Marrying Captain Jack

Lucy giggled, for she believed that he was teasing her. Surely he did not imagine that she would receive a proposal of marriage that evening!

The ballroom was crowded as Jack Harcourt entered that night. He was feeling pleased with himself, because he had discovered that Sir Frederick Collingwood was truly a cheat. He might have exposed him the previous evening had he chosen to do so, for the man was clumsy and careless, but he had allowed himself to be cheated of two thousand guineas—a small price to pay for what he had learned. At least the writer of the mystery letter had not lied about that, which meant that the rest of it was quite possibly true.

As the evening progressed, Collingwood had become careless and drunk more than he ought and, from a few unguarded comments, Jack had discovered that his information was correct. David Middleton had gone down heavily to Collingwood that last night—and he had said something about cheating. It was not very much, but it was enough to confirm Jack’s suspicions. He had no proof, but he was almost certain that he knew what had happened. However, he still had no idea what the underlying reason for the quarrel was about. He had asked, but received no answers, though the closed expressions on some of the gentlemen’s faces made him certain that it involved something more than merely gambling—or perhaps someone who had been dear to David?

He had now learned from other sources besides the letter that David had left the gambling club with Collingwood late that night, and that they had been arguing fiercely about something—but what? Collingwood might have become enraged. It was likely that he had produced a pistol and shot David, somehow managing to move his body to that lonely road by the Heath where it was eventually found. Had the author of that mystery letter not decided to write to him, Jack might well have still believed that his death had been at the hands of a highwayman.

Jack was sure in his own mind that the letter he had been sent was genuine, though proving the identity of David’s murderer was another thing entirely. However, he was working on a plan to draw Collingwood into a trap, and for the moment must put his personal concerns aside.

‘Good evening, Harcourt,’ a voice said from behind him. ‘I wasn’t sure whether you were in town or not.’

Jack turned to find himself facing Drew Marlbeck. ‘Yes, I have some business I must sort out before I go down to the country. I am sorry that I have not called on you and Marianne before this, but I have been busy.’

‘Come to dinner next week,’ Drew invited. ‘We are giving a small affair—nothing major. Marianne plans a rout for next month, I believe.’

‘Thank you, I shall,’ Jack said. His eyes travelled round the large room, coming to rest on a striking girl who was surrounded by gentlemen, all of them vying for her favours. He did not know her until she glanced his way, and even then he was not certain. ‘Good lord! Is that Miss Horne?’

‘Yes, she is rather stunning, isn’t she?’ Drew grinned. ‘Marianne and her dressmaker had a great deal to do with the transformation, because her mama still sees her as her little girl—but the beautiful butterfly was always there, waiting to come out of her chrysalis.’

‘She is beautiful,’ Jack said, feeling a catch at his throat as he saw the way Lucy was teasing her admirers. She was still a little shy but it made her all the more charming, and her laughter was intoxicating. ‘I can hardly believe the change.’

‘As I said, Marianne has taken her in hand these past few days. It was just lack of confidence and her clothes, which were too young for her. She is eighteen—a woman, and a very lovely one. The man who captures her heart will be fortunate. Lucy has the sweetest nature, though she can stick up for herself if need be.’

‘I am glad to hear it,’ Jack said. He could hardly take his eyes from Lucy. He had thought her enchanting the last time they met, but now there was something more. Perhaps it was confidence or the clothes, but he certainly found it very appealing. ‘Thank you, Marlbeck. I shall be pleased to dine with you next week. I may even stay in town a little longer than I had planned.’

‘I shall tell Marianne to add you to her list for the rout,’ Drew said, hiding his grin. He had not missed his sister-in-law’s partiality for Harcourt, and he felt it would do very well. He knew of the rumours, of course, but considered it a minor thing. Even if his friend did have a bastard child somewhere, it had happened in the past, and it was often said that reformed rakes made the best husbands. Mrs Horne might not agree, but she could probably be persuaded.

As Drew moved off, Jack progressed slowly through the room. He was stopped several times by friends and acquaintances, because, despite the rumours, his credit was good enough to make him the target of the more ambitious mothers. He had a title and a fortune, and if he had transgressed in the past, that could be forgiven in the right circumstances.

Jack was a little disturbed to see that Sir Frederick Collingwood had joined the little group of admirers around Lucy. He frowned, because it angered him that the man was still at liberty to enter society at will. Collingwood was a cheat, a rake of the worst kind—and, in his mind, a murderer. He would not want Lucy Horne to be caught in his toils! However, he continued to be invited to many society affairs, and until Jack could prove what he suspected, Lucy and other young ladies would be exposed to his company. The sooner he found some way of exposing him, the better!

‘Miss Horne,’ he said, making his way to her side and cutting out several of the young bucks around her. ‘I believe this is our dance.’ He took her hand before Lucy could protest, sweeping her along until they reached the dance floor just as a waltz struck up.

Lucy looked up at him, her eyes wide as she said, ‘I had promised this to Mr Bates, sir. I think you must have made a mistake.’

‘Oh, no, I am quite sure it was promised to me,’ Jack said, his mouth quirking at the corners. ‘If I am wrong, I shall apologise, of course.’

‘I think you have been very wicked to steal another gentleman’s dance, sir.’ Lucy’s eyes sparkled at him. She feigned annoyance, but she could not prevent a little smile tugging at her mouth. ‘However, I shall forgive you, because you dance the waltz divinely.’

‘Thank you, Miss Lucy,’ he said. ‘I believe we are sufficiently acquainted for me to use your first name? After all, I can claim a prior friendship, can I not?’

Lucy shook her head at him. He was not the first gentleman to tease her that evening, and she was discovering that it was amusing to be teased and to tease in return.

‘I am not sure it was friendship, sir, for you left Marlbeck without saying goodbye to me.’

‘That was remiss of me,’ Jack said. ‘However, I shall do my best to make up for it. Will you allow me to take you driving in the park tomorrow afternoon?’

‘I have an appointment for the afternoon,’ Lucy told him. ‘But I shall be pleased to accompany you in the morning—at eleven, if you wish?’

‘Will you not be too tired after an evening such as this?’

‘Not at all,’ Lucy assured him. ‘I like to go out early and it is better to be taken for a drive in town, because I cannot venture out alone and Mama does not rise early.’

‘Then I shall be delighted to call for you at eleven o’clock precisely,’ Jack said, smiling down at her. He looked rueful as the music ended. ‘I think I must return you to your friends—but may I ask if there is another dance available later?’

‘I have only one,’ Lucy told him, ‘and I think I must give that to Mr Bates. It is only fair that he should have it.’

‘Then perhaps you will allow me to take you into supper?’

‘Yes, thank you,’ Lucy said. ‘You are very kind, sir. I shall look forward to your company.’

Lucy was duly returned to her court, where another gentleman immediately claimed her. A smile and the promise of the waltz before supper pacified Mr Bates, and Lucