Alexander laughed. “Eight brothers? Woe betide anyone who tries to take liberties with you; they would have sixteen fists to fight off!”
“If I were the beauty of the season, that might be so, but since I’m a confirmed wallflower, I think the gentlemen of our social circle are safe,” Amelia countered. She did not mind his teasing; she could take what he said in the spirit in which it was offered.
“The fact that you have eight brothers lurking in the background may have put off one or two gentlemen. Are all your brothers in London?”
“No, the eldest two are settled near home, both farming the land. With the next two, one is in the Navy and one is studying to take Orders; we hope he will find a living close to home. Of my younger brothers, the two youngest are still at school; then I have one who is an apprentice printer and one who is an apprentice in a solicitor’s office. We are very proud of them all.” Amelia’s tone was a little defensive; she was fully aware of what the
ton
thought of anyone who earned a living outside the military or clergy. They were the only professions not met with derision.
Alexander had picked up her tone. He had been surprised at her answer; her being connected to Sir Jeremy Basingstoke, he had assumed she came from a higher ranking family than it appeared she did. “Your parents must be very pleased with all their family,” he said. “What vessel is your brother serving on?”
Amelia smiled; it was obvious the Captain would be most interested in the brother who was serving in the Navy. “He’s serving on board the HMS Agamemnon,” she replied.
“A ship that was Nelson’s favourite,” Alexander said. “Although in my opinion it hasn’t been the best of ships.”
“Why?” Amelia was alarmed for her brother.
“Oh nothing that should worry you,” Alexander reassured her. “She ran aground in Copenhagen and has always seemed to need some sort of repair. She probably would have been scrapped if we hadn’t gone back to war.”
“And constantly needing repair is supposed to calm my worry?” Amelia asked.
Alexander chuckled. “We look after our ships; they are as precious as the crew, in many cases more so. Did he serve at Trafalgar?”
“He did,” Amelia said quietly. “His letters were jolly, but he couldn’t hide some of the horror he’d seen.”
“No battle is easy for anyone, let alone a young boy,” Alexander acknowledged. “What rank is he?”
“Able Seaman at the moment, but he has hopes of becoming a Petty Officer soon,” Amelia said proudly.
“If he works hard he will achieve that rank and more,” Alexander said. “The Navy is the one place where hard work is rewarded. I hope he does well; it’s a fine career to have. How long have you been with your uncle?” Alexander needed to change the subject. A lump appeared in his chest every time he was reminded of what he had lost. He felt as if he had been born to be in the navy, and it never failed to leave him struggling for breath when he realised that life had disappeared forever.
“This will be my third season. I’m glad to say it will be my last,” Amelia responded with feeling.
“Really?” Alexander did not know whether or not he was surprised she was glad to be returning home or that they had not met during her first season. Admittedly, he had been missing for most of the last season.
“Yes, I’ll soon be three and twenty, time to return home and establish my life there. Staying with my uncle has been a diversion but cannot continue indefinitely,” Amelia tried to sound grateful about staying with her uncle and his family, but the reality was that she would be glad to leave London.
She was two and twenty and yet she had attended only two seasons. The reality of her family’s position hit home to Alexander and something else as well. He felt himself colour and was hopeful she would not notice it. He would not have met her during her previous seasons because she would have belonged to the group of people he would have considered beneath his notice. He would not have been rude to anyone, oh no, not the great Captain Worthington, but he would not have sought out any lady’s hand in that group either. He felt shame that he was now willing, no desperate, for her company when, if he still had sight, he would not have sought her out at all.
“I am genuinely sorry our paths did not cross sooner,” Alexander said quietly. He meant the words, although he was still battling with feelings of shame at the reflection of his own character. He recalled the words she had first used to describe him.
“Oh, you had your friends; I had benches to polish. We were both busy,” Amelia said flippantly, but she had noticed his flush. They were both intelligent and knew full well why their paths had not crossed, and it made her heart sink a little. The
ton
were never willing to step outside their closed group unless the money of the lower classes was needed, of course. She was realistic. It offered no flattery to her that he wanted to be in her company; her dog was the bigger attraction.
Samson had behaved impeccably throughout the walk. Amelia had taken them on a circular route in order to eventually return to the valet. She was thankful when she saw his form on the bench. Needing to be prepared for the catastrophe that could happen if Samson misbehaved had kept her on edge, but being reminded of her true position in society had come as an unwelcome jolt to her.
