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Nicholas has awakened, but that seems to only make Althia even more uncomfortable.
The sun peeked through the curtains in Althia's room and she sleepily pulled the blankets over her head. She did not want to get out of bed, but she could no longer sleep. She pulled the blankets off, got up and splashed her face with water. Althia walked to the bureau and decided on the green short sleeved dress with the small flower print. She then sat at her dressing table and mirror, pulling her hair up and into a bun. Before heading downstairs, she glanced out her window and admired the sight of the land renewed by the previous night's rain. Everything seemed to glow under the Plymouth sun with renewed beauty and radiance.
Althia entered the breakfast nook and was surprised to discover that none of the usual trappings were on the table--no teapot or cups, milk or silverware. Althia considered walking back out of the room and re-entering just to see if her eyes were playing tricks on her. She did close her eyes and reopen them, but the same view greeted her.
"Jane? Jane, are you there? Have you fallen ill?" Althia called out, but the only response she heard was laughter coming from the guest bedroom. Intrigued, she walked out of the nook and down to the Captain's room.
"...so, not only was he not wearing his eye patch, he wasn't wearing any trousers either!" Althia heard Nicholas saying as he and Jane broke into peals of laughter.
"Oh, Captain...Metcalf." Jane tried to regain her composure between laughing and gasping for air. "You're...you're terrible." Althia couldn't remember the last time she had heard Jane laugh, much less uncontrollably.
"Thank you, my dear lady, you are too kind," Nicholas mocked his appreciation. "Now, let's take a look at this delicious breakfast you have brought."
"Might I perhaps join you? My breakfast seems to have disappeared," Althia interjected as she entered the room. Both occupants turned quickly at the sound of her voice. Nicholas still lay on the bed, propped up by the pillows while balancing a tray of food on his lap, and Jane sat in the chair next to him. Even Randolph, who was lying near the fire, looked up. Jane immediately jumped up facing Althia and lowered her head.
"A thousand apologies, miss. I got carried away and lost track of time. I was just bringing the Captain his breakfast and he got to telling me a story and I..."
"No need to apologize, Jane," interrupted Althia. "I am not angry. Would you please gather my breakfast and bring it in here?"
"Yes, miss, right away." Jane scurried out of the room. Althia took her spot in the chair. Randolph walked over and rested his face on the arm of the chair, hoping for attention from his mistress.
"Good morning, Captain Metcalf," Althia greeted, then turned her attention to Randolph. She massaged Randolph's ears and then planted a kiss on top of his head. Happily he crumpled down next to the chair.
"And a pleasant morning it is, Lady Shevington. I apologize if I have disrupted your routine." Nicholas' heart pounded wildly in his chest, but he tried to convince himself that it was only her unexpected entrance--and not her--that caused it.
"Not at all, Captain. A little surprise now and then can be refreshing." She raised her head and looked at him. Someone, either he or Humphrey, had washed his hair and it was still a bit wet on the ends. He wore a clean shirt and a bemused, almost childlike expression on his face. Almost as if he knew something and she didn't. The look unsettled her.
"I trust you slept well last night?" he asked as he placed the napkin across his chest.
"Yes indeed, thank you. The sound of rain is a lullaby from which I am powerless to resist."
"I feel the same way about the ocean. If I am ever restless on land, I make my way out on a ship and the waves rock me to sleep every time."
"Are you on land much, Captain Metcalf?"
"I am afraid not. Being an officer does afford me some holidays from the ship, but I believe I visit the ocean more than my family."
Jane reappeared with a tray for Althia consisting of toast and jam, ham and eggs, and tea. She set the tray down on the table and filled Althia's cup.
"Thank you, Jane, that will be all."
"Yes, miss." Jane placed the teapot back on the tray and quietly exited the room.
"You are fortunate to have such capable help, Lady Shevington," Nicholas complimented as he waited for Althia to begin eating.
"Yes, I am indeed. They are more like family than servants and for that I am most fortunate." Althia placed her napkin on her lap and poured some milk into her tea. She then picked up her silverware and began to eat.
Famished, Nicholas practically dove into his food. Althia shot him a quizzical look, which Nicholas caught. He shrugged slightly as he chewed and mentally kicked himself for being so barbaric in front of her. He commanded himself to eat slower.
"Speaking of family," Althia smiled slightly to herself as she looked down at her plate. "Where, may I ask, is your family located?" She looked up at him and he met her gaze.
Nicholas contemplated lying to her. It would be so easy not to mention Catherine or the baby. But, his conscience argued, lying is what got you into this mess. Best you not complicate matters with even more lies. Dejectedly, he looked down at his plate as his stomach turned with anger. "Gloucester. I was born and raised there and my wife and a child live there now with my sister."
"May I inquire as to how old your child is?" Althia did not know if it was the meal or the conversation that was turning her stomach, but she had little desire to eat.
