Prize of My Heart

Lorena spooned a cream-dipped raspberry into her mouth. She hadn’t believed Mr. Smith’s sea yarn for a moment, but if ever there were a man who could rip a shark from the bowels of the sea . . .

The captain wiped his mouth on his napkin. “Aye, sir, I confess a fondness for all sweets. Until now, if you had asked me to choose a favorite, I would have said nothing is as satisfying to the stomach as a slice of warm gingerbread. Having spent most of my life at sea, I’ve long endured meals of sour beef and the bitter taste of weevils in a ship’s biscuit. So when I have the good fortune to enjoy home-cooked fare and delicacies like this, I can hardly remember my manners and restrain myself from gluttony. My apologies, sir”—he motioned to the second helping of chocolate Mrs. Culliford placed before him—“for now that I have tasted these, I fear all hope on that score is lost.”

Papa chuckled heartily. “I’ll have you know, Captain, my daughter made those custards you seem to be enjoying so well.”

“You don’t say? Well, sir, I am impressed.” The captain turned to regard Lorena. “My compliments to you, Miss Huntley. They are delicious.”

“Lorena is known throughout Duxborotown for her exceptional cakes and sweets,” offered Mrs. Culliford, “and gingerbread happens to be one of her specialties.”

Papa gave her a wink, saying, “Perhaps, Captain, we can convince her to bake you a cake of gingerbread before you leave Duxboro.”

“But I could hardly expect such a kindness,” the captain replied. “No, not after Miss Huntley has already been so generous with her hospitality.”

The captain’s eyes turned a stormy blue. They shifted over her and sized her up, reminding Lorena of a shark about to close in and take a bite out of her composure. He fixed her with a steady gaze while one hand reached behind his head to rub the spot where Drew’s stone had struck.

She understood the warning—Captain Talvis was not going to let her forget their unfortunate parting this morning.

She swallowed, and the spoon slipped from her fingers, clanging to the floor with a racket that had every eye in the room turning to gape.

“Don’t trouble yourself, Lorena. I shall pick it up.”

As Temperance hurried to retrieve the utensil from under the table, Lorena felt heat rising to her cheeks. With everyone’s attention on her clumsiness, she assumed Captain Talvis’s intimidating antic had escaped notice.

She was mistaken.

Drew pulled back on his spoon and, with the same marksmanship he had exhibited with his sling, struck the man square in the eye with a dollop of custard.

“Aaauuggh.” The captain wiped his muddied eye. After examining the sticky mess the chocolate had made of his fingers, he searched for the origin of his attack.

Lorena held her breath, for Drew was glaring at the man, boldly proclaiming his guilt when only that morning he had promised to behave.

Her father threw down his napkin. “Drew, what have you done? I don’t understand your uncivil conduct and neither shall I tolerate it.” Picking up the napkin once again, he mopped his forehead, inhaling deeply as though trying to draw patience out of the air. “Captain, please accept my heartfelt apologies. I am dreadfully sorry. Rest assured, the boy shall be punished. Too many people wanting to do for him, you see. Too many well-meaning folks willing to indulge him. And I am as guilty as any. I tell my carpenters no more toys, and every day I find another carved horse here, a painted solider there. Temperance runs around the house picking them up off the floor, and Drew is right behind her scattering others.” He heaved a sigh that ended his rambling and added, “Lorena, perhaps you should take him up to bed now.”

“Yes, Papa.”

“No. Mr. Huntley, please. That isn’t necessary.” Captain Talvis rose, his cheek still bearing traces of chocolate. “I’m sure the lad meant no harm. I recall many a time taking out my youthful aggression on others for no good reason other than the mischief inside me.” He shrugged, chuckling as though it were all a joke. “Such is the way with little boys. There’s no need to banish him from the table.”

Jabez Smith rolled his eyes and dropped his forehead in his hand.

But Papa, Lorena noticed, seemed genuinely impressed with the captain’s tolerance and not the least surprised at his defense of Drew, as Lorena herself was.

“Thank you for your understanding, Captain,” he said. “However, we do abide by certain rules in this house.”

Lorena stood, eager to put an end to an exhausting, event-filled day. Drew scooted off his chair and took refuge in her skirts, burying his face in their satin folds. He was expecting her to come to his defense, and because she felt guilty for not listening to instinct and putting him to bed sooner, she laid a protective hand on his pale curls. “I’m sure Drew regrets his actions. Don’t you, sweetheart? Apologize to Captain Talvis.”

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