“We are returning to your valet,” Amelia informed him. “We have reached the end of our excursion.”
Alexander could have cursed that they were approaching Peterson. He wanted to say more, to rectify something that had gone wrong during their walk, but now he could not. Amelia stopped and, when Peterson stood and offered his arm to his master, Amelia called Samson to her. The dog must have sensed something amiss in the mood between the couple, as he meekly left Alexander and sat before Amelia.
“Miss Basingstoke, I cannot express how much the walk and the sense of freedom this morning has meant,” Alexander said with feeling. He did not want to end their contact, but he knew the atmosphere that now existed between them was as a result of them both realising why they had never before been introduced. The reality of social interaction in London had prevented it and, in many respects, Alexander’s own arrogant attitude.
“You’re welcome,” Amelia responded. “Samson certainly seemed to enjoy it.”
“Am I asking too much for us to walk again?” Alexander asked. He did not want it to be the only time he experienced freedom, but it was more than that; he wanted a chance for them to return to easy terms. Her good opinion of him was suddenly very important to him.
Amelia hesitated; she, of course, wanted to spend time in Alexander’s company; she had been aware of him since the first time she had seen him in a ballroom, during that first season. The problem was that, the more she saw of him and spoke to him, the more difficult it would be to forget him when it was time to return home. And forgetting him would be her only option when she returned to her family.
“I’m not sure—,” she started, but was interrupted.
“Please,” Alexander said quietly.
He might no longer meet the eyes of the person he was communicating with, but his expression was no less beseeching for the lack of the usual interaction. “I shall be waiting here at the same time tomorrow,” Amelia said, dismissing her sensible side. His request was heartfelt; she could not refuse him.
Chapter 5
A breath of relief whooshed out of Alexander when he heard the gentle ‘woof’ of Samson. He had not been sure Miss Basingstoke would attend even though she had given her agreement. During the previous evening when he had reflected on their conversation, he acknowledged that he had pressured her into meeting. All night he had been worried that she would have second thoughts, and he would have no further contact with her. He had convinced himself it was the freedom of being with Samson he was desperate for; thoughts of anything else would only cause more fear and doubt, and he could not face that just yet.
“Good morning, Miss Basingstoke, Samson,” Alexander said, sounding more confident than he was. He felt calmer when Samson automatically took his place at his side, and he was able to scratch the neck of the furry animal. He felt Samson’s tail flicking at his legs as it swished from side to side, and he could picture the dog’s tongue lolling from the side of his mouth.
“Good morning,” Amelia responded. She was smiling but once again was a little nervous.
“Can we take a different route from the one we took yesterday?” Alexander asked, keen to start their walk. “If you could describe the paths we are walking along, I might recognise where we are.”
“Of course,” Amelia agreed easily. She started to walk as she had done previously, but this time she described what she saw. What trees were around them, the paths they followed and which direction they were heading along with any of the seating areas or ornamental statues they passed. “This feels a little strange,” Amelia admitted as she walked.
“Walking with me?” Alexander asked.
“No!” Amelia smiled. “Describing objects and places in the parkland I think you might recognise. I need to think of words that will describe it without using the flowery language one would be expected to use when talking about an object of art or a painting. Explaining the reality rather than concentrating on the picturesque.”
“You are doing very well. I can’t describe how frustrating it is to hear a different sound and have no clue what it relates to.”
“It must make you feel very vulnerable,” Amelia said quietly.
“It does, but I’m trying to accustom myself to the sense of being in the dark in more ways than one.” The wry smile that followed Alexander’s words pulled at Amelia’s heart. She did not feel sorry for him but wanted to make things better.
Alexander listened to everything being said and, when he was sure of his location, he interrupted the flow of commentary. “We must be just around the corner from the huge copper beech tree,” he said, almost sure he knew where he was.
“That’s right,” Amelia said.
“There’s a small opening with seating nearby, isn’t there?” Alexander asked.
“Yes.”
“Would you mind if we sat for a moment?” Alexander asked. With Amelia’s agreement, he asked her to stop. “I’m going to try something with Samson.”
“Oh?” Amelia was immediately a little wary. “Don’t forget Samson has never been so good for so long, so testing him may not turn out well,” she said cautiously.
