The Officer's Temptation | A Regency Romance

Chapter Eighteen: The Harbour

The smell of the sea was thick on the breeze as sailors hustled down the docks, hauling casks and trunks and crates down the gangplank to the schooner flying English colors. Near the ship, a gull swooped, flapping its wings until its white feathers were lost against the clouds that dotted the sky. It was a fine day, the weather promising smooth seas. Marlowe hoped that the voyage would be calm as he approached the tall man in dark clothes who stood facing the harbour, back straight, hands stuffed into the pockets of his coat.

Nicholas turned. Under his dark brows, his gray eyes churned with emotion, but his expression was otherwise blank. "Thank you for meeting me," he said. His voice was careful, even.

"How could I not see you off?" Marlowe joined him facing the water, clasping his hands against the wood of a railing. It was so chipped and faded from the hot sun and salty air that a bit of brittle wood broke off under his hand. "How is she?" 

Nicholas did not turn to him, only watched the harbour. He had removed his hat to push away stray strands of his long hair and dark tendrils curled around his ears. "In truth, I cannot be sure." His eyes flicked to Marlowe's for a moment, sharp and quick as a saber. "I had the servants lock away the laudanum."

Marlowe took a steadying breath, the salt air filling his lungs. "Was that truly necessary?"

"She was not herself," Nicholas said. The sun glinted off the buttons of his coat, precise and orderly little things. "I do not know what she is truly capable of, and I could not risk it... But now, I think she is a bit recovered. Stronger. Despite what she may seem, she has always been fragile underneath that determined exterior."

"I know. That is... I guessed." Marlowe swallowed the lump that rose in his throat. "Nicholas, you must know that I never meant for things to be this way."

Nicholas scoffed. "You never meant for it to be this way? Of course you wouldn't have." His voice was hot and laced with bitterness, though he did not raise it. "It was only your nature running its course. And hers and mine, the lot of us powerless puppets against the brutal destruction of our instincts. I wish that things had been different, but this is where we find ourselves." He drummed his fingers tidily against the railing and frowned out at the waves. The planes of his face were harsh and stark against the afternoon light. "You made your choice, Hughes. You must learn to live with it as must I."

"Why didn't you kill me, then?" Marlowe's throat felt raw and scratched with emotion. He wished that he had something to drink, preferably something strong.

"I was furious," Nicholas said. His shoulders sagged and he looked older for a moment than his thirty-odd years. "But now I only want to return home. Start fresh."

"Do you believe you will be able to?"

Nicholas sighed and turned to face him. "To start again? I hardly know. I suspect that in time I will learn to forgive her. I knew her nature when I married her--the highs and the lows. I only did not suspect that the lows would be quite so devastating."

Silence hung between them for a moment, Marlowe not quite knowing what to say.  He heard the sailors laughing, someone barking orders in Italian from the dock, the call of the gulls.

"I'm taking her to Scotland," Nicholas finally said. "She has a sister near Aberdeen."

"I hope you are both able to find some peace there."

Nicholas leaned forward, pressing on his elbows against the railing. "There is something about Scotland that suits her. It is a wild country, and heartbreakingly beautiful." He smiled softly to himself, looking somewhere between wistful and forlorn. "Did I ever tell you that is where we met? I had gone on business and I met her at some laird's soirée. She absolutely lit up the room--charming, beautiful, clever! She could have danced with anyone that night, but she chose me... That must mean something, don't you think?" He closed his eyes, black lashes lying still against his hollow cheeks. "I want to return to those days."