Marrying Captain Jack

General Rawlings turned pale. ‘I am not the only one to believe it,’ he blustered. ‘If I have it wrong, I apologise.’

‘Accepted,’ Jack said and turned away. His face was dark with anger as he followed Lucy to the landing stage, where the others were waiting in the boat. He did not look at Lucy as he joined them in the boat. Nor did he speak to anyone as they were rowed back to the shore.

Lucy was painfully aware of his anger, and, knowing nothing of what had caused it, she believed that he was angry with her. He must despise her for being foolish enough to find herself in a difficult position; indeed, she blamed herself, for Jo had warned her.

She felt close to tears, but held her head high. She would not let anyone guess that Lord Harcourt’s disapproval had distressed her so dreadfully.

‘You look very pretty, dearest,’ Mrs Horne said when Lucy emerged from her bedroom on the evening of the ball. ‘Who sent you that charming posy?’

‘It was from Lord Harcourt,’ Lucy replied. ‘It goes so well with my hair band, does it not?’ On receiving the pink roses tied with white ribbons, Lucy had tied her long hair back with a pink-spangled ribbon. She looked fresh and lovely, and very young.

‘That was kind of him,’ Mrs Horne said, smiling at her. She was very proud of her daughter, for she knew that, despite her innocence, Lucy was a sensible girl and would not let something so trivial turn her head. ‘Shall we go down now, Lucy?’ Besides, although she had heard rumours concerning Lord Harcourt, she was not yet disposed to believe them.

‘Yes, Mama.’ Lucy looked at her mother. ‘Did you say that it would be proper for me to dance the waltz, Mama?’

‘Perfectly proper at your sister’s ball,’ Mrs Horne said. ‘But when we go to Almack’s next month, you must wait until you are given permission from one of the hostesses. However, waltzing is perfectly acceptable almost everywhere now, my love.’

Lucy nodded. She had heard her sisters talk of waltzing and had not been quite sure whether it was accepted or not. Her heart beat a little faster as she wondered if Lord Harcourt would ask her to dance. If he should ask her to waltz…but she must not expect it. She was well aware that he saw her as a child and believed that he was attracted to Miss Tremaine, who took every opportunity to monopolise his attention. When the dazzling beauty of Miss Tremaine was on hand, why would he bother with Lucy?

The ballroom was already filling up when Lucy arrived with her mama. Marianne and Drew had been welcoming their guests for the past few minutes, and there were already some twenty couples besides the house-guests who were staying. For a while Mrs Horne moved amongst them, introducing Lucy to people she knew, and meeting others she had not met previously, but after some ten minutes or so the music struck up.

Lucy immediately found herself the centre of attention, and her dance card was soon filled. She danced first with General Rawlings. It was a country dance and Lucy was pleased because it meant that she passed on to other partners. She had already decided that she would not waltz with that particular gentleman if he should ask her.

Lord Harcourt danced the first two sets with Miss Tremaine. He approached Lucy as she returned to her mama’s side, asking for the pleasure of the next dance, which she was unable to offer him.

‘I fear I have nothing left until…the dance before supper,’ she said, looking at him shyly. ‘Perhaps…’

‘I should not have dallied,’ Jack said and looked slightly rueful. ‘Yes, that will do very well, Miss Horne—and I believe it may be a waltz, which will be all the better.’

Lucy’s heart raced. She had hoped that they might waltz together, never dreaming her wish would be granted. However, she could do little more than smile and promise she would keep it for him before she was claimed for the next dance.

Her partners were all kind, generous gentlemen, many of them married and much older than Lucy. However, she did dance with four gentlemen who were more her own age, and they stayed with her for most of the evening, forming a little court about her when she was not dancing and making her laugh. She enjoyed herself more than she had expected, and when Jo asked her if she was having a good time she was able to answer quite truthfully that she was very happy. However, she could not control a flutter of nerves as the supper dance approached, and when Lord Harcourt came towards her, she caught her breath. He was so very handsome, so much more assured and worldly than the young gallants who had kept her company all evening.

‘I believe this is my dance, Miss Horne?’

‘Yes, sir,’ she replied and gave him her hand.

As he took it and led her onto the floor, her heart was beating wildly. She hoped that her emotions did not show on her face, because she would not have liked him to guess that his touch affected her so deeply, making her tremble inside. She lifted her head, an unconscious look of pride in her eyes as the music struck up and he took her into his arms.

Dancing with Jack Harcourt was all that Lucy had dreamed of and more. The feeling that came over her was like nothing she had ever experienced before, excelling all her childhood dreams. She had wondered what it might be like to be held by him, but she could never have imagined the swirling emotions inside her, the heady sensation of dancing on air, or being swept away to a magical place. But this was not the magic of her childhood dreams. Lucy knew instinctively that what she felt for Lord Harcourt was love—the kind of love a woman feels for the man she wishes to be her husband.

For the duration of their dance, she allowed herself to float over the floor in his arms, lost to reality. She had never known passion or lust, never been kissed other than on the cheek by her relatives or friends, but something deep within her was responding to an age-old need that she had never even guessed existed until this moment.

