Courage, A Captain's Wife

By Priscilla Laster

Priscilla takes a classy approach in her latest story line. The appearance of a handsome, knighted naval captain at the door of a lonely pregnant woman would’ve been scandal in most of England. In this case, that door is that of a departed war hero & husband. His widow (Catherine) finds the courage to live on and love again. Will she lose a second husband to the duties of Naval Captain? #NonSmut

• Language: English
• Publisher: Priscilla Laster
• Release date: Jun 18, 2016
• ISBN: 9781311410429

Priscilla Laster

Welcome to Priscilla’s $0.99 promotion happening right now. Until further notice, all Priscilla Laster reads are reduced. ALL OF THEM. Regardless of the word-count or cover-art contributions. Why not add a few 'Priscilla' titles to your digital library? Click on the profile to browse her full catalogue. "Hi everybody! My name is Priscilla and I am so excited about Smash-words. Approximately 50% of my books have been published (here) on Smashwords. That's 70 books. I'm celebrating this accomplishment by running a $0.99 cent 'TAKE'EM ALL' promotion. I've been writing erotica/romance stories for a while. My stories typically come from a dream I had the previous night. I have over 140+ titles that are being sorted and made available for Smash-Words. Two of my 'best friends forever' are helping me to post titles as fast as corresponding cover arts can be created. It is my dream that I become your faithful source of romance and smutty erotica reads. 99% of my reads can be enjoyed by men and women. Don't let the "tags" fool you. Please remember that I'll never claim to be a perfect writer. I'll never claim to be the best author. My only claim is that I am a great dreamer who loves to write. I record the events of my daydreams that are interesting. I don't know you personally, but I already appreciate you. You don't even have to purchase one of my reads. I appreciate you for simply being a reader. In a special way, you're a 'romantic' like me. You may even be a dreamer like me. We are a special kind of people. My journey to becoming your favorite Smash-Words author starts with your positive feedback and sincere encouragements. Don't be a stranger. My train is full steam ahead. Join me on Facebook. " - Priscilla Laster

Book preview

Courage

A Captain’s Wife

By: Priscilla Laster

The appearance of a handsome, knighted naval captain at the door of a lonely pregnant woman would’ve been scandal in most of England. In this case, that door is that of a departed war hero & husband. His widow (Catherine) finds the courage to live on and love again. Will she lose a second husband to the duties of Naval Captain?

Erotica, England, Widow, Ship, Voyage, Romance, Courtroom, Adrift, Women’s, Sex, Navy, Captain

Copyright © 2016 All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review or scholarly journal.

CHAPTER I

The appearance of a handsome, knighted naval captain at the door of a pregnant woman living by herself would have been an occasion for scandal in many of the villages in the interior of England, particularly as he had already visited the day before. But in a coastal town such as Dartmouth, where several of Sir Edward Pelham's lieutenants rented homes, it was widely thought that a second visit simply meant even more bad news for the current occupant of Number 7 Welmore Street.

It's Sir Edward, ma'am, Lucy said, peering around the door to the drawing room where the pregnant woman sat on a modest sofa.

Thank you, Lucy. Would you please show him in? And please, Lucy, I thought we had agreed that I was to be called Catherine.

Yes, ma'am, the other girl said automatically, a smile playing across her lips.

Catherine Stanhope sighed as Lucy left to fetch the gentleman whom Catherine had met only twice before: in early November, when Geoffrey had joined the HMS Classic (as its second lieutenant); and just yesterday, when he had appeared at her door to inform her of her husband's death, some three months earlier, from injuries received in battle. The shock had been severe, and Sir Edward, somewhat ill at ease after helping her to a couch, had left shortly thereafter. Within the hour, Lucy Burton had knocked firmly on the door, explaining that she had been sent by Sir Edward to take care of Mrs. Stanhope. Catherine's protests that she could not afford a maid were brushed aside, and by morning the girl was firmly entrenched in the household.

Sir Edward, Catherine murmured, rising to her feet as he entered.

Mrs. Stanhope, he said, his hat under his arm. Said, I hope I see you less, er, that is to say, more settled?

Thank you, Sir Edward, I am quite recovered, and will not require you to catch me a second time. I must insist, however, that you discharge poor Lucy from her employment, for I will have no means by which to pay a maid once I receive the last of my late husband's pay. I dare say, based on what he has told me, that the Admiralty will ask for reimbursement of the last three months' pay, on the grounds that he had already died without properly notifying them.

