Catching Captain Nash (Dashing Widows #6)(23)
His exhaustion upon returning to the closed carriage demonstrated more than anything else how right Morwenna was to suggest a stay in the country. That, and his prickling resentment of the prying looks wherever he turned. He and Silas had had to leave Nash House through the back gate to avoid the crowds on the front steps, and people had pointed at Silas’s carriage as they’d driven through London. Inside the Admiralty, he’d caught the clerks’ barely concealed curiosity as he was ushered from office to office.
Clearly the news of how he’d turned up to spoil his wife’s engagement party was all over Town. He couldn’t blame people for their interest. Good God, if he wasn’t its cause, he might even enjoy the scandal. But after his long imprisonment, all those avid, interested eyes made his skin crawl.
“Well, thank God that’s done.” Silas stretched his long legs into the well between the seats. “You should be officially out of the navy after New Year, and you’re on leave until Christmas.”
“Thanks to you.” Silas had seen Robert’s discomfort with reliving his ordeal, and had taken charge of most of the meetings. “They’re even going to pay me for while I was away. You were masterly negotiating that.”
“So they damn well should, after the sacrifices you’ve made for your country.”
“I wasn’t sure I’d receive such a good hearing.” As the coach lurched into motion, Robert placed his—well, Silas’s—hat on the seat. “You have to admit it’s an outlandish story. I could have been sitting on a tropical island with a dusky maiden on my knee, instead of locked up in a foul cell the size of a cupboard. How could they know otherwise?”
“Nobody who looks at you could question that you’ve been to hell and back.” Silas smiled, his quirky features alight. “At least you kept your temper.”
“It was a close-run thing.”
“By heaven, I know. And despite the country being at peace, they weren’t too eager to let you go.”
Robert shrugged and glanced out the window. He struggled not to shrink from the noise and activity filling the streets. Had he ever felt at home in this teeming city? After such a restricted existence, London struck him as nothing but chaos and cacophony. “I doubt I’m fit for command.”
“It’s early days yet. Compared to the wild-eyed savage who invaded my house last night, you’re almost civilized.”
“Thank you,” Robert said drily. He reached up to pull the blind over the window. He felt like every eye in the city focused on him.
“They’ve left the way open, if you change your mind and decide to pick up your career.” Silas pulled down his blind, too, enclosing them in a private space.
Robert was shaking his head. “I’ve already lost too much time with Morwenna and Kerenza. I’m not signing up to do anything that takes me away from them for years on end.”
“Well, I can’t say I’m sorry.” Silas’s voice lowered into seriousness. “We’ve missed you like the devil. And never mistake how Morwenna grieved for you. Don’t be fooled by what you saw last night. She’s been loyal to you since you left.”
His wife had stayed faithful to him. The knowledge filled him with poignant gratitude. And wonder that she’d kept so steadfast, when all hope was gone.
“Do you think I don’t know that? Morwenna and I will work everything out.” He hoped to hell he wasn’t being fatuously optimistic. He and his wife had made a good start, but he didn’t fool himself that making a life together after so long apart would be easy—or quickly resolved.
“I hope so. You’ve found yourself a grand girl there, and losing you broke her heart. When she accepted Garson, it was very much as second best. Which is a pity for the poor devil, because he was in love with her.”
Poor devil, indeed. Robert was surprised to feel a moment’s pity for his rival. “I don’t care. She’s mine. She’s always been mine.”
“Delighted to hear it.” Silas’s hazel eyes held no hint of his usual humor. “If you want some advice from an old married man, make sure she knows you feel that way. It’s been a damnably lonely wait for her, and I doubt she’s ready to take anything for granted, least of all that you still love her.”
“I do.” He was surprised how easily the declaration emerged. Discussions with his brother had never ventured into such profoundly emotional territory before.
“I know.” Silas’s lips curled in a smug smile, visible through the gloom.
A thoughtful silence descended, underscored by the patter of rain on the carriage roof. Last night, this hiatus would have been uncomfortable. Brimming with the powerful responses that his return had stirred up. Powerful responses Robert hadn’t felt able to deal with, not if he wished to preserve an ounce of pride.
Silas was right. He’d come a long way in a short time. God bless Morwenna. What little peace he’d found since returning, he owed to her.
A desperate longing, so powerful he could taste it, overtook him. He loved his brother. He always had. And he looked forward to getting to know him all over again. But right now, he ached to see his wife.
Robert had joked about taking her in the carriage as they rolled away from the Admiralty. It didn’t seem such a joke anymore. When everything overwhelmed him, only the hot, wet grip of her body set the world turning in the right direction. He was likely to become a rapacious satyr before he was done.