As Artemis dug into his cornmeal pudding, his dark eyes almost twinkled. Dinah imagined he was thinking of ways to turn this night to his political advantage, for that was his practice with every situation. She must brace herself for whatever he might do.
“Hmm.” Artemis stared at Anne with a stern expression. “Mrs. Hussey, are you certain chicken is the best we can serve? Is there no beef or lamb to roast? Have you spoken to the butcher about a bargain on a good cut of meat? And what of dessert?” He tapped his chin thoughtfully. “And do have Cook clean up those chicken feathers. What will Moberly think if my yard is strewn with trash?” He turned his stare toward Dinah. “Miss Templeton, this afternoon you must run across the backyard to the Ethertons’ house and hire their eldest daughter to help Cook serve supper tonight.” He stood and tugged at his lapels. “I’ll not have the earl’s son think we cannot afford to serve him properly.” He stepped away from the table and stopped by the door, his lean form casting a thin shadow on the tabby floor. “And make certain the girl wears a clean apron.”
“Yes, Artemis.” From his authoritative tone, Dinah understood that Thomas was no longer her guest, but Artemis’s. Whatever hopes she’d had for becoming better acquainted with her kinsman and exchanging news about their shared family must now be abandoned in favor of this disagreeable man. Dinah felt her annoyance dispel. Surely there would be ample opportunity to befriend Thomas. She must not become reliant on him, she knew, but for the moment it comforted her to have a kinsman nearby. Oh, she was looking forward to supper!
Chapter Three
“A very fine meal, Mrs. Hussey. I have never tasted anything quite so delicious. Rosemary is the perfect herb to enhance the flavor of roasted chicken.” Thomas pressed his napkin to his lips and sent Anne a pleasant nod. “Your hospitality warms this seafarer’s heart, just as your table delights my palate.”
Dinah’s roasted corn turned dry in her mouth while an ache settled in her stomach. Of course the captain’s compliments to Anne were appropriate. As the married woman of the house, she deserved his honor and gratitude. But still it stung Dinah’s feelings not to receive a little credit for arranging this evening and the menu. Never before had she felt like such a spinster, an old maid, a redundant woman in the house she paid to live in.
“Thou are most welcome, Captain Moberly.” Anne smiled with all the humble graciousness of their Quaker upbringing. “But thy compliments should go to Dinah.” She signaled to the serving girl to remove their plates and bring dessert. “We are so pleased that she chanced to meet thee and invited thee to supper. Are we not, Mr. Hussey?”
Dinah hid a smile. She should have known Anne would not accept praise without sharing it. Her friend always turned attention away from herself and gave credit to others.
“Indeed, we are, Mrs. Hussey.” Seated at the head of the table, Artemis was a different man this evening, all affability and manners. He turned to Thomas, who sat on his left. “And so pleased for her kinship to you and to us.”
The captain nodded his appreciation of the cream-covered peach pie the maid set before him. “Ah, Miss Templeton, I did not know of your kinship to Mr. and Mrs. Hussey.” He gazed across the table at her, and a pleasant feeling warmed Dinah’s heart. Thomas was more than easy to look at and, for a naval captain, not the least bit intimidating. “You must tell me more about your family.”
“Well,” Artemis said, “it’s not as if we’re blood relations—”
The captain slid his attention to Artemis briefly. “But I should like to hear Miss Templeton recount the connection.”
Artemis coughed into his napkin. “Yes, of course. Miss Templeton, do proceed.”
With great difficulty, Dinah withheld a laugh over the captain’s gentle rebuke to Artemis. After all, this was not exactly a jolly tale she’d been asked to relate.
“Both Anne and I were orphaned, she first, and then I. Two dear spinster sisters, daughters of a whaling captain, took us in and reared us. And thus we consider ourselves foster sisters.” She sent a fond look to Anne. “I know her far better than I know my own brother, who was absent nearly all of my childhood.”
Memories flooded her with sadness. “Aunt Matilda and Aunt Eunice, as we called them, died when a fever struck Nantucket, and by that time Anne and Artemis had married.” She drew in a deep breath to still the sorrow that tried to close her throat. “I was left alone.” Indeed, she had felt alone all her life, abandoned by all, even God, despite the tender care of the Gardiner sisters. They had never known quite what to do with her excessive energy, while Anne had been all quiet compliance to their Quaker ways.
The captain leaned forward. “I grieve that my question has distressed you, dear lady.” The light from the candle centerpiece reflected in his blue eyes and deepened his compassionate frown. “You need not go on.”
“Not at all.” She forced a smile and dug into her pie, determined to enjoy its sweet flavor. After a moment, she continued. “It’s not as if we were the only people to suffer in this life.” Jamie once told her Thomas’s wife and son had died a few years ago. To fully regain her composure, she swallowed another bite of pie before going on. The gentleness in the captain’s countenance invited her confidence and stirred within her a deeper, fonder sentiment toward this good man.
“When that dreadful rebellion began in Boston, most Nantucketers took a neutral position on the growing war due to their Quaker convictions. But a few foolish young men who…well…they—”
“They tarred and feathered several Loyalists.” Artemis sniffed with indignation. “Had we not left, I cannot imagine what they might have done to me.”
The captain kept his attention on Dinah, and the intensity of his gaze sent a wave of encouragement through her. He truly wanted to hear this story from her. “If Anne and Artemis had not permitted me to come to St. Augustine with them, I’ve no idea what I would have done.” She would not mention her cousins in Boston who supported the rebels’ cause. Her break with them had been the worst of all cuts to her heart. At least her brother had forsaken his interest in the rebellion and now dedicated himself to his import business, avoiding the war altogether.
“It would seem to me,” the captain said, “that Nova Scotia or Newfoundland would have been a wiser choice, being closer to Nantucket. Why did you three not remove to one of those loyal English colonies?”
As much as Dinah enjoyed his kind attention, she felt compelled to look to Artemis for an answer. He had made the decision for them all, while her choices had been few: stay on the island of her birth and be shunned or even starved, take refuge with her rebel cousins in Boston or come to East Florida. “Artemis, perhaps you might enlighten Captain Moberly.”
Artemis’s eyes brightened, and he took a sip from his water goblet. “Well, you see, Captain, East Florida holds many more opportunities for advancement than those northernmost colonies, which already had established societies.” Tugging at his ruffled cravat, he grew more animated as he warmed to his topic. “When the Crown obtained East Florida from the Spanish in ’63, it provided great opportunities for a man with any degree of ambition.”
“So you had no plans to return to Nantucket?” Thomas lifted his chin. “Did you not think we would quickly defeat the insurgents and have order restored?”
Dinah thought she detected a hint of humor in his voice, although she could not imagine why. After five years, the war continued on, and the rebels seemed to grow stronger and more determined with each passing season.
As