Sir Edward stifled a smile. Geoffrey Stanhope had indeed married well.

Madam, he said with a slight bow of his head,

I have deposited a sufficient sum with one of your local attorneys to keep her in your service for the next year. If after that you no longer wish to retain her yourself, you have but to tell her.

You are too kind, Catherine smiled.

Will you not sit down? Lucy?

Lucy peered around the door from her listening post.

Ma'am?

Could you make us some tea please, Lucy? I take it from your return, Sir Edward, that you have more to tell me?

Indeed I do, Mrs. Stanhope. I would like first of all to relate to you the circumstances of your husband's death, merely by way of demonstrating the esteem by which he was held by all of the officers and men of the Classic.

Catherine simply nodded to indicate that he could proceed. She would not faint again. She had spent yesterday afternoon and night in anguish and grief, and by morning she had learned, if not to put those emotions aside, then at least how to mask them when appropriate.

First of all, madam, let me say that your husband was one of the finest officers I have ever commanded. He served under me as a midshipman, and I considered myself extraordinarily fortunate to have him assigned to me upon his passing the examination for lieutenant.

Catherine allowed herself a faint smile.

In January, we were given intelligence of a Spanish treasure ship. We found her right where we should, off the coast of South America, and captured her with little problem. The Spanish, you will recall, madam, are currently ruled by Joseph Bonaparte, the Emperor's brother. Mr. Stanhope - your husband - was given command of the prize and ordered to carry her across the Atlantic into Portsmouth. A day later, however, we learned that the intelligence had been incomplete. We were faced with a French frigate equal to ours as well as a smaller sloop, and would have fallen to them but for the incredible reappearance of the prize, your husband in command, firing its four meager cannons to remarkable effect and ultimately boarding the frigate.

Sir Edward paused, as if he thought he had not clearly made himself understood.

He boarded the frigate, madam, he emphasized, with the small prize crew at his back.

Thank you, sir, Catherine said.

He might have carried it, too, but for the Classic's failure to bring her starboard guns to bear in time. That is my shame, ma'am, and that of my other lieutenants. Thankfully, we were able to ultimately capture both ships ourselves, but at considerable price. Your husband, Mrs. Stanhope, lay mortally wounded on the frigate's deck.

It sounds a -- a brave death, Catherine said, her voice faltering only slightly.

Indeed, madam, the captain said fervently.

I have never seen one braver. He was under our surgeon's care for the following two weeks, and in the hospital in Hamilton, but in the end, the infection proved too much. If I may say, ma'am, his funeral was one of the largest ever seen in Bermuda.

Sir Edward was clearly moved himself, and Catherine, unable to speak, nodded again by way of reply.

My apologies, madam.

Sir Edward bowed again.

I did not intend to -- that is to say, I called on you today with a wholly different purpose. First of all, I have here a summary of your husband's share of the prize money. The ship was filled with silver, and a lieutenant's share is, er, considerable.

Catherine stared in astonishment at the paper she had been handed.

Sir, I have not seen so much money in my life.

She finally looked up at her visitor.

I imagine not, he chuckled quietly.

"All of the men of the Classic have done quite well by our voyage. And there may be some additional money when the Admiralty purchases the ships we captured. Unfortunately, madam, I can make no promises as to when you will receive these funds. While he was in the hospital, your husband did prepare a will, bequeathing all of his possessions to you and naming his brother, James, as his executor. I have engaged a local attorney, a Mister Digby, who appears to have a sound reputation among the local businessmen, and I left the will, and a draft for the prize money, with him."

Catherine's face fell once again.

…. Which brings me to the next thought.

Sir Edward continued.

Catherine watched as Sir Edward suddenly grew uncomfortable. Lucy's arrival with the tea gave him a chance to collect his thoughts, and when the young girl had departed, he pulled another paper from his jacket.

Your husband was delighted to learn from one of your letters, madam, that you were with child, he continued, and, as you know, his delight was of a very infectious nature. So the crew, knowing of your condition, undertook a subscription to provide some additional support for you. They each…

He stumbled over the words despite his careful preparation –

They all, every man-jack, contributed two pounds of their own prize money, madam, for a total of 450 pounds.

Catherine realized that her mouth had fallen open, and slammed it shut.

