The Admiral's Daughter by Judith Harkness Page A

in the tale that she could have ignored the cold without any discomfort. She was shocked by this picture of her cousin, for though she might formerly have suspected him of egotism, of a pride born out of wealth and rank and a love of his own importance, she had not thought of crediting him with so much hardness of heart as this story showed him to possess. The tale brought up in her mind a most pathetic picture, and being of a warm nature herself, she could not help but cry out inwardly against the injustice it displayed.
    â€œWhy did he marry her, then?” she cried eagerly, when they had found a place in a sheltered corner of the yard, away from stamping horses and yelling black-stockings.
    Captain Morrison shrugged. “Who knows what moves men to do half of what they do? We are a strange lot. I suppose in part he was stunned by her beauty—as nearly everyone was—and then, too, perhaps there was really some part of the collector’s spirit in him. Anna—the lady’s name—was coveted by every man with half a heart in London. She came to England, you know, from the West Indies, where her father owned half the fertile lands in the territory. She had an immense fortune, and was as sweet and unassuming as you please.”
    Maggie could not resist inquiring, with a smile, if Captain Morrison had not been in love with her himself, but the question, which had been meant in a lighthearted kind of way, was met with a sudden frown.
    â€œI loved her, it is true,” he replied instantly, “but not in that fashion. I met her when she dearly needed friends, and I was to her a kind of brother. At least—” and here the Captain paused—“so long as I was able to see her. Your cousin could not bear her having any friends beside himself, and though he so rarely availed himself of her company, he detested the notion that anyone else should enjoy it!”
    Morrison had spoken with an intensity altogether unlike his former manner. He seemed to have forgotten himself, and for a moment, Maggie saw a dark look come into his eyes. But as quickly as the mood came, it passed, and the officer, seeming to remember himself, smiled quickly, and turned the conversation to other matters. He appeared reluctant to continue in the vein, and Maggie would not force him to, although her curiosity was now at such a peak that it took all her self-control to keep from questioning him further. For a few moments they talked of London, and Maggie was soon caught up in her companion’s descriptions of life in Town. His interests were so entirely her own, their tastes and affinities so similar, that she was more and more hopeful of a continuance of their friendship. Suddenly the prospect of a visit to the capital became attractive. If she was destined to be confined chiefly to the society of her haughty cousins, the promise of one friend who shared her own attitudes made the picture a little brighter. Her pleasure was very great, therefore, when, upon being informed that her carriage was ready, and when she had been handed into the luxurious equipage with her maid and the satin pillows disposed behind her shoulders by an attentive male servant, the Captain leaned in at the window and said, “I hope I may count upon seeing you in London?”
    Nothing could have suited her better, and Maggie replied she would be glad of receiving him at any time. But at these words Captain Morrison looked doubtful.
    â€œI think I shall not wait upon you, Miss Trevor, if you are to be with your cousin. He dislikes me so much for having been a favorite of his wife’s that he would be enraged to hear I was acquainted with his cousin. However, if you are to be at Almack’s, I shall certainly see you, and if you allow it, I shall claim the pleasure of your very first set of country dances.”
    So it was agreed, with a deep, interested look on the face of one, and a pleasurable flush on the cheeks of the other, that