Captain Of Her Heart Read Free Page A

toss her on her backside?  Biting her lip, she spared a quick glance at her escort, just as the latch turned with a mighty creak, and the oak panel opened to reveal a very attractive young woman.
    Even as Alex sank into a dark vortex of shock and misery, she splayed her arms for balance.  “I am sorry to disturb you, but I must have the wrong address.”
    “It is no trouble, ma’am.”  Dressed in a worn gown of faded print muslin, with a disheveled braid draped over her shoulder, the fair-haired beauty blinked.  “Are you looking for Captain Collingwood?”
    “Yes.”  As the world seemed to spin beyond her control, Alex thought she might revisit her breakfast.  “Is this not his lodging?”
    “Oh, the captain resides here, but he is at the yard.”  The girl wiped her hands on a threadbare apron and nodded once.  “I am Molly, the cook-maid.  And how may I help you?”
    “I am Miss Seymour—the captain’s sister.”  The charwoman presented a snag Alex had not foreseen, and she had to think on her feet.  “Has Jason not spoken of my visit?”
    “Cap’n never mentioned a sister, ma’am.  But then we do not converse much.”  Molly sketched a half-curtsey.  “So pleased to meet you.”
    “I am certain my brother has more pressing matters, including the refitting of the Intrepid , or some such.”  With renewed confidence, Alex waved to the footman, who hauled her trunk toward the cottage.  “Daresay it slipped his mind.”
    “Indeed, ma’am.  I rarely see Cap’n Collingwood, as he is usually gone when I arrive, and I leave his dinner on the range before he returns.  Not much time for talk.”  And then Molly retreated.  “Will you come inside?”
    Tugging at her kidskin gloves, Alex crossed the threshold and surveyed the meager surroundings.  “Why, it is charming.”
    The main room was huge, with a high ceiling and exposed roof supports.  The spartan furnishings consisted of an unmatched overstuffed chair and sofa, which were clean but frayed about the edges.  Twin side tables perched at either side of the sofa, the well-worn wood floor had nary a speck of dust or dirt, and two tattered wool rugs distinguished the living area from the kitchen.
    A delightful hearth occupied the middle of the sidewall, with an old black stove situated to the left.  A large washbasin inhabited one corner, and a square table and chairs for two hugged a window, which overlooked the drive.
    “Where shall I deposit your trunk, Miss Seymour?”  The footman paused in the entryway.
    “My bedchamber will be fine.”  Alex gazed at the charwoman.  “Can you show me to my quarters, Molly?”
    “I beg your pardon?”  The young woman stammered, as she shuffled her feet.  “Your quarters, ma’am?”
    “Yes.”  Alex clasped her hands, as her plan progressed to perfection.  “Where do I sleep?  And I should like to change from my traveling dress.”
    “Perhaps your brother forgot to inform you this cottage has only one bedchamber.”  The maid shifted her weight.  “Do you suppose Cap’n intended for you to take a room at the inn?”
    Alex had not anticipated that none too minor hiccup.  In truth, she had not known what to expect of Jason’s rented accommodations, but she had envisioned the usual palatial dwelling—a grand house, with chambers aplenty and a dependable staff.  While the miniscule abode possessed unvarnished appeal, it was rather rustic for her taste, and it was a vast deal less than she required.
    Facing the concerted and perplexing stares of Molly and the footman, Alex sought a suitable rejoinder, as she had to rid herself of the meddlesome interlopers before Jason returned and found her waiting, because she was not half so assured of her welcome.
    “My brother is quite the gentleman, so I am positive he would want me to have privacy, and Jason will sleep on the sofa.”  Even as she uttered the pathetic claim, because it was obvious the piece of furniture could never