The Captain's Christmas Family. Deborah Hale
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as his original invitation. She glanced from him to the footman and back again. “Very well then, Captain, if that is what you wish.”
At a nod from Gideon, the footman pulled out a chair for Miss Murray, to the right of his place at the head of the table.
“Only a very small helping for me, please,” she murmured as she slipped into the chair.
Acknowledging her request with a mute nod, the footman headed off to the kitchen.
“Now then,” said Gideon. “What was this matter you wished to discuss with me?”
Miss Murray inhaled a deep breath and squared her shoulders. “Well, sir, tomorrow is Sunday, and I hoped you might accompany the girls and me to church in the village.”
Gideon’s eyebrows rose. “In light of what you know about my attitudes toward children and religion, that strikes me as a rather improbable hope, Miss Murray. I doubt the Creator of the Universe cares whether or not I attend services.”
“That is not why I go to church!” The words burst out of her. “I go for my own sake, to…nourish…my soul.”
She pushed back her chair and started to rise. “I suppose you think that is all rubbish, too.”
Before Gideon had time to consider what he was doing, his hand seemed to move of its own accord and come to rest upon one of hers. “On the contrary, Miss Murray. Just because our beliefs differ does not mean I scoff at yours. I hope you will accord mine the same respect.”
Her hand felt cool and delicate beneath his, calling forth feelings of warmth and protectiveness Gideon hadn’t realized he possessed. But once discretion caught up with him, he knew he must not prolong such contact between them. The sound of the young footman’s returning steps spurred him to withdraw his hand, leaving Miss Murray free to go or stay as she wished.
To his surprise, she stayed, dropping back into her chair and pulling her hands off the table to rest upon her lap. Gideon wondered if it was only the footman’s return that had kept her from rushing away.
An awkward silence fell between them as the servant entered and placed a saucer of pudding in front of Miss Murray.
“Will there be anything else, sir?” he asked.
Gideon shook his head. “That will be all, thank you. You may go.”
He didn’t care to have his views on spiritual matters aired before the servants to fuel more gossip about him.
As the young footman withdrew, Miss Murray took a spoonful of custard from the dainty china bowl between them and dribbled it over her plum duff. In perfect unison, she and Gideon each took a bite.
“A sailor’s pudding is that,” he observed. “Though Mrs. Wheaton’s is far superior to any I ever tasted while at sea.”
If he’d hoped to draw Miss Murray into a conversation about food that would make her forget her original request, he was soon disappointed. “Let me assure you, Captain, I did not ask you to accompany us to church as a means of…converting you, but for the children’s sake.”
Gideon took another bite of pudding and chewed on it thoughtfully. What on earth did it matter to his young cousins how, or if, he observed the Sabbath?
Miss Murray seemed to sense his unasked question. “For Dolly’s sake, actually. She has begun to balk at going to church. I know it can be a long while for a child her age to sit still, but I believe it is important for children to be raised in faith. Otherwise they’re like ships without anchors.”
The nautical comparison appealed to Gideon. “I agree. If nothing else, it is a sound foundation for their moral development. But what does that have to do with me?”
Miss Murray sighed. “Dolly says it isn’t fair that she must to go to church when you do not. I didn’t know what to tell her, Captain.”
It was a valid point, Gideon reluctantly acknowledged. He was not certain how he would respond to the child’s argument. “The matter of my beliefs aside, I cannot say I am eager to venture out in public. I know very well the sort of gossip that must be circulating about me. I have no desire to be gawked at and whispered about.”
Miss Murray worried down another mouthful of pudding as if it were as tough as whale hide rather than a rich, moist confection that fairly melted on the tongue. “I understand your reluctance. But surely church is one place where you are less apt to be judged unfairly.”
“It should be.” Gideon placed skeptical emphasis on that middle word. “But can you assure me this particular church will be?”
She could not disguise her doubt. “I wish I could promise that, sir. But how can I expect others to behave more charitably toward you than I have? All I can say with confidence is that I believe once the local people meet you for themselves, they will be far less disposed to believe any false rumors about you.”
It was hardly a ringing endorsement, but Gideon appreciated her honesty. Though accompanying his young cousins to church went against his original bargain with their governess, he found it difficult to resist her appealing gaze.
Miss Murray seemed to sense his indecision. “If people see you going about your business openly, they’ll realize you have nothing to hide.”
That was true, Gideon had to admit. He wondered if his reclusiveness had fostered any mistrust the local people might have had of him. He could not let that continue. Besides, he felt responsible to set a good example for the children. At least that was one of their needs he was capable of meeting.
Having consumed the last morsel of pudding, he set down his spoon and carefully wiped his mouth with his napkin. “Very well, Miss Murray, I accept your invitation. You may tell Miss Dolly she will not be able to use me as an excuse to shirk attendance at church.”
Gideon hoped this was not another decision he would come to regret.
“Thank you, Captain!” The governess surged out of her chair and dropped a curtsy. “I am very grateful for your assistance.”
The smile that illuminated her features lent them an air of unexpected beauty. It sent a rush of happiness through Gideon unlike any he’d felt in a great while.
“There you go, Dolly.” Marian smiled to herself as she tied on the child’s bonnet the next morning. “Now please try not to get mussed up before church.”
Since last evening, she had been more indulgent than usual with her headstrong little pupil. After all, it had been Dolly’s complaints about going to church that had inspired her to invite Captain Radcliffe to join them. Stumbling upon such a fine way to bring him and the girls together had given her hope that God might endorse her plan to have the captain seek guardianship of Cissy and Dolly.
Now if only she could get her pupils to play their parts properly.
“I trust you will be polite to the captain this morning.” She looked Cissy over and gave a nod of approval at her appearance. The ribbons on her straw bonnet matched the green velvet spencer she wore over her white muslin dress. The color looked well with her rich brown hair. “Remember, it is not his fault we were confined to the nursery this past while. It was mine for misunderstanding and rushing to judgment.”
“I promise I will remember my manners, Miss Marian,” the child replied demurely. Yet a subtle stiffness in her bearing suggested her behavior would be correct but not cordial.
Perhaps when Cissy got to know Captain Radcliffe a little better, that coolness would thaw. Marian hoped so.
“And you, Dolly.” She heaved an exasperated sigh when she turned to find the younger girl kneeling on the floor to recover her sixpence offering that had somehow rolled under the bed. “Please try not to be too forward. Otherwise, Captain Radcliffe may not want to come to church with us again.”
Clutching the tiny silver coin between her fingers, Dolly scrambled to her feet. “Why not?”