Robert’s eyes as he surveyed the five people ranged around the table. She’d realized quickly that he was uncomfortable mingling with groups of people. Including his beloved family.

“Thank you for lending me something fit to wear,” he said.

Silas smiled at Morwenna. “Thank your wife. She suggested I dig something out of the wardrobe for you and send along my valet to help you tidy up.”

“I feel almost presentable.” Self-consciously he touched his newly cut hair.

“You’re a proper gentleman again.” Caro rose and moved forward to kiss him on the cheek, before she poured him some coffee from the silver pot.

He looked much more like the polished man Morwenna had married. He was cleanly shaven and dressed for Town. If the smart black coat hung too loose on his frame, it was a small flaw in his overall appearance.

“Thank you.” He moved into the room to kiss Amy’s cheek and shake hands with Pascal. Morwenna noticed his well-hidden reluctance and was glad she hadn’t pushed him to explanations last night, desperate as she was to know what had happened to him.

“I gather congratulations are in order,” Robert said.

“Yes, your sister made me the happiest of men six months ago.” Pascal bestowed a fond glance on his wife.

Silas had filled a plate to overflowing with food from the sideboard and placed it on the table. Robert sat down next to Morwenna. She watched him so closely, she saw how he paled at the sight of all those glistening sausages and kidneys and rashers of bacon. Swiftly she rose and took the plate away before he was sick.

“You’ve all been very patient,” Robert said, swallowing and picking up his cup of coffee with a gallantly concealed shudder. “I appreciate it.”

Morwenna hid the loaded plate behind one of the silver serving dishes on the sideboard and brought him some fresh rolls. His glance expressed his gratitude. Silas noticed, but was sensitive enough not to comment on the rejection of his offering.

“Eat first,” he said, earning a resentful look from Amy.

“No, it’s best I talk.” Robert straightened, and the flicker of a muscle in his cheek indicated the ordeal this would be for him.

“We can wait,” Morwenna said, finding the courage to lay her hand over his clenched fist where it rested on the tablecloth. “It’s been five years. Another day won’t hurt us.”

She wondered if he’d twitch her away. Under her touch, he was as tight as a drawn bowstring. But after a moment, he turned his hand over to lace his fingers through hers.

“No, you need to know.” But instead of continuing, he fell silent and stared ahead at nothing.

“The last we heard, you’d been attacked by pirates off Patagonia. You were shot and fell into the sea.” The grim edge to Silas’s voice reflected the pall that had fallen over the family when the news finally reached them. “Everyone we spoke to agreed that after that, there was no sighting of you. The lieutenant ordered a boat out to find you, once the pirates had been repelled, but nobody held out any hope. How the devil did you manage to come back alive from that?”

Robert shook his head, and his hooded gaze focused on his brother. “I remember the cannonball striking me in the shoulder and taking me over the side with some rigging. I must have hit my head. I came to, tangled in some ropes and colder than I’d ever been in my life. The ship was a mere speck on the horizon. I don’t think they looked too hard or too long, by God. I was bleeding, but the worst was the freezing water. I managed to get myself up onto a plank, but I must say I thought my goose was cooked.”