Her Heart's Captain Read Free Page B

officers don’t carry seabags,” she declared firmly. However, before they were done with the packing, they had filled not only the trunk but a portmanteau, two hatboxes and a leather case filled with toilet articles.
    When the time for departure neared, it suddenly occurred to Lady Garvin that she and Jenny could delay the separation by accompanying the boy to Portsmouth. “Oh Mama,” Jenny exclaimed, “what a splendid idea! We can see him off right from the wharf!”
    Robbie, who’d been struggling to control his own feelings of apprehenson, willingly agreed to their company. On the morning of the day before Robbie was due to sign on, the three Garvins—Jenny, Robbie and their mother—climbed into their carriage and set out from Willowrise for what would be a three-day journey for the ladies and the beginning of a six-month journey for the boy.
    By the time the carriage arrived at the Grey Gull Inn at Portsmouth, it was long after dark. The inn had been recommended to them by their Gloucester neighbor, Lord Clement, but it was a small, disappointing hostelry with draughty windows and only one private dining room which was far from clean. Lady Garvin, whose stomach was delicate in the best of circumstances, was taken ill with a digestive upset during the night and by morning was in no condition to rise from her bed. Queasy, miserable and unable to hide her tears, she was forced to bid her son farewell from her bed. “I hope you don’t mind, dearest,” she explained weakly, “but I’m completely incapable of facing a trip to the wharf and standing about in the cold sea breeze just to watch your ship depart.”
    â€œI understand, Mama,” the boy assured her, bending over and kissing her cheek. “It was good of you to come this far.”
    Lady Garvin, with a cry of anguish, clutched him around the neck. “Oh, my beloved child!” she wept. “You will take c-care of yourself, won’t you?”
    â€œDon’t worry, Mama. And don’t cry. Please don’t cry. I’ll be home in a few months, you know. It’s just the same as if I were away at school.”
    â€œIt’s not at all the same,” his mother whimpered, falling back against the pillows and dabbing at her eyes with the corner of her comforter. “But I mustn’t dwell on … I promised Jenny I’d be brave.” She tried courageously to get herself under control. “Goodbye, my love,” she said, managing a pathetic little smile. “Write as often as you can.”
    Jenny (after being assured by her mother that the digestive disorder which had troubled her during the night would soon be brought under control by the avoidance of any of the inn’s dreadful food, a few additional hours of rest and the ingestion of some strong, hot tea) decided that she needn’t deny herself the opportunity to see her brother embark. Leaving her mother under the protection of their coachman and the ministrations of a solicitous chambermaid, she set off from the inn with her brother in a hired carriage.
    As they drew close to the dock, Robbie’s qualms seemed to fade away. His pulse began to race in eager anticipation of the adventures that lay just over the horizon. “Can you smell the ocean?” he crowed, throwing open his carriage window and sniffing the air. He bounced on the seat, grinning in delight. “Isn’t that the most exciting smell in the world?”
    Jenny nodded her agrement and pressed her nose to her window to take in all the colorful sights. The streets were narrow and crowded with carriages, carts, wheelbarrows and pedestrians. There was too much activity for the eye to catch or the mind to grasp all at once. Everyone seemed to be in a hurry. All sorts of persons—from stiff-collared, dapper gentlemen to scruffy, ill-clad children—were skirting and dodging anyone or anything that impeded their progress to what