The Officer's Temptation | A Regency Romance

Chapter Eight: The Shape of a Name

"I would chide you for being late this morning, but you're looking rather green, Lieutenant. You needn't have met me if you were feeling ill. I am not such a harsh mistress as that." The fountain behind her splashed pleasantly as the water surged and fell back into its basin. The soft rushing sound almost drowned the droning pain in his head. Miss Jennings watched him appraisingly from her perch on its stone lip. A straw bonnet shaded her face and a tablet was balanced on her lap.

He lowered himself beside her and took out his own tablet and paper. The morning sun glared against the white page. He squinted, wishing for nightfall to hurry. He wanted to go back to bed, though he had woken up early. "I'm not ill."

Her eyebrow quirked. "Lieutenant, I mean no offense, but...."

He made a smudgy mark on his page with his pencil. "Let me clarify. I am not ill, but perhaps I am unwell. I believe I may have been rather intoxicated last night."

Kate's eyebrows lifted, but she did not look up from her page. Her pencil made a soft scratching sound. "You believe? You are not certain?"

Marlowe peeked over the edge of his tablet at hers, which was quickly filling up with an impressive sketch of the plaza. He was amazed at the power of just a few lines to so clearly communicate the essence of a place. "I would not expect such a gentle lady such as yourself to know this, but when one imbibes liquor in extreme excess, one's memory tends to fade around the edges."

She made a snorting sound. "Oh Lieutenant, how naive you are! Do you suppose that I have never found myself intoxicated before?"

He glanced sharply at her. The motion made him feel nauseated, but he smiled at the devious expression on her face, shadowed as it was under her bonnet. He wished for a moment that he might have his own bonnet to block out the appalling glare of the sun, though he supposed he would look a fool. The brim of his own hat was too stylish to be of much use. "Is that so?"

She colored prettily. "Well, not often, of course. Maman insists that I water down my glasses of wine if I have more than one or two."

"She's quite wise, your mother. If only I had her guidance last night." His stomach did an unseemly flip flop at just the thought of wine. At the thought of what he had done after the wine, well, his stomach positively roiled. 

He looked across the plaza at the building he had decided to draw and sighed, dragging his pencil across the page. The line looked wrong. He rolled the pencil in his hands and tried again. "So how did you happen to become intoxicated then, my dear Miss Jennings?"

She suppressed a grin. "Once, when I was thirteen, my mother vexed me thoroughly one afternoon--I had asked her to have a new summer dress made up, you see, for there was going to be a grand picnic with all of the young ladies, and I had ruined my best dress only days before by spilling a pot of ink on the skirt. When she told me that I was too clumsy to have a new dress made up that I would only destroy, and that my second-best would have to do, I knew that I must have my vengeance. I was a regular fury at that age, you must believe."

He snorted. "I believe it."

"Oh Lieutenant, you must at least pretend to protest and tell me that you think I must have always been a well-mannered girl!"

"I beg your indulgence, dear lady. My mind is addled from the drinking."

"Proper young men do not brag about their vices, Lieutenant, but with your permission, I shall carry on in my tale."

He waved his hand. "Pray do."

"Maman was having quite a little party that evening, and had just got ahold of some sort of costly peach brandy that she was planning on serving to the ladies after dinner. I knew that it was a point of pride to her, so I resolved to throw the whole thing out. Only when I went to dump the bottle, it smelled so nice and peachy... and mother and father had never allowed me to drink brandy before. Well, I trust you of all my acquaintances to know how alluring forbidden fruit may be.  I thus resolved to try it for myself. It was quite sweet, and though I did not quite like it, I pretended that I did and brought the bottle to my two bosom friends who were visiting for the fortnight. Oh, we had quite the afternoon! We drank the whole bottle in the attic, laughing and giggling... Until we were sick, of course. Violently ill. But before the vomiting, oh forgive me ladies shouldn't speak of vomiting, but before the vomiting, I believe it was one of the most entertaining afternoons of my life. I say 'believe,' not 'know,' for even now, that afternoon is a bit of a blur. And I have no memory at all of the evening!" Her eyes crinkled in the corners with her laughter. "Maman says that I tumbled into the parlour of her friends while laughing like a demon before vomiting on someone's shoe and then passing out on the floor!"