“I am not now, nor will I ever be, interested in your brother.” Brand put his lips to the shell of her ear. “I want to know about you, Lizzy.”
A shiver danced down her spine. Warmth spread through her body from his proximity. “My parents, upon discovering they would bear another child—me—returned to England. They didn’t wish to raise two children—and one an infant—so far away from home.” She kept her attention on the window display. “They settled in Bedfordshire where my father secured a living. It was an idyllic life, I suppose, though a sparse one. We were quite poor, for the lord who was supposed to support Papa’s vicarage was lax in his payments. We often survived solely on donations from the villagers.”
“Damned fool peers,” Brand whispered, but he moved her toward the next shop.
“I wouldn’t know about that. No doubt the man had his reasons.”
The captain cursed beneath his breath. “Yes, laziness.”
“Suffice it to say, we got along well enough, but as William grew, my father saw talent in him, a fire for the Lord I suppose you could say. He funneled all his free time into my brother. I was left behind with Mama with nothing to do except learn domestic skills that would benefit a woman of the church and in keeping a home for my husband.”
“Yet you remained unmarried.” It wasn’t a question.
“I was engaged once. Several years ago. William brought home a young man to dinner. Jacob was in the military, eager to fight for his country, and due to leave for the front in a few weeks. Papa basically arranged the match and the subsequent engagement, for I was painfully shy and awkward around the young men in the village.”
“I’m glad to see you’ve outgrown that tendency.” Humor threaded through his voice.
It pulled a smile from her as she looked at the few dresses on display in the shop window. These weren’t as fine as the golden ball gown, but they were equally as pretty and well out of her pitiful budget, no doubt. “I am a work in progress. However, I do have moments where I want to pelt away from people and hide, for having all eyes on me is something I’m not accustomed to.”
“Do you feel that way when you’re with me?” The question, asked in a soft voice, sent a thrill into her lower belly. “You seemed quite confident while on my sloop yesterday.”
Heat slapped at her cheeks. “At times I do, for your personality, your form, are large and commanding. You fill every space you occupy.” Was that too much to share? “But as time goes on, the more I’m in your company, the easier it is for me. I think…” She caught her lower lip between her teeth as she thought over her words. “I think you give me the confidence I never found from my family.”
“That’s all to the good.”
“Yes.” Elizabeth shrugged. She studied a dress made of ivory muslin with dear little embroidered rosebuds along the bodice. “However, the war took Jacob’s life the first battle he saw. He was a chaplain but anxious to defend England from evil. I never had the opportunity to spend much time with him, and he’d never even kissed me goodbye.” Quick tears pricked at her eyelids. She blinked them away, for it wouldn’t do to become a watering pot in the captain’s presence or on a public street. “Shortly after that, my parents died in a fire when the church was struck by lightning. They perished making certain others got out before them.” The memories tugged at her heart. Sadness rolled over her in wave after wave. A few tears fell to her cheeks despite her best intentions. “William is my sole family. I might not agree with his methods of Christianity, but he’s all I have.”
“Here.” Brand pressed a handkerchief into her hand. “I apologize for making you relive maudlin memories.”
“It’s quite all right. At least I’ll never forget the ones I’ve lost.” She dabbed at her eyes and cheeks with the linen square. His familiar scent of citrus and sandalwood teased her nose. The handkerchief he’d previously given her lay carefully folded and hidden at the bottom of a drawer in her clothespress. Elizabeth tapped a gloved fingertip to the glass. “Every year on my birthday, I wished for a pretty gown, but I knew better than to ask my parents for such an irresponsible thing. It was pure vanity, of course, yet I couldn’t help it. I thought that having a lovely dress might gain me notice and open a new path for me.”
Silence brewed between them for long moments. “I understand what that feels like, that being overlooked and alone.” When she glanced at him, a muscle in his cheek worked. The muscle in his arm beneath her fingers tightened. “My brothers took all the attention of my parents. Sometimes my cousins visited, and I had friends in them, but something happened between our fathers. I never saw them again. Once more I was forgotten. Still am.”
The admission from him surprised her, for he’d not yet spoken freely of his past. “I’m so sorry. That must have hurt you deeply.” Was that why he remained much a loner in life now, hidden away in Ipswich doing what he pleased?
“Oh, I’ve moved past it, especially after the stint in the Navy.” He refused to look at her. “People leave. That’s life. One grows accustomed to it.”
In that moment, Elizabeth had an epiphany. Brand played the rake, refused to go home to London, had fleeting liaisons and few friends to avoid hurt—abandonment—to never find himself lonely again. He did all this to cast them off before they left, before he invested time and emotions in them, before he was left with devastation. Her heart went out to him.
“You’re still hurting,” she said in a low voice.
“Poppycock. I’m quite fine.” He shook off her hand and put space between them. “I don’t need attachments.”
“Oh, Brand.” She sighed and again wiped at her eyes. “You haven’t healed from anything in your life, have you?” He was naught but a disappointed little boy yearning for approval and attention from his parents, his superiors, his friends, his lovers.
He chopped a hand through the air. Lightning flashed in his gray eye. “Stop this gammon.” His voice was graveled. Confusion filled his expression. “I enjoy my life as it is and need no one.”
Empathy gave way to annoyance, for he’d slighted her with that statement. “Then why am I here? My presence is obviously moot if you’re perfectly content.” She retreated a step. The clip clop of horses’ hooves pulling passing carriages reached her ears, a reminder they were in public and such behavior was frowned upon. But his dismissal rankled. Had he been toying with her this whole time? For what purpose? “I should go.”
“Of course your presence isn’t moot.” Faint panic clouded his eye. When she frowned, Brand closed the distance and grabbed her hand. I’m sorry, Lizzy. Let me make things right. Each day I look forward to seeing you.”
That mollified her slightly. “How?” She couldn’t quite read the other emotions in his eye, but the panic confused her. What was he thinking?
“You’ll see.” The wicked grin had returned to his face, and before she could utter another word, he pulled her into the dressmaker’s shop. As a reed-thin woman approached them, Brand’s demeanor changed. “We need dresses and perhaps an elegant gown. Miss Hayhurst must believe she’s deserving of such.”
“Good afternoon, Captain Storme,” the woman said with a curious look between them. “What brings you to my shop? It’s been quite some time since I’ve last seen you.”
“Stop this,” Elizabeth hissed, her cheeks warm with embarrassment. Did his prior association with the shop keeper mean Brand often brought his mistresses there to pick out gifts for services rendered? Oh, dear, I’ll not live down the mortification. If it was true, the dressmaker no doubt thought she was his newest conquest.