a monster dinner of sausage, neeps and taties, whig bread and Cumberland butter. Captain, I told him to serve it in here, because you’re starting to interest me.’
Chapter Four
Mary Rennie, he’ll think you’re the most outrageous flirt in the history of Scotland, she scolded herself, amazed, as she set the pudding on the table. ‘I mean...’ she started, then stopped, honest to her heart’s core, because that was how she was raised. ‘No, I mean just that. I’ve met a rascally army officer or two, but never a sea captain. And could we be cousins?’
The sea captain laughed out loud, which surprised her, considering stories she had heard of the solemn and stoic men of that profession.
‘A rascally army officer or two? That is all?’ he teased in turn. ‘There are many more, Miss Rennie. Just ask any inmate of the Royal Navy. As for cousins, dessert first. Genealogy can wait.’
He accepted the bowl of pudding after she poured a little clotted cream on top. He must have known they were both watching him, but he dug into the dessert with a single-minded zeal that told her worlds about him. The first bite must have been a little bit of heaven, because he rolled his eyes. She couldn’t help observing his face, with its sharp features and weather wrinkles. He looked forty-five at least, but it was entirely possible that he was younger.
‘Twelve years, madam,’ he said, gesturing with the spoon, but so careful not to drop a scrap. ‘I have wanted this for twelve years.’
Mary looked at his son, already seeing a co-conspirator there. ‘What do you think? Should we let him eat the whole lot?’
Nathan shook his head. ‘I want some, too, and besides, Mrs Pritchert would scold him for eating dessert first.’
She glanced at the captain, already knowing he would supply the details, even though the pudding beckoned.
‘Mrs Pritchert is an estimable female and the widow of my best sailing master. She is rearing Nathan, because his mother died in an earthquake in Oporto. We think he was a week old.’
He spoke with a matter-of-fact tone that she found beguiling, considering that she was weary of her aunt’s circumlocutions and the tragedy that was Cousin Dina’s life. She liked the look of him, too. Most of the men she knew were men of business and finance like her uncle, with white, indoor skin and soft hands. None of them had an interesting scar like the one that ran from Captain Rennie’s left eye to his hairline. And absolutely no one had a peg-leg.
‘How on earth did you get Nathan home?’ she asked, intrigued by two lives that were far more interesting than hers.
‘By the grace of God, a goat and a frigate with willing nursemaids,’ he said, and there was no overlooking the fun in his eyes. She could only imagine at the desperate sadness, but that had probably been about ten years ago, if Nathan was as young as he looked. She knew how time could smooth away jagged edges; oh, my, she did.
It was good toffee pudding. She ate a smallish portion and left the rest to the captain. Nathan did the same thing, which touched her heart. Captain Rennie worked his way steadily through the dessert and appeared none the worse for wear when he finished. She could have laughed out loud as he eyed the residue around the rim of the bowl. Probably aboard his ship and dining alone, he would have run his finger around that rim; maybe even licked the bowl.
Mary hoped he would feel inclined to tell her more, before he and his son found their own private parlour. Her own day of travel had been boring in the extreme, without a single person of interest on the mail coach to talk to—not that she would have addressed a man she did not know, at least not one younger than sixty.
‘There now,’ he said, putting his empty bowl back on the tray. ‘After that restorative, let me think about my Rennie family tree. Feel free to jump in, Miss Rennie, if someone sounds familiar. My great-grandfather, Thomas Rennie, from Castle Douglas, had five sons. There was Angus, Max, Andrew, Douglas and Gerard. Ring any bells with you?’
‘Andrew,’ she replied promptly. ‘Named after the saint, but wasn’t, or so my father said. Papa was a rector, though, so few measured high on his scale. Papa’s grandfather was Gerard.’
He smiled at that. ‘Douglas was mine. I met Great-Uncle Andrew once.’ He leaned closer and there was no mistaking the twinkle in his eyes. ‘I also remember that Da counted the silverware when he left.’
Mary gasped and laughed out loud. ‘My father tells me similar stories. I think we are cousins of some stripe or other, Captain.’
She had not been raised to pry, but Mary knew she did not want either of them to leave her orbit so soon. Nearly a week on the road, tracking down Christmas cake, had shown her the dismal side of travel: there was no one to talk to. It was easy enough to bury her nose in a book on the mail coach during the day, or exchange pleasantries with respectable-looking females, but the evenings did drag.
‘I shouldn’t pry...’
‘Pardon me for asking...’
Nathan laughed at them both. ‘Mrs Pritchert always says to take turns in conversation.’
‘I always defer to rank. You first, Captain Cousin.’
‘I defer to the ladies, Cousin Mary,’ he said in turn. ‘May I guess your question?’
‘It’s not a difficult one. Where are you going?’
‘We’re heading to my sister’s home in Dumfries for Christmas.’ The glance he gave his son was a fond one. ‘Nathan has a chart and assures me we could have been there late this evening, but I wanted to eat here. My turn now: Where are you going?’
She opened her mouth to reply, but there was a knock on the door. ‘Come in.’
His face red from the heat of the kitchen, the innkeep struggled under the load of a massive tray. He was followed by a small boy with a smaller tray.
She looked at the captain, and he was watching her, a smile in his eyes that spread to his whole face as she watched, contradicting everything she had heard about the dour members of the sailing fraternity. Aunt Martha would probably have questioned the propriety, even if he was a Rennie, but Aunt Martha was nowhere in sight.
‘Right here, sir,’ she told the keep. ‘We’ll dine together.’
The keep gave her a puzzled look, as though wondering why there was any question about the man and boy dining with her. Hadn’t the captain already informed her that the keep thought them to be husband and wife? She looked to her new-found cousin to explain the situation, but his eyes were on the food. He would have to speak to the innkeeper later.
She could have closed the door and walked away and her cousin never would have noticed, which amused her. Captain Rennie liked to eat. She could also have stripped off her clothes and he wouldn’t have noticed. She couldn’t help her laughter at the roguish thought.
He looked up and surprised her. ‘Come, come, Cousin Mary,’ he chided. ‘Food has its place in my universe, but not to the exclusion of good company.’ He eyed the sausage with real appreciation, when, with a modest amount of Scottish fanfare, Mr McDonald lifted of the domed lid. ‘Mary, you may have...how many inches of this?’
She looked at the coiled sausage, moist and sweating and
