Miss Sally's Unsuitable Soldier Read online

  Well, in a pirate kind of way.

  Still, for Minerva, it was perfect. She’d always been called to the open seas. She’d taken after their mother in that sense.

  “You’ll look after Hattie for me, won’t you?” Minerva asked as she squeezed Sally’s shoulders.

  Sally nodded. “Of course I will.”

  In that way, Minerva was nothing at all like their mother. While the rest of the world believed their father’s stories that their mother had died at sea, Sally and her sisters had always known the truth.

  She’d left them. Abandoned them for a more exciting life than five little girls could provide. All for the best though. Good riddance, as far as Sally was concerned. She had no use for anyone who had no use for her. Her father and sisters had provided all the love and guidance any young lady could ask for.

  “And Rebecca, too,” Minerva added. Her brows drew together. “I’m happy for her that she’ll be able to enjoy herself at the manor, but…” She bit her lip and trailed off.

  Sally tugged her back in for another quick, tight hug. “I’ll make sure she stays out of trouble.”

  Minerva nodded.

  It wasn’t that Rebecca was a troublemaker. Out of all of them, she was possibly the most dutiful and least likely to cause mischief. But she was definitely the most frivolous, the most prone to fall hard and fast for any gentleman who whispered sweet nothings, and entirely too unaware of her own appeal.

  She flirted without even knowing she was flirting. It was her nature to be effervescent and charming. But at the fort and in the town of Billingham she was safe. Everyone knew who she was and, more importantly, who her father was. No officer in his right mind would try and take liberties with a daughter of their revered captain.

  But at Hampton Manor where everyone outranked a naval captain in status, wealth, and power…?

  Well, they were entering into new territory. She had a sudden flash of a handsome face and a wickedly flirtatious smile.

  New territory, indeed.

  Perhaps Rebecca would be in her element.

  Yes, undoubtedly she would. It was Sally who would not fit in. Unless she was in the sick room, of course, which was where she planned to stay.

  She’d visited with Dr. Robert shortly after the earl’s unexpected visit and he’d confirmed, more or less, what the earl had already told them.

  The physician, whom she’d known and revered since childhood, assured her that the most she would be tasked with was doling out the earl’s medicine and keeping an eye on his health. What the elderly gentleman needed her there for that was not clear, but the doctor suggested that it was for his peace of mind more than anything.

  All that truly mattered was...she had to go. There was no refusing such a request, not even if she could have come up with an excuse in time.

  It was with a heavy heart that Sally watched her sister’s ship set sail. She and her sisters and their father standing off on his own, watched as the large ship sailed off and disappeared into the horizon.

  Abigail walked away first, heading quietly toward town. No doubt she’d be looking for her little army of waifs, or perhaps she was going to coddle Marcus’s friend Mr. Calhoun some more. The injury was as good as healed so Sally was no longer needed, but she suspected Abigail had her own reasons for seeking him out.

  Rebecca and Hattie followed not long after. Even Rebecca was unusually quiet and glum as the two girls headed back up the shore toward home.

  When it was just Sally and her father, he moved toward her and stood at her side. They stood there in silence until the sun started to sink in the sky. Only then did he turn to her with a sigh. “It won’t be the same without her, will it?”

  Sally shook her head. She’d been thinking the same. Not surprising. She and her father were often of the same mind. His little soldier. He’d called her that as a child and it had stuck. A tomboy by nature, she’d always preferred her father’s pastimes than the ones she was supposed to be doing.

  When it came to practicing embroidery or pugilism...well, the needle did not stand a chance.

  Thanks to all this time spent together, she took one look at his weathered features and tensed. “What is it, Father?”

  He looked to her but stayed silent. He knew better than to try and tell her it was nothing. Something was bothering him. What exactly was weighing on him remained to be seen. And why. And if there was anything she could do about it.

  He turned back to the sea with a sigh. “It was something Roger said back in the caves.” He gave his head a shake. “It’s been vexing me.”

  Ah, so that was it. She ought to have guessed. Roger had been Minerva’s suitor—or, he would have been if he had not turned out to be a smuggling knave. And, of course, if Minerva hadn’t gone and fallen in love with a pirate.

  But that was neither here nor there. What mattered was that her father had gone silent once more. When it came to their father, no one knew better than Sally that it was useless to push.

  Sally was like him like that, he always liked to remind her. Resolute, was the word he used for it.

  Minerva called it stubborn.

  When at last he turned back to her, his concern was far less mysterious. “You will look after Rebecca at the manor, won’t you?”

  She smiled. “Of course, Father.”

  “Rebecca is a darling girl but she tends to have her head in the clouds.” He frowned. “I worry that she’ll get...ideas.”

  Sally laughed softly. “Rebecca has always had ideas.”

  His huff of answering amusement was rueful. “This is true. But her fancies could not get her into trouble here at the old fort.”

  “No, I suppose not.” Even surrounded as they were by young, eligible officers, the Jones girls had remained safe from any undue overtures or, as her father put it...ideas. No officer would dare take liberties with their commanding officer’s daughters, and while the officers were young and handsome, they were not out of bounds, as the young lords at the manor would be.

