“Captain? I see I’m going to have to earn my way back into your good graces before you’ll address me by my given name.” His heels beat the floorboards as he strode inside, tossed the sprig into the hearth, and then joined her at the breadboard table. “As it happens, that is precisely my reason for coming, Lorena, so let’s get to it, shall we?”
He braced his hands on the back of a yellow-painted Windsor chair. “I confess. Perhaps I was trying to win your favor with my attentions to Drew. But please, don’t fault me for that. It does not diminish my affection for the boy.”
Lorena gave him a stern eye. “After your roughness yesterday, I find you a bad influence. I have a mind not to let you anywhere near that child.”
“You’ve been listening to Louder.”
“I’m not one to be influenced by anything George or anyone else has to say. I form my own opinions.”
“Good, then there’s hope for me yet.” His eyes pleaded for understanding, and as Lorena gazed back at his rugged face bordered by long side whiskers, she found him impressively handsome.
Her thick hair was bound inside a kerchief. Its heavy coil threatened to unfurl. She felt sticky and wilted and likely had at least one smudge of flour on her face, but if she felt self-conscious about her appearance, she preferred not to show it. She glanced down, testing the firmness of her batter with a finger.
He followed her movements with his eyes, stared at the contents of the earthenware bowl, then leaned over it to take in its aroma. “Is that molasses I smell?” His tone was expectant.
Before she could reply, he reached for her wrist and raised her hand to his mouth to taste the gooey batter on her finger. His eyes glittered with delight. Lorena knew at once he recognized the flavor.
“Gingerbread. And here I thought you were angry with me. I’ve been pacing the wharf, reluctant to confront you for the reception I’d get.”
Lorena snatched back her hand. “Insufferable man. You actually believe I am baking for you?”
“Aren’t you?” he asked.
She wiped her finger on her apron, unable to remove the feel of his lips from her skin. He overwhelmed her senses, awakened her to feelings she’d do well to turn away from.
“Very well, Captain, you have extracted a smile out of me, as was your intent the moment you entered my kitchen. I have experience with little boys and I see through their games. That does not forgive your savage behavior yesterday.”
“Aye, my actions were impulsive. I was wrong to strike George Louder. Still, I do not care for his accusations. That fellow uses his tongue as rashly as I raised my fists. The thing is, I’ve learned to react when threatened. Sometimes I forget I am no longer at war. And Louder poses no threat. At least I have no reason to believe he does, but something about him warns me he’s not to be trusted. Why is that, Lorena? Is there something more I should know about him?”
“Why would you ask such a question? What do you know of George?”
He regarded her with an assessing stare. “Nothing. It is you who know something, I believe.”
“I know that very soon he shall be leaving my father’s employ to make a fresh start in England.”
“England?” He took the news with great surprise and some measure of suspicion. “Lorena, may I ask the nature of your relationship with him?”
She found Brogan’s question presumptuous, but refusing to say anything could very well give him the wrong impression. And strangely, Lorena did not wish that.
There might have been a time she felt romance blooming between a young George Louder and herself. Having grown up in the same environment, they had things in common, confidences to share. But with maturity had come ambition, and George’s pursuits had turned exclusively to his studies. No longer the eager, playful friend of her childhood, George’s passion had become shipbuilding and his drafting. This pleased her father, certainly, as George had grown into one of Duxboro’s most skilled shipwrights.
Lorena, however, felt an estrangement from her friend and focused her affections on the motherless boy who had joined her household. With her days filled, she forgot any romantic interest in George. But George, who didn’t require emotion, who seemed to understand nothing of romantic love, believed career success alone would win her hand. Marriage to him was to be just one more triumph on his list of achievements. Perhaps for many women, a man’s ability to provide financial security was reason enough to consider him, but it wasn’t enough for Lorena. Not nearly enough.
“I have known George from girlhood,” she said. “Ours is a friendship based on long acquaintance. Nothing more.”
“Nothing more you say, and yet you traveled to meeting with him on Sunday. I’ve seen the possessive glances he casts your way. Nothing more and yet you jump to Louder’s defense at a bit of justly deserved bullying, but leave me rotting in the wet marsh grass while I lay unconscious.”