Nicholas paused, a scowl forming across his face. "I believe she is eight months. I actually have not had the pleasure of meeting her yet. I received my orders and left Gloucester when my wife was in her sixth month and I have not been back since. I received a letter from my sister announcing the child's birth and I believe that was eight months ago." He took a drink of juice.
Althia followed suit with her cup of tea. "What is your daughter's name?"
"The girl's name is Sarah. She was named after her godmother, my wife Catherine's aunt." The words burned on his tongue as he said them and he took another gulp of juice in hopes of removing their taste from his mouth.
"Sarah is a lovely name," Althia remarked quietly as she dabbed her mouth with her napkin.
"I must say, though, Althia is a most unusual name. However did you acquire it?" Nicholas desperately needed to change the subject.
Althia looked up with a start. "I was named after my grandmother. It is a traditional family name." She couldn't remember telling the Captain her name and she wondered how he knew it.
"I hope you will not think me too forward, but Humphrey mentioned your given name to me last evening. What does it mean?" One little lie wouldn't hurt.
"I believe it traditionally means 'healer,'" she replied and finished drinking her tea to keep from having to answer any more questions. Her eyes darted everywhere but to his face. That strong, beautiful face. And better stay away from those eyes, she told herself. Those deep, inviting eyes. Thinking about them wasn't helping either. The man just admitted he was married; best get those eyes and that face out of your mind for good, her logical side demanded.
At that moment, Jane peaked in the room from the hallway. "Will you be needing anything else, miss? Captain?"
"Jane, my dear lady, I have not had a meal that good since last I ate at my mother's table. You are a most exquisite cook. Thank you for allowing me to partake in your meal."
Jane giggled slightly. "Oh my, Captain Metcalf, you are too kind." She blushed slightly as she gathered the dishes and trays.
"On the contrary, Jane, your cooking is too splendid for my meager vocabulary. I can not think of enough praises." He looked at her as she was gathering his dishes and gave her a full smile. Althia could see how someone--at least a female someone--could be so quickly enticed by the charming Captain Metcalf. She would certainly not be one of them.
"Are you not feeling well today, miss? You've hardly touched your food."
"I'm just not very hungry today, Jane. Thank you, though."
"Of course, miss." Jane collected the rest of the things and took them back into the kitchen. Althia looked out of the window as Nicholas studied her.
"How is the view?" he asked, trying to draw her attention back to him.
"Oh, it is a lovely day. Perhaps when you have healed more, you will be able to go out and see it for yourself."
"I should look forward to it...and to the pleasure of having such a beautiful guide."
Oh no you don't, Althia thought. You're not going to get me with those slimy, worn-out compliments. Althia feigned a laugh.
Blast, Nicholas thought. I should have known better. Typical tactics were never going to succeed against the "Iceberg Princess." He was going to have to try a different route.
"Are you able to see the Eddystone Lighthouse from here?" he asked, attempting to reel her back.
"From this room, no. But from the other side of the house, you can see it. Considering it is built completely on a rock and not on the shore, it is a majestic structure." Althia turned her attention back to him.
"You are aware that it didn't always look the way it does today, aren't you?" Nicholas hoped to capture her attention with a story. The men on the ship claimed that he was the best storyteller in the Royal Navy, but he prayed only that he was good enough to capture her interest.
"I believe there was a fire. My grandfather took possession of this house and land just as the tower was being rebuilt."
"Ah, you are correct Lady Shevington. There was a fire indeed. A fire that started at the very top of the tower in December of 1755, while the watchman, Henry Hall, and his assistant slept. They awoke to the smoke and sound of the fire and raced up the stairs carrying buckets of water trying to stop its spread. A feat amazingly enough, when you consider that Henry Hall himself was four and ninety years old." Nicholas paused to take a drink of juice.
Althia unconsciously shifted closer to him, toward the edge of the chair, gripping the arms in much the same manner she had as a child. Nicholas could see the fascination and wonderment in her eyes and facial expression, which spurred him on. Catherine never acted interested in his stories, always wishing instead to wallow and complain about what she didn't have, couldn't do, or how lonely she was when he was at sea and why didn't he put in for a job closer to home. Having this beautiful creature look upon him with such rapt attention caused his heartbeat to quicken and he tried to slow it, and the pace of his words, down.
"Well, at some point during their valiant efforts, old Henry Hall looked up to see how the fire was spreading. He looked up with his mouth open, much in this manner," Nicholas demonstrated, "and just as he did, molten iron from the roof poured down right into his mouth."
Althia gasped, partly in horror and partly in disgust.
"Indeed! It surprised old Henry Hall as well. The tower continued to burn and the fire forced the men out and onto the edge of the rock. People along the shore saw the fire and went out in their boats to try and rescue the men, but the waves were much too rough. So the rescuers had to toss ropes out to the men and pull them to the boats and to safety. The fire raged for five days because no one was able to get near it." Nicholas paused for dramatic effect.
