Martha Schroeder Read Online Free Page A

to breakfast with you and see if we could interest you in the village concert that’s being held this evening.” Gerald’s expression was bland.
    “We?” Meg’s voice went up an octave. Oh, no! Dear Lord, please don’t let me have made a complete fool of myself! And before breakfast. “You mean you and—
    “Yes, the captain and I came together.” Meg could see the gleam of laughter in his eyes. “Fortunately for you, you brazen hussy, he stopped at the stable to speak to one of your lads.”
    “Thank heaven!”
    “While we have a minute, tell me, what made you decide so quickly? Are things as bad as that? If they are, I could—”
    “No, no, Gerald, truly, I do not need to be towed out of the River Tick at this moment.”
    Gerald scowled at her, then held out his hand across the table. “You do know that I am ever at your service, don’t you, Meg?”
    “Of course I do. I have always known it, my dear.” Meg’s smile was radiant as she took his hand in hers. Gerald was the best friend anyone could ask for.
    Standing quietly just outside the door, James saw that smile and the clasp of hands, and felt an unexpected arrow of pain streak through him. It had been years since someone had smiled at him so warmly. Claire had done so more than once, but the last time he had driven her away, as he had anyone after her who tried to break through the armor that guarded his heart.
    Until this moment, he had believed that his need for such a gesture of warmth and friendship—even more than friendship— had died. But now this feeling was as strong as it was unexpected. His life had been essentially solitary; command at an early age had isolated him from the men under him. His strange upbringing and lack of family connections had left him used to loneliness. Until now ... when he suddenly felt ferociously jealous of Gerald Mattingly and his easy friendship with Lady Meg. Gerald had been all that was kind to James, but in this moment, if James could have fought him to take Gerald’s place in her life, he would have.
    Then the moment passed, and he was once again aware only of the sense of being outside some sort of charmed circle of warmth and good fellowship. That was a feeling he recognized. It had accompanied him during most of his life, though never as strongly before. Lady Meg, what have you done to me? He didn’t want to occupy his usual place on the outside, looking in. If he could bring himself to show such cowardice, he would flee right now.
    Instead, he stepped into the dining room, with a smile on his lips. “Good morning,” he said in what sounded to his ears like an even voice.
    He noticed that Lady Meg flushed becomingly. It made her look truly lovely instead of just passably pretty, and he found himself wishing once again that he could somehow manage to earn a welcome into the warmth and light that surrounded her.
    “Good morning, Captain,” she said with a smile that, James noted, was not as bright as the one she had given Mattingly. “Won’t you join us? I can ring for fresh tea. I am afraid that the pot on the sideboard is stewed by now.”
    “Thank you, but it is not necessary. Fifteen years at sea teaches you to eat and drink anything. Stewed tea will be fine for me.”
    Meg looked at him doubtfully. There was a note in his voice she couldn’t quite identify. He sounded strained, as if he were trying to be polite without meaning it.
    Had he heard her announcement? Meg could feel hot color flood her face, and knew that she looked guilty. “How long have you been here, Captain?” she asked, her voice sharp.
    He looked puzzled, no doubt wondering where such a question came from. “Two days, Lady Margaret.”
    She tried again. “I mean—here—this morning. How long—?”
    Captain Sheridan’s blue eyes blazed into hers. “Not long. I do not lurk outside of doors eavesdropping, if that is what you are asking.” His words dropped into the silence like stones.
    “No, no, please. You