“Don’t worry, it’s only an idea of mine; it doesn’t matter if it fails. It was only when I was thinking about our walk yesterday that I realised something,” Alexander explained, keen to share his idea with her. “You never gave Samson an instruction as to whether we were turning left or right along any of the paths we took.”
“No, I didn’t, but he could see my movements; I was walking alongside you,” Amelia said, not sure where the conversation was going.
“Yes, but it was only as I returned to my home with Peterson that I realised something. Samson had been putting gentle pressure on my leg. Unbeknown to me, he was guiding my steps in the right direction. It was only when he was no longer next to me I realised what he’d done,” Alexander said excitedly. It was true; he had missed the pressure when it was no longer there. He was not sure whether it was something Samson had done unconsciously or consciously. One thing he was certain of was that he felt more confident with the dog at his side.
“I think it might have been just a coincidence,” Amelia said doubtfully. She had always been Samson’s biggest defender, but even she realised the dog had his limitations.
“Please humour me in this,” Alexander requested. “If you will lead the way, I’ll keep repeating ‘seat’ to him. I’m not expecting it to work today, but I hope that, if we try it every day, he may learn the command,” Alexander explained.
Amelia turned to walk towards the seat, and Samson followed her lead. Alexander was all the time saying “Seat, Samson. Seat, Samson.” They reached the bench, and Alexander made a huge fuss of Samson, even bringing a treat for him out of his pocket.
“That’s the perfect way to reward him; he will love you forever if you feed him treats every day,” Amelia laughed as Samson wolfed down the treat in one bite and then pushed his nose into Alexander’s hand, just to make sure he had eaten everything on offer.
“He deserves it; I really cannot explain how good it is not to have to hold onto someone all the time. I know you are there in case something goes wrong, but I feel confident with him. It doesn’t feel as if he’ll run away,” Alexander tried to explain.
“It must have been hard to have to learn to accept help. I can’t imagine it came naturally to you,” Amelia said, being bolder than she should have been.
Alexander laughed slightly, “My brother thankfully took me to task when I was punishing everyone who tried to help.”
“He’s a brave man,” Amelia said. “I’ve seen your glowers when people got in the way.” It was true that she thought him the most handsome man she had ever seen, but she was under no illusion of his character; she had seen him send people scuttling away with one of his glares.
Alexander was reminded of what she had said on his first meeting with her. “You must have had a low opinion of my behaviour in the past.”
Amelia flushed; she could not be honest with him. What would she say? That I thought you the most attractive man in any ballroom I visited? That despite your faults you made my heart beat a little faster every time I saw you? No, she might talk to him in a way she would not consider with anyone else, but in this she could not be so forward. Even now as he sat on the bench, he was a fine figure of a man; he sat upright, slightly leaning forwards, his hands on each of his knees as if ready to spring into action at any time. “I sometimes speak before I think; in fact, I often do it. Ignore what I said when we first met; I was being flippant, and it was very rude of me.”
“Hmm, I think you were being truthful. My brother would say as much if asked,” Alexander admitted. “I’d never thought of myself the way you or Anthony described me, but I’ve had to face up to a lot these past months. Reflecting on my behaviour has not been a pleasant experience, but necessary if I was to deal with the sight loss and start living again.”
“I think you’ve had enough to deal with without having to change your personality as well,” Amelia defended him.
“Would it make sense if I said I’m glad the change took place?” Alexander asked. “Oh, don’t get me wrong; I wasn’t at the start, and I think I still struggle more times than I handle what I face. I can’t shake off the thought, though, that if I’d died and all I left in the minds of people who did not know me well was that I was stiff lipped, glowering and reserved, I’d feel saddened they had not seen my true character.”
“Will you ever let me forget those words?” Amelia said with embarrassment.
“Probably not,” Alexander said with a smile that lit up his face. Amelia caught her breath; he was handsome even when he did not smile, but when he smiled, his whole face brightened with amusement and, for the first time in her life, she felt breathless.
He held out his hand and, although Amelia hesitated, she placed her own in his. Alexander squeezed her gloved fingers; they felt small in his own large hand. It was the first physical contact they had shared, and it gave him an idea of her size. She was obviously slightly built, her hand small and slender. He felt bolder than he would have in different circumstances. He allowed his free hand to roam across her fingers and down to her wrist. He was pleased when he heard the slight intake of breath. It was the first positive response from a woman he had experienced in over a year, and it took a lot of strength for him to gather himself. The last thing he needed was to push her too far, insult her and be left alone on a bench in the middle of Green Park.
