The Captain's Christmas Family by Deborah Hale

looking rather severe. At first Marian feared he was vexed with them for being tardy. But a second look made her wonder if he might only be nervous. Recalling what he’d said about not wanting to be stared at and whispered about, she hoped the people at church would treat the captain with more Christian charity than she’d first shown him.
    “Good morning, sir.” She offered him an encouraging smile and was gratified when his expression relaxed a little. “The girls and I are very pleased to have you join us this morning.”
    “Indeed.” He glanced from solemn-faced Cissy to her grinning little sister with a flicker of mild alarm in his gray eyes. “The carriage is waiting.”
    Opening the great front door, he held it for Marian to usher her pupils outside.
    The grounds of Knightley Park glittered with frost on this crisp, sunny November morning as the girlsclimbed into the carriage. When Marian followed them, her stomach sank abruptly.
    She found Cissy and Dolly perched side by side in the carriage box, leaving the opposite seat empty. If Marian sat there, Captain Radcliffe would be obliged to sit beside her. The thought of being so close to him set her insides aflutter.
    “Girls, budge up, please.” She tried to squeeze in beside them.
    “You’re squashing me!” Dolly protested. “Why can’t you sit over there?”
    “Hush!” Marian whispered. “Cissy, will you kindly move to the other seat?”
    The child’s eyes widened. She shook her head.
    “Then, I will,” said Dolly.
    Before Marian could prevent her, the child wriggled out from between her and Cissy and bounced over to the opposite seat just as Captain Radcliffe climbed into the carriage. “It’s better than being squashed.”
    The captain settled next to Dolly, with an air of reluctance similar to the one Cissy had displayed when asked to sit beside him.
    One of the footmen closed the door behind them. Then, with a rattle, a lurch and the clatter of horses’ hooves, they were on their way.
    Silence settled inside of the carriage box, as brittle as the thin sheet of ice on the surface of Knightley Park’s ornamental lake. Marian searched for something to say that might thaw it.
    Before she could think of a suitable topic of conversation, Dolly turned toward the captain. “How do you go to church when you’re on your ship?”
    “Dolly…” Marian addressed the child in a warning tone. Though Captain Radcliffe might not be the sort of seagoing tyrant she had mistakenly believed him, he probably expected the younger members of his crew to speak only when spoken to.
    At first he appeared taken aback by the child’s forthright curiosity. But after a moment’s consideration he seemed to decide he might do worse than answer her question. “At sea it is not possible to go to a church building, as we are doing now. But most ships in the Royal Navy have chaplains who conduct Sunday services on deck when the weather permits or in the wardroom when it does not.”
    “What’s a wardroom?”
    A sterner warning rose to Marian’s lips, but before she could utter it, the captain replied, “That is what we call the officers’ mess on a ship, a sort of dining room and drawing room combined.”
    Dolly digested all this new information with a look of intense concentration that Marian wished she would apply to her studies. “Your ship must be a great deal bigger than the boat we row on the lake. How many rooms does it have?”
    By now Marian thought better of trying to restrain the child, for Dolly had clearly discovered one subject certain to set the captain at ease. To his credit, he did not seem to mind being bombarded with questions about all matters nautical. Marian was also favorably impressed with his answers, which were couched in simple enough terms for the children to understand without insulting their intelligence.
    His discourse proved so informative that Marianfound herself listening with rapt attention. It was not only what he said that