"And the keeper of the lighthouse? What of him?" Althia could hardly contain her enthusiasm.
"Ah, old Henry Hall," Nicholas smiled and winked at her. "Badly burned from the fire and the molten iron, miraculously enough he lived for twelve days after being rescued from the burning lighthouse. The doctor found a lead ball in his stomach weighing seven ounces after Henry died--the evidence of which is still kept here in Plymouth for all to see. And the lighthouse was rebuilt into the 'magnificent structure' you see today."
"And that is a true story?"
"I know how to tell no other," Nicholas replied, enjoying the company and the attention. He knew now that this was the way to melt the "Iceberg Princess." Even now, her demeanor had changed to one of--he searched to find the right description--almost as a child sitting there beside him. No one seeing her now would be frightened or intimidated by her sparkling eyes and inquisitive look. Least of all him.
Althia seemed to be shaken back to consciousness. Her face and air changed back to defensive and guarded. "Thank you, Captain Metcalf, for that informative tale." She rose, unsure of what she should do now, but continuing to be in the room alone with this man wasn't it. "Are you in need of anything?"
"I would enjoy something to read in order to occupy my time here. Would you happen to have anything a bit light? I do not think my body or mind could take anything weighty at the moment."
"Something light?" Althia strolled over to the bookshelf and scanned the spines. "Oh, here is something that might meet your approval." She plucked the chosen book from the shelf, walked back and handed it to him.
"Wordsworth, hey? At least the book is light. I doubt the words are such." He looked directly at her as he retrieved the book from her grasp.
"Have you read much Wordsworth?" Althia was surprised yet again this morning.
"Not much, but he seems like a delightful old chap, wouldn't you agree?" he asked mockingly.
"I think he speaks from the heart and from life, displaying both sorrow and joy."
"Sorrow and joy, indeed. At first, you believe that the words will be lighthearted and jovial and then, like a dagger--" Nicholas dramatically demonstrated his words. "He stabs you in the heart and allows you to lie there and bleed to death." He finished by lying back on his pillows, his arms hanging down at his side and eyes closed. Althia just stood there with her arms crossed looking at him slightly impatiently. Nicholas opened one eye and looked at her.
"I could get you something else to read if you prefer," she retorted.
"Oh, no, please, don't bother," Nicholas opened both eyes, "this will do fine, thank you." He tried to sit up, but found it difficult and painful.
Althia noticed his predicament and moved over toward him. "May I be of some assistance?"
"I do hate to trouble you more, but I am having a bit of a time trying to sit up in order to enjoy my reading material." Nicholas placed the book on the table and stretched out his arms to her. She reached toward him and he grabbed onto her elbows. Althia pulled back as he attempted to sit up. The pain was so intense that Nicholas had to turn his head and yell. It startled Althia, but she did not lose her balance. Finally, he was in a semi-upright position and Althia went behind him and straightened his pillows. Nicholas put his hands on the bed and pushed himself back slightly. Slowly, he leaned back into the newly stacked pillows and heaved a sigh of relief.
"Thank you again for your assistance. I would enjoy the pleasure of discussing my observations on this volume of Mr. Wordsworth's work with you later in the day if you would be so inclined?"
Althia took a few steps back toward the door. "I think I would enjoy the discourse very much. Do you think you will be finished by dinner?"
"I think I will be far enough along to form an opinion or two," he teased, smiling at her and winking. He then turned his attention to his book and opened it to the first page, seeming to forget that she was in the room as he concentrated on the page in front of him.
"Very well then." Althia was embarrassed and a bit incensed. She paused, but he did not look up or even acknowledge that she was still in the room. "Enjoy your reading, Captain Metcalf," she stated, a bit louder.
"Hmm, what?" Nicholas glanced up at her and then back at his book. "Oh yes, thank you, Lady Shevington," he mumbled, attempting to hide the smug smile from his face.
"Good day, Captain Metcalf," she practically spat as she turned on her heel and marched out of the room. That infuriating man! Well, if a discourse is what he wanted, a discourse he would get! Althia angrily marched into the library and went immediately to a second copy of the same book. She promptly sat down in a huff and began to read, fuming over the way he so easily dismissed her and how upset she was by it.
Meanwhile, Nicholas could hardly contain his laughter. He pulled the covers up to his mouth in order to try and stifle it. Her reaction was just what he was expecting and he knew that she was probably somewhere in the house right now planning her discourse. He laid the book against his chest and looked up at the ceiling. Why did she have to be so enchanting? When she helped him sit up, she was so close Nicholas would have taken her into his arms and kissed her then and there if he had not been in so much pain. She seemed so unaware of how beautiful she was and he wanted nothing more than to show her and prove it to her every day for the rest of his life. And he would--his wife and that child be damned. He would have Althia for his own...somehow, someway. Nicholas turned his attention back to his book, but his thoughts were never far from her.
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