He took a deep breath and pulled himself together; he had never been one to take advantage of an innocent girl, and he certainly was not going to start now. “Miss Basingstoke, please be assured that I’m not ignorant of the debt I owe you.”
Amelia flushed a deep red, and her heart raced; his grip felt strong and sure, but when he used his other hand to examine her clasped one, she needed all her willpower to prevent herself from leaning into him. She had never been a weak and feeble miss, but his touch almost turned her into one.
“There’s no need to thank me; I’m happy to be here,” she said, her voice a little softer than usual. It was true; she was happy to be with him. She was also foolish and silly, she silently cursed to herself, shaking her idiotic thoughts away.
Alexander squeezed her hand before releasing it. “You shouldn’t dismiss what you’ve done for me. I wish there was something I could do for you in return.”
“You could find a ship that could spirit my aunt and cousin away perhaps?” Amelia said flippantly.
“Are they so bad?” Alexander asked. Their reputation had been enough to keep him at such a distance that he could not claim a detailed knowledge of them or their ways.
“They have been very good in giving me a home these past few seasons, it’s just—I miss the country and my family,” Amelia responded. It was not polite to seem ungrateful about her relations to someone who was almost a stranger.
“Yes, I can understand that,” Alexander responded, not pushing her for further information. It would not have been polite to do so, although it was clear she was unhappy with her relatives. He had felt her body stiffen as it had on the first night he had met her just before her aunt had made her presence felt. “It must be a huge change from your home life.”
“It is; there is a lot more freedom in the country while every move is watched and commented upon in town. I’m glad I’m not important enough to attract much attention, but even so I have to be careful. It’s stifling!” Amelia said with feeling. The attention her aunt and cousin attracted was far too much for her liking. Everyone seemed to watch their every move; it was all to prevent Serena getting her way and compromising some poor gentleman, of course, but it did not make life comfortable for those around them. Amelia pushed thoughts of her relatives aside. “You must miss the sea.” Her words were a statement rather than a question. She knew enough of her companion to know he must be suffering in ways that exceeded the physical.
“I do,” Alexander said quietly. No one had ever mentioned the sea to him; none had seemed to understand its importance in his life. “Every day I long to visit the ocean again, but I’m not sure I ever will.”
“I know you wouldn’t be able to see it,” Amelia started, correctly interpreting Alexander’s reluctance. “But you would be able to hear it and smell it. Although I am far away from the sea now, I can never forget the sound of the waves on the pebbles, or the smell that is so different from anything else. I’m fascinated with the crying of seagulls and the way they circle the fishing boats coming into the harbour.”
“I never sleep very well on land. I seem to need to hear the sound of the waves to have a deep, restful night. I’ve always said the waves rock me to sleep, but it’s more than that,” Alexander said. He had turned, leaning back on the seat, stretching his legs out in front of him. An outsider would think he was totally relaxed because of his posture, but Amelia saw the frown and knew he was hurting deep inside. His injury had taken away more than his sight.
“I can’t imagine how you have the strength to face each day; you are braver than people realise,” Amelia said gently.
Alexander harrumphed. “My brother would disagree; he had to take me to task before I started behaving like a gentleman instead of the beast I’d turned into.”
“Well, that’s all in the past now,” Amelia said, wanting to carry on the conversation but rousing herself; they had sat still too long. It was not appropriate for them to remain seated without a chaperone. She might not mind anyone seeing her walking with Samson unchaperoned, but being caught on a bench with a gentleman would put them both in line for conjecture on their relationship. “Come, let’s see if Samson will return you to the seat if we walk a little away.”
Alexander stood and immediately Samson moved to his usual position on the left side of him. “Right boy, lead on,” Alexander said. The dog seemed to understand and walked forward with Alexander. Amelia followed but was holding back a little; she was interested to notice that the dog did not seem to be waiting for her direction.
When they had walked a distance from the bench they had just vacated, Alexander stopped and turned slightly, facing the way they had just walked. Samson remained by his side.
Alexander scratched the dog’s neck. “Come on, boy; I know you can do it,” he whispered. Standing straight, he said in a louder voice, “Samson, seat. Samson, seat.”
The dog started to move forward with Alexander saying the same words over and over again. The journey was slow; Alexander was hesitant, and Samson seemed to sense the fear and nerves Alexander was facing, so he walked slower than he normally did.