Needless to say, their example was too much for the gunroom and the wardroom, and your husband's fellow officers have added an additional thousand pounds. I was under Admiralty orders, madam, and did quite well myself by the capture. So I have, er, matched my shipmates' efforts with one of my own. In addition, madam, your husband's brother, William, the commander of His Majesty's sloop Wallace, was in Bermuda at the same time, and he made a contribution that matched all of ours, ma'am.

Catherine sat back against the chair, her heart fluttering in her chest.

But that amounts exceeds...

Her voice trailed off as she silently did the sums in her head.

Six thousand pounds, yes.

Sir Edward smiled at her.

Needless to say, I was unwilling to bring such an amount to Dartmouth, Mrs. Stanhope. So I took the liberty of investing it on your behalf in the Navy Funds, which pay an annual return of five percent, or approximately 300 pounds. So you see, you will be able to keep the young lady in your employ as long as she proves satisfactory. I have asked Mr. Digby, the attorney, to serve as your agent for the moment in dealing with the Admiralty and the Funds' administrators. You may wish to ask him to invest your share of the prize money as well, once you receive it, or you may choose another agent if you wish. In any event, I would recommend not depositing all of your money with the local bank, simply because, um...

People talk? Catherine smiled.

Exactly, Sir Edward said as he stood up.

I will detain you no more, Mrs. Stanhope. My ship awaits off the coast, and I am overdue at the Admiralty.

Catherine raised her eyebrows in surprise.

Not to worry, he said with an even bigger smile.

Their Lordships place more value on a captain who values his subordinates than they do on precise punctuality. Usually. Oh, I am terribly sorry. I also have a letter from Captain Stanhope.

Captain Stanhope?

Catherine accepted the letter, addressed to ‘My Dearest Sister’.

By courtesy, ma'am, those given the rank of Master and Commander in the Navy are called Captain. In this case, Captain William Stanhope, your husband's brother, of the Wallace. And with that, I will take my leave.

After a final bow to his lieutenant's widow, Captain Pelham walked through the streets of Dartmouth on his way to the quay where his gig awaited. He politely touched his hat to each of the women that he passed, servants and upper class alike. None of them, in his estimation, held a candle to the woman he had just left. Like his junior officers, he had felt a pang of envy when his young second lieutenant had brought his new wife on board the ship before their departure six months ago. Catherine Stanhope's beauty was not of the ethereal nature celebrated in art and literature, and fashionable among the London crowd. Hers were the substantial, healthy good looks of a young woman just growing into her adulthood, with long auburn hair, deep brown eyes, and a ready smile that complemented her obvious wit and intelligence. It was a pity that at her age, which he guessed as twenty, or perhaps twenty-one, she would spend the next year wearing black. But of course, it was even more a pity that she had lost as fine a husband as Geoffrey Stanhope no doubt would have been. Just as it was a pity that he, and England, had lost as fine an officer as Geoffrey Stanhope was, and as fine a captain as he would have become.

He nodded to his coxswain as he stepped into the boat and took his seat for the silent row back to the Classic. The woman in question was still staring at the envelope he had left. She had read her husband's last letter three times yesterday, and her tears had soon rendered some of the words nearly illegible. Finally, she had had to set it aside. Dictated in the hospital, and delivered yesterday by his captain, Geoffrey had openly praised the men in his command, men who had followed him without hesitation onto the deck of the Spanish frigate despite their numbers. He lamented the loss of two, and implored her not to worry about himself, that he would be fine once the medicos and sawbones had fixed him up and returned him to duty. He had jokingly expressed a wish that their new child be a girl, because the boy would undoubtedly look like him, and he would not wish that upon anyone. A girl, on the other hand, that looked like Catherine, would be a benefit to Dartmouth, to England, and to the entire world. He had signed the letter himself, three days before he finally succumbed. She was of two minds about this new envelope. The only other letter she had received from Geoffrey's family had arrived shortly after she had returned from her shipboard visit. Impressed with the embossed stationary, with the Earl of Prescott's crest used as a seal, and with the elegant Catherine on the cover, she had opened it eagerly. Inside had been two pages of the most vitriolic invective she had ever read, from the opening salutation. "Cunt:" -- to the close.

I shall have my lawyers contact you if you ever attempt to associate your name with that of the distinguished earldom of Prescott.

Geoffrey's father had spared no expense in investigating Catherine's family. He knew of her own father, the former publisher's clerk