Page 88 of The Captain Claims His Temptress

Stephen settled into a chair, downed a cup of tea, and devoured three beef, cheese, and tomato sandwiches as Madalene flipped to a page, read, and then wrote.

“Finished,” she announced at length. She carried the pages to the large, grinning man.

“In that part of the western division of this kingdom which is commonly called Somersetshire, there lately lived, and perhaps lives still, a gentleman whose name was Allworthy…” the prince read. “Brilliant. Just brilliant. I had no idea there was such genius in this world. Thank you for obliging my request, Mrs. Spencer. What can I do in return for you?” He sat forward in his chair. “Whatever you wish.”

Without hesitation, Madalene said, “I have no need for anything, sir. Please grant my wish to Captain Eaton.”

Stephen’s jaw dropped.

The prince tilted his head from side to side. “Why not? Do you have something you wish for, Captain Eaton?”

Oh, did he ever, and the request spilled out as if he’d prepared for the moment. “Sir, men who have fought for the Crown experience such hardships after they return from battle. There are old men who fought in the Americas who can barely afford to eat. There are soldiers, some even young lads, who have returned from Waterloo suffering attacks of panic and nightmares. There are war widows who resort to borderline prostitution with no other avenues left to them. I want to set up both an aid society and an institution to help these men and women. I believe art, music, job training, financial assistance, medical care, and meditation may provide solutions.”

While the prince shifted his bulk in his chair, the Duke of Astleyshire blinked at Stephen a half-dozen times before grinning. “I think it is a brilliant idea.”

“As do I, as do I,” the prince said. “Write a proposal, Captain Eaton, and we shall meet one week from today to find the funding and put your ideas into motion. I hope you will agree to oversee the running of it. I dare say, I am most interested in these art and music therapies.”

The next few hours were a blur. ’Twas as if Stephen watched from far above his body as he and Madalene said their goodbyes and rode Stormy back to Sir Saxton’s. Madalene’s aunt and uncle received them with open arms, and there were numerous apologies from Saxton.

“Madalene, please forgive me. Your aunt and I love you like a daughter and are so happy you are here. I am sorry if I made you feel as though your presence here was for anything other than our desire to spend time with you. You always have a home with us,” Saxton said in a half-dozen ways.

He clapped Stephen on the back. “Captain Eaton, you have my utmost respect. I humbly ask for your forgiveness.”

Stephen pumped his hand enthusiastically, accepting the apology and making one of his own. “I am sorry for all of the drama that was created. Your business ideas are sound and deserve to be heard without the nonsense that you endured.”

Hugo Adams’s shoulders hung in defeat when he offered his sentiments. Hard-pressed to forgive the solicitor, Stephen shook his hand and played nice for everyone’s sake.

It wasn’t until he and Madalene were seated in the garden, and she took his hand in hers that Stephen settled into the here and now.

“Stephen, are you well?” she asked.

He was brilliantly, absurdly, wonderful, and there was no time like the present. He squeezed her hand. “Madalene Spencer, will you be my wife?”

She squealed with delight and kissed him a half-dozen times. “Yes! Yes! Yes!”

He chuckled. “You realize you will have to deal with my siblings and our ward…and my grandmother.”

“And you must deal with my aunt and uncle. Wait until you meet my parents. My mother is sweet, but my father…” She blanched.

“Your uncle was a difficult sell, but he seems to have come around,” Then Stephen laughed until a tear dripped from his eye. “But he has nothing on the Dowager Countess, Lady Louisa Eaton.”

Epilogue

November 15th, 1817

Stephenandhissiblingsstood with the dowager countess, Lady Louisa Eaton, as she fanned herself and surveyed her kingdom—the Trent Castle ballroom. She pointed the tip of her fan at his bride, surrounded by family and friends.

“Madalene is simply lovely. I find her quite agreeable, and her full hips will carry strong Eatons,” Grandmother said.

Stephen swallowed. Those Rubenesque hips had many other perks that he dared not mention in polite company. And never had he seen a more stunning vision. The crystal beads in her cream gown shimmered as if she was encrusted in diamonds, and the hem of her skirts gracefully swished about her ankles with her tantalizing sway.

“Grandmother, women are more than baby birthers,” Georgie said.

“Yes. They are also good for milking dairy cows,” Evan declared, a smart-arse twinkle in his eye.

Georgie wound up and walloped their younger brother on the shoulder.

“Ouch!” He grunted and dramatically rubbed where her fist made contact.