  If Rebecca’s romantic notions got away from her at the manor, she could very well end up with a broken heart, at the very least. She dared not even think of what would happen if her reputation were tainted.

  “I’ll watch out for her, Father,” Sally promised. It seemed she’d made that promise to every one of her sisters. Even Hattie, the youngest in age, had worried about Rebecca in such a situation as they were headed.

  No one wanted to see their sweet, impractical sister lose her head or her heart.

  But if there was one thing Sally could be counted on, it was to be practical.

  Always.

  “Father, while I am gone…” She pursed her lips as she struggled with what to say. Her chest seemed to tighten the further Minerva and her new husband sailed. Without Minerva acting as mother hen, they would all have to adjust. It was only now that Sally realized how much they’d relied on the eldest sister to look out for them all. Now it fell on their father...and her.

  Abigail was maternal and was the one they all ran to for a listening ear or a shoulder to cry on, but this past fortnight she’d been distracted by a pirate of her own. She hadn’t spoken of it to Sally and when the topic came up, she insisted that it was merely duty that had her spending every spare moment with the large brute with the mysterious background. But Sally wondered.

  Her father patted her arm gently. “I shall look after Abigail.” He shot her a sidelong knowing look. “And Hattie.”

  “Hattie should be easy enough to keep track of. Just seek out the quiet corners where she might be reading.” They both laughed. Hattie had her nose permanently in a book, which made her easy to mind. Her biggest rebellion was sneaking off to read a novel when she was supposed to be studying or doing her chores.

  Sally turned to her father again. If she stayed, would he speak to her of whatever it was that Roger had said to concern him so?

  Likely not.

  His lips twitched and she was certain he could feel her gaze. “I can
practically feel your pent-up energy, Sally, dear.” He nodded toward the wide open expanse behind them. The snow had not yet started to fall but the grass was brittle and dry...and inviting.

  She was already hitching up her skirts as her father chuckled. “Best to get your running in now. I can’t imagine you’ll have much chance at the great manor.”

  The thought made her chest tighten and her lungs drew in great gulps. How she’d survive weeks at a place where she could not run or swim or explore or tend a garden...the thought made her too frustrated for words.

  This frustration could only find one outlet.

  “I’ll meet you at home,” she called to her father, already moving as he waved her off.

  The thought of the weeks ahead had her blood pumping harder than ever and her legs worked as if she could outrun the dreadful fate to come.

  A manor. With lords and ladies. She snorted and she moved her arms, falling into a rhythm that cleared her mind as her skirts swooshed about her. It sounded like a nightmare.

  She drew fresh air into her lungs as her limbs warmed and her belly caught fire, the tension finally leaving her as she raced the wind toward her home.

  The thought of the estate and the weeks to come might feel like a prison, but this?

  She grinned as wind whipped her hair about her head.

  This was freedom.

  Chapter 3

  Did the Jones girls absolutely require Sebastian’s escort to the manor the following day? No. Definitely not. But he would escort them all the same.

  Sebastian took a winding path that led from the main thoroughfare in Billingham to the seaside house where the Jones family resided. The fort loomed in the distance, even more intimidating and hulking in the gray afternoon light than it had been the night of the ball.

  In the dark, the torches had given some hint of the massive size of the old stone frigate, but here and now it seemed to be a living breathing monster, hovering at the edge of the cliffs like it might dive back in at any moment and gobble up whatever stood in its path.

  Sebastian had informed his father that he would come to Billingham himself to ensure the girls’ safe arrival but it was likely a secret to no one that his trip to the seaside town was for his own sanity more than the girls’ safety.

  He’d been desperate to escape the prison the manor had become. The mundane conversations and idle afternoons not only bored him to tears, they gave him far too much time to think. To stew, even. What was his purpose at Hampton Manor? What was his future to be?

  Without military life to keep him occupied and give his days meaning, and with his status as the spare making his presence at his father’s home an afterthought, at best, he was left with too much time to dwell on these questions.

  The answers were often too depressing to ponder.

  The sight of a ship out on the horizon caught his eye and he kept his face turned toward the sea as he strolled.

  He was in no rush to reach the captain’s residence and the stroll was good for his constitution. Daily exercise was one of the things he missed most about military life.

  No. No, that wasn’t quite right.

  He paused and turned near the hilltop’s edge to take in the sight of the fort from this new angle.

  Truth be told, he’d had his daily physical regimen even at the manor. He’d gone riding and hunting every day. He’d taken long walks under the guise of checking the property’s fences and property lines. But leisurely rides and hunting with men who were in their cups was not the same as waking each day with a purpose.

  He crossed his arms with a sigh, stopping entirely now to face the onslaught of brisk, salty air as it whipped around him. He wasn’t sure how long he’d stood there, basking in the sight and sounds of the seaside before he finally turned and—

  Oof!

  He fell over.

  Nay. He was knocked over. Toppled by a whirling dervish in skirts and landing him flat on his back.

  “Oh! Oh my goodness, are you all right?” That low, melodic voice above him made him freeze. The weight of her was still on him and it took all his might to keep his hands at his sides when they wished to reach for her, to hold her still.

