At the Captain's Command. Louise M. Gouge
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Dinah started to remind Captain Moberly of her vow not to marry a seafarer, but somehow the words would not form.
He gazed about the room. “You have your choice between Mr. Richland Senior or Junior.”
Dinah bit her lips to keep from giggling. “Captain, I order you to cease matchmaking for me.” A playful thought nudged Dinah’s mind. “That is, unless I am permitted to serve the same office for you.”
He gave her a slight bow. “Fair enough. Make your selection and present me to the lady.”
She stared around the room, seeking a likely candidate. “Hmm. Well. How about…no, not her. And then there’s…but no, she would not suit.” She released a dramatic sigh. “I fear not a single match can be found for you in our city, sir.”
Kindness would not permit her to tease about pairing him with any of her acquaintances. Kindness? Or perhaps something far more selfish?
LOUISE M. GOUGE
has been married to her husband, David, for forty-six years. They have four children and six grandchildren. Louise always had an active imagination, thinking up stories for her friends, classmates and family, but seldom writing them down. At a friend’s insistence, in 1984 she finally began to type up her latest idea. Before trying to find a publisher, Louise returned to college, earning a B.A. in English/creative writing and a master’s degree in liberal studies. She reworked the novel based on what she had learned and sold it to a major Christian publisher. Louise then worked in television marketing for a short time before becoming a college English/humanities instructor. She has had ten novels published, five of which have earned multiple awards, including the 2006 Inspirational Readers’ Choice Award. Please visit her website at www.louisemgouge.com.
At the Captain’s Command
Louise M. Gouge
MILLS & BOON
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I will receive you and will be a Father unto you,
and ye shall be my sons and daughters,
saith the Lord Almighty.
—II Corinthians 6:17b–18
This book is dedicated
to my beloved husband, David,
who has stood by my side through my entire
writing career, encouraging me, helping me with
research, reading my raw manuscripts and giving me
the gentlest of corrections. Oh, and best of all,
he gives me the male perspective and insights a
woman sometimes can’t quite grasp. He also gives
me the benefit of his military experience in the
U.S. Army, during which he served in the
101st Airborne in Vietnam. Every March 11,
I thank God for bringing David safely home to me.
Acknowledgments:
In addition, I want to thank
my amazing critique partners for their
wonderful suggestions and research tips:
DiAnn Mills, Ramona Cecil, MaryLu Tyndall
and Laurie Alice Eakes, all gifted authors
in their own rights.
Finally, I’d like to thank my insightful editor,
Melissa Endlich, who sets the bar high for
writing excellence. I’m proud to be writing for you.
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Epilogue
Letter to Reader
Questions for Discussion
Chapter One
May 1780
St. Augustine, East Florida Colony
The instant Dinah saw the three naval officers, she ducked into the mercantile and hid among the stacks of goods. To her relief, the men, grandly uniformed in indigo wool, gold braid and black bicorne hats, continued up St. George Street. Yet she could not help but notice the well-formed profile of the captain among them. A strong jaw. High cheekbones. Jet-black hair tied back in a queue. She wondered what color his eyes were.
What was she thinking? She quickly turned her attention to a display of awls and knives laid out on a shelf.
“How may I help you, Miss Templeton?” The rotund, middle-aged proprietor approached her, admiration gleaming in his dark eyes. “Some silk for a new gown, perhaps? My latest shipment of lace has arrived and—”
“No, thank you.” Dinah lifted her basket of lavender flowers from her arm and held it like a shield as the widower moved closer. Coming in here had been a mistake. “I do not require anything.” Tension tightening in her chest, she hurried toward the door.
He reached it first, and his eyebrows arched. “I have tea from China and…”
Dinah drew herself up to her full height and lifted her chin. “Please allow me to pass, Mr. Waterston.”
He mirrored her posture, although his shorter height