Catching Captain Nash (Dashing Widows #6)(4)

She and her husband had missed out on so much. Was it too late to find each other again?

Or was the break irreparable?

Studying this stern man in his rough sailor’s clothes, she couldn’t feel confident of a happy ending. Misery tightened her belly, and she sagged where she stood.

Caro came to take Morwenna’s arm. “Are you all right?”

She nodded, although she was far from sure. A torrent of words pressed against her trembling lips, but her husband’s closed expression kept her silent.

“Rob, I didn’t think I’d ever see you again.” Amy stood on shaky legs and stumbled across to hug her brother. “I’m so happy that you’re alive.”

The paralysis that had gripped everyone gradually eased. The shock that had felt like horror, but was really astounded, incomprehensible elation, now softened to something a little more bearable.

Robert even seemed less awkward with human contact as he bent to hug his sister. In Silas’s embrace, he’d looked ready to fight or run. The man Morwenna had married had always worn a smile. This man hadn’t smiled once, although surely he must be glad to be back.

And he’d given no sign that he remembered his wife with any special fondness. No sign except that furious cry denying Garson’s claim on her.

Now those fathomless eyes met hers as he leaned over a sobbing Amy. Morwenna caught a flash of something that could be vulnerability. He looked away before she could be sure. But this was the first hint that the man she’d married might lurk somewhere inside this forbidding stranger.

“Robert, let me tell you…” she said in a croak that faded to nothing. Appeal? Apology? Welcome? She wasn’t sure herself. But he didn’t hear her over the hubbub in the room.

The crowd slowly dispersed. The men clapped Robert and Silas on the back in congratulations, while the women smiled. Or if they were sentimental, dabbed their eyes with lace handkerchiefs. A few curious souls lingered as the ranks thinned, hoping for some gossip to take away. But Silas and his staff were polite but relentless in clearing the house.

If those who appreciated a scandal wished to witness a brawl between the newly resurrected husband and the recently deposed fiancé, they would have been doomed to disappointment.

“Morwenna, can I do anything to help?” Garson turned to her with the consideration she’d learned to appreciate over the last months.

Automatically she presented her hand, and he bowed over it. Since she’d accepted his offer of marriage, he usually kissed her fingers. Not tonight.

“You’re very kind,” she said, and meant it. His face expressed only concern for her. Any darker feelings remained masked. “Especially when...”

His faint smile was more proof of his gallantry. “Clearly we weren’t meant to be.” He glanced across to where Amy smiled up at Robert with unadulterated happiness.

How Morwenna envied Robert’s family’s uncomplicated reaction to his return. She wanted to smile and laugh and cheer, too, but she couldn’t shake off her memory of that accusing glare when he saw her holding Garson’s hand. “Yes, but…”

Garson stopped her, which was a mercy, as she had no idea what she meant to say. “I’m glad for your sake he’s back.”

A muscle jerked in his cheek, a hint of the effort it took to say that.

“Thank you.” She felt Robert watching her again, then she realized Garson still held her hand. She withdrew, praying she didn’t look as guilty as she felt.

“It’s best if I go. Send word if you need me.”

“I will.” Except the sad truth was that now the man she loved was here, Garson, for all his many marvelous qualities, had become irrelevant.

Love was a ruthless master.

He bowed again and left, the last guest to go.

She supposed she could approach Robert, insist on taking her place beside him. She was his wife, after all. But something about his rigid stance kept her marooned where she was. She’d barely shifted from where she’d stood when Silas had made the heartfelt speech about welcoming his good friend Lord Garson into the family. If Caro hadn’t been holding her arm, she’d have felt alone indeed.

Morwenna had always imagined that if the unbelievable happened and Robert came back, she’d launch herself into his arms without a second thought. But Robert in her fantasies had been the charmer she’d married. An invisible wall surrounded this austere revenant. At least as far as his wife was concerned.

Which didn’t stop her longing to touch him to prove he was real, the way someone perishing of thirst burned for a drop of water.

Through the ocean of conflicting emotions engulfing her, she drank in the details of his appearance. His hair was too long, and ragged with a bad cut. Whiskers shadowed his jaw. This, too, was familiar. He’d always had a vigorous beard.

“This calls for a celebration indeed.” Silas signaled to the butler. “Champagne, Hunter.”

Ignoring her half-hearted resistance, Caro drew Morwenna forward. Robert showed no reaction to his wife coming to stand a foot away from him. A chill ran up her spine, and she shivered.

Caro noticed and mouthed the word “courage.” Then she released Morwenna and laid a hand on Silas’s arm. “Perhaps we should save our carousing until tomorrow, darling. This has been the most wonderful night, and we all have so much to find out. But it’s late, and Robert looks ready to drop where he stands.”