Framed in the doorway stood William Ransome, his crisp indigo uniform showing his strong-but-slim build to perfection. His dark hair curled a bit over the high collar, and the skin around his eyes crinkled when he smiled. Her heart thudded traitorously.
Susan’s eyes sparkled when she looked from Julia to William. “Miss Julia Witherington, I believe you know Captain William Ransome.”
If being forced to spend time with William was Susan’s idea of an appropriate punishment for missing the card party last night, Julia did not want to know what Susan would do to her if she ever did something truly awful.
Chapter Four
W illiam’s stomach lurched—just as it did when his ship dropped into a trough in a storm-tossed sea. Julia’s emerald green eyes widened, and her cheeks lost their color. He squelched the desire to cross the room and draw her into his arms, to beg her forgiveness for walking away from her twelve years ago. He had not slept last night, his thoughts entangled with comparisons of Julia Witherington as he’d seen her at dinner and the memory he’d carried tucked away in his heart for so many years. Though he’d thought it improbable, she was even more beautiful now than she had been at seventeen.
Susan cleared her throat, and he remembered himself and bowed. “Miss Witherington.”
She came up out of a stiff curtsey. “Captain Ransome. I had not known you were expected, or I would have timed my call so as not to intrude—”
“Don’t be a goose, Julia.” Susan waved her hands for both of them to sit. “William has come to stay a few weeks until his ship is repaired.” She pulled the bell cord by the door. “William, did Fawkes show you to your room?”
He dragged his gaze away from the pink ribbon Miss Witherington rolled around her long, slender fingers. “No. He suggested I see you first.”
Susan hooked her arm through his. “Come then, I will show you. Julia, we shall return shortly.” The housekeeper stepped into the room. “Ah, Agatha. Have Cook send up tea, please.”
“I...” Julia looked from Susan to William and back to Susan.
“Come, William.”
He followed his best friend’s wife out of the room and retrieved his small valise from the floor just outside the door.
“Imagine my surprise,” Susan looked over her shoulder, preceding him up the stairs, “when dear Julia arrived for a visit on the same day I expected you to come stay.”
The image of Julia’s green eyes, full of pained displeasure, floated in his mind. “Susan, you know Miss Witherington does not welcome my presence.”
Susan’s laughter—so different than that of his men—jarred him. “Nonsense. She is as happy as I to greet an old friend.” She stopped at the last door on the back side of the house. “Here is your room. I expect to see you in no less than twenty minutes.” She wagged her finger at him.
He opened his mouth to disagree with her on Julia’s happiness to see him, but the words stuck in his throat when he entered the luxurious bedroom. The heavy wood furniture—from the carved canopy supported by pillar-like bedposts to the wardrobe with a sparkling mirror in the door—was fancier than the finest inn William had ever stayed at.
“Twenty minutes.” Susan flitted away.
It was just his luck Julia Witherington had chosen to call on Susan Yates today. And with the discomfort she’d shown last night and just now at his presence, he couldn’t imagine why his innards—and good sense—mutinied at the thought of being near her.
If he had not written his mother and asked her to meet him in Portsmouth for a visit, he could have escaped north to Gateacre.
He sank onto a chaise that flanked the Grecian fireplace. “Lord, give me strength to overcome any lingering romantic thoughts of Julia Witherington. Make me forget I once planned to marry her.”
Julia ceased pacing when Susan reappeared. “Really, I should leave. You must have much you wish to discuss with Captain
Susan’s eyes sparkled when she looked from Julia to William. “Miss Julia Witherington, I believe you know Captain William Ransome.”
If being forced to spend time with William was Susan’s idea of an appropriate punishment for missing the card party last night, Julia did not want to know what Susan would do to her if she ever did something truly awful.
Chapter Four
W illiam’s stomach lurched—just as it did when his ship dropped into a trough in a storm-tossed sea. Julia’s emerald green eyes widened, and her cheeks lost their color. He squelched the desire to cross the room and draw her into his arms, to beg her forgiveness for walking away from her twelve years ago. He had not slept last night, his thoughts entangled with comparisons of Julia Witherington as he’d seen her at dinner and the memory he’d carried tucked away in his heart for so many years. Though he’d thought it improbable, she was even more beautiful now than she had been at seventeen.
Susan cleared her throat, and he remembered himself and bowed. “Miss Witherington.”
She came up out of a stiff curtsey. “Captain Ransome. I had not known you were expected, or I would have timed my call so as not to intrude—”
“Don’t be a goose, Julia.” Susan waved her hands for both of them to sit. “William has come to stay a few weeks until his ship is repaired.” She pulled the bell cord by the door. “William, did Fawkes show you to your room?”
He dragged his gaze away from the pink ribbon Miss Witherington rolled around her long, slender fingers. “No. He suggested I see you first.”
Susan hooked her arm through his. “Come then, I will show you. Julia, we shall return shortly.” The housekeeper stepped into the room. “Ah, Agatha. Have Cook send up tea, please.”
“I...” Julia looked from Susan to William and back to Susan.
“Come, William.”
He followed his best friend’s wife out of the room and retrieved his small valise from the floor just outside the door.
“Imagine my surprise,” Susan looked over her shoulder, preceding him up the stairs, “when dear Julia arrived for a visit on the same day I expected you to come stay.”
The image of Julia’s green eyes, full of pained displeasure, floated in his mind. “Susan, you know Miss Witherington does not welcome my presence.”
Susan’s laughter—so different than that of his men—jarred him. “Nonsense. She is as happy as I to greet an old friend.” She stopped at the last door on the back side of the house. “Here is your room. I expect to see you in no less than twenty minutes.” She wagged her finger at him.
He opened his mouth to disagree with her on Julia’s happiness to see him, but the words stuck in his throat when he entered the luxurious bedroom. The heavy wood furniture—from the carved canopy supported by pillar-like bedposts to the wardrobe with a sparkling mirror in the door—was fancier than the finest inn William had ever stayed at.
“Twenty minutes.” Susan flitted away.
It was just his luck Julia Witherington had chosen to call on Susan Yates today. And with the discomfort she’d shown last night and just now at his presence, he couldn’t imagine why his innards—and good sense—mutinied at the thought of being near her.
If he had not written his mother and asked her to meet him in Portsmouth for a visit, he could have escaped north to Gateacre.
He sank onto a chaise that flanked the Grecian fireplace. “Lord, give me strength to overcome any lingering romantic thoughts of Julia Witherington. Make me forget I once planned to marry her.”
Julia ceased pacing when Susan reappeared. “Really, I should leave. You must have much you wish to discuss with Captain
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