She wished that she could go on dancing with him for ever, wished that this wonderful experience might never end, but all too soon the music was finishing and everyone began to make a move towards the supper room.

‘Perhaps you would like some supper, Miss Horne?’ Jack suggested, but at that moment Lucy’s mama came up to them.

‘Well, my dear, I am glad to see you looking so happy,’ Mrs Horne said. ‘Come along, Lucy. I want you to help me choose my supper from the wonderful buffet Marianne has ordered for us.’

Lucy gave her partner an apologetic look. She would have preferred to take supper with him, but could not refuse her mama’s request. He inclined his head as if to say that he understood, and she turned away, following in her mother’s wake. In the supper room she was invited to sit with a party of young people, and to her surprise her mama indicated that she might do so.

‘Yes, run along, dearest. You do not need to look after me, for Jo will help me.’

Lucy was a little bewildered. Why had her mama insisted that she accompany her, only to release her almost at once? Joining the other young people, Lucy hoped that Lord Harcourt would not be offended. However, a few minutes later, she saw that he was at the buffet with Miss Tremaine. He was laughing in response to something she was saying, and Lucy felt a pang of regret. She would have enjoyed eating her supper with Lord Harcourt.

‘Is something wrong, Miss Horne?’

Lucy turned to the young man sitting beside her. He was fair-haired, about twenty years of age, and attractive.

‘Nothing, thank you, Mr Tristram,’ Lucy said. ‘I was thinking of something, but it is not important.’ She turned her bright eyes on him. ‘Have you enjoyed this evening?’

‘Yes,’ he agreed with a slight flush in his cheeks. ‘More than I expected. These country dances are often boring, you know—but you were here this evening and that made all the difference.’

‘Oh…’ Lucy felt her cheeks grow warm. ‘How kind of you to say so, sir—though I do not see how my presence could make so much difference.’

‘Do you not?’ He grinned at her. ‘No, I suppose not. I dare say you have no idea how beautiful you are.’

‘Beautiful…’ Lucy’s laugh tinkled like fairy bells. ‘Oh, no, you cannot mean that, sir. I have been told that I am pretty, but beautiful…’ Her gaze fell on Miss Tremaine. ‘Now she is beautiful.’

John Tristram’s eyes followed in direction of her gaze and he frowned. ‘She is very striking,’ he agreed. ‘But that kind of beauty is skin deep, for I think she is a little shallow, whereas you—’ He broke off, looking awkward as Lucy’s brow furrowed. ‘I hope I have not offended you, Miss Lucy?’

‘No, of course not,’ Lucy said and wrinkled her nose endearingly. ‘Is she shallow? I think perhaps you are a little critical, Mr Tristram.’

‘Yes, perhaps—and I should not have said it,’ he replied. ‘But in my opinion she cannot hold a candle to you.’

‘Oh…that is kind,’ Lucy said, giving him a radiant smile. ‘I have felt a little awkward in her presence, for she seems so clever…so vibrant.’

‘Yes, she is clever,’ he acknowledged, ‘though sometimes at the expense of others—which I think cruel. You would never be unkind, Miss Lucy.’

The expression in his eyes was little short of adoring, which made Lucy blush and look away. She liked him very well, and his compliments were a boost to her confidence, but she was an honest girl and she knew that she could never feel anything more than friendship for him.

‘Do you hunt, Mr Tristram?’ she asked, because it was a subject that usually turned the gentlemen’s conversation and it did not fail her now. For the next few minutes he regaled her with stories of his hunting experiences, and then the conversation became general.

The company began to drift back to the ballroom. Some of the guests, who had farther to go, had started to take their leave, but others continued to dance, and Lucy was one of them. She was claimed by Drew and then by Hal Beverley, and was one of the last to leave the ballroom. As she went upstairs, she saw that Lord Harcourt and Miss Tremaine had gone out into the conservatory, and her mood of elation was dimmed by the realisation that there was very likely an understanding between them.

Lucy refused to acknowledge the pain in her breast. She would be very silly to break her heart for a man who hardly knew she existed. He had been kind to her, but he thought her still a child. Miss Tremaine was some years older than Lucy, and an heiress. Why should he look at Lucy when Miss Tremaine was clearly so willing to be courted?

Lucy slept very well that night, undisturbed by dreams. Jack Harcourt was not as fortunate. He had accompanied Miss Tremaine to the conservatory to help look for a diamond earring she claimed to have lost, but when it remained elusive he had become aware of the expectant expression in her eyes.

‘I fear I must have lost it elsewhere,’ she said apologetically and looked up at him, her soft lips slightly parted. ‘How foolish of me…’

‘Perhaps it is not lost at all,’ he replied. ‘You may find it in your room later or caught within your clothing.’

‘Oh, do you think so?’ She pulled at the lace about her décolletage. ‘Do you think it can have fallen down here?’

‘I have no idea,’ Jack told her, realising too late that his attentions during the evening had led her to expect a declaration. ‘I think you must ask your mama to look—or search for it yourself in your room. It is not for me to speculate on such matters, Miss Tremaine.’

‘I would not ask any gentleman,’ she said huskily and looked at him with a clear invitation in her eyes. ‘But you…It would not offend me—’