  For one heartbeat he thought about wrapping his arms around her in an embrace. But then she was sitting up, her backside resting on his stomach as she scrambled upright.

  “I am sorry, my lord.” Sally’s eyes were wide as she scrambled and fell onto the dirt beside him.

  Sebastian supposed this could go one of two ways. He could stand up, help her to her feet, brush himself off, and tell her to forget this awkward incident ever occurred. Or…

  He threw his hands over his chest with a groan, squinting up into the gray clouds. “Oooh,” he moaned.

  Her gasp was lovely. All feminine concern and startled wits.

  “Where does it hurt?” she asked. Her hands, meanwhile, were flying over his body, skimming over him in a decidedly clinical manner.

  Still. Rather lovely.

  He hid a smile with another wince and a groan as she hovered over him, her brows drawn together in concern. “Did you sprain something? Show me where it—”

  Her gaze moved up to his face and whatever she saw there, she stopped talking abruptly and sat back on her heels.

  He ceased his groaning and his rolling back and forth to grin up at her.

  “You were teasing.” Her tone was cold, her lips pressed together in a straight line.

  His smile was unapologetic. “I had you for a moment there.”

  She rolled her eyes as she pushed up to her feet. “You...you…” She closed her eyes and drew in a deep breath.

  He chuckled at the sight of this formidable, serious young lady at a loss for words. “I would give all the money in the world to know what you were about to say.”

  Her eyes snapped open.

  He leapt to his feet and leaned in toward her, loving the way her eyes glinted with anger and mischief. “Were you going to call me names?”

  Her lips pursed slightly and he suspected she was trying not to laugh. “Of course not, Lieutenant Colonel—”

  “Call me Sebastian,” he said. Again, he noted. “Please.”

  She blinked twice. “I don’t believe we are so well acquainted—”

  “But we will be,” he interjected. “After all, you’ll be staying in my home for the foreseeable future, dining at our table, being bored silly right alongside me.”

  Her lips twitched upward but she squelched a smile once again as she gestured toward the ground. “Was that what this was about? Are you so bored that you have to perform theatrics?”

  “Of course not,” he scoffed. “I just wanted to see the look of alarm on your face when you thought you broke me.”

  She chuckled, the sound low and light and utterly charming. “I did not think I’d broken you.”

  He clasped a hand to his chest and raised his voice by several octaves. “Oh no! Where are you hurt? What have I done?” He threw his hands up in a melodramatic gesture. “However can I ever make it up to you?”

  She arched one brow, her lips still curved up in amusement. “I don’t recall saying that last bit.”

  “Don’t you?” he teased. “How curious. I could have sworn you pledged your life to my future happiness.”

  She stared at him for a long moment before shocking the life out of him with a loud laugh that was so delightfully unschooled. So natural and vibrant. So filled with life.

  He wished he could wrap her and her laugh up in his arms and carry them off where his father couldn’t smother them.

  She looked around them at the wide expanse of land and the sea beyond. “What are you doing out here? And by yourself?”

  “I might ask you the same,” he said.

  Both brows hitched up and amusement flickered in the depths of her eyes. “I live here.”

  He turned to follow her pointed gaze and, sure enough, the seaside home he’d visited only weeks before was sitting there. Funny, he hadn’t realized
he’d walked quite so far. “Ah,” he said. “So you do.”

  Her pursed lips held an air of smugness that went beyond alluring. He would be in the wrong every day of his life if it meant she smirked at him so very sweetly.

  “Tell me, Miss Sally,” he said. “Do you always sprint along the cliff’s edge as though you are being chased by the hounds of hell?”

  Her smirk disappeared and he was sorry to see it go. She dipped her chin and nibbled on her bottom lip. “We don’t get many visitors.”

  He just barely swallowed a laugh before it escaped. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

  Her smile was slow and sweet as she shrugged. “Take it however you like.”

  From any other woman, it might have sounded flirtatious. From Miss Sally Jones it sounded like a challenge. He took in her pinkened cheeks, the straight brown hair that was falling down around her face.

  She caught the way he was looking at her and made a hasty attempt to put herself to rights. “My apologies, Lieuten—” She stopped short when he arched a brow. “Sebastian.”

  He grinned. He liked the way she said his name. Like it was a challenge. Again with the challenges. He had a feeling this was a young lady who let no one get away with anything.

  He could hardly wait to see her take his father in hand. Heaven knew someone ought to. The man had been a bear to be around ever since their mother died. Not even his saint of a brother enjoyed his brief stays at the manor.

  Sebastian half suspected this latest crisis his brother had been forced to run off and handle was entirely fictional. A ruse just to get out of another boring house party and away from his father’s never-ending and seemingly imaginary ailments.

  He could hardly blame his brother if that were the case. He would have run away too if he could have.

  Why hadn’t he thought to escape first? Now he was stuck at the house until his brother returned and—

  “I am sorry,” she said.

  He blinked. He’d forgotten why on earth she was apologizing. “For what?”

  “Erm…” She looked around guiltily. “For behaving improperly. And for, er…” Her voice was more stilted than he’d ever heard it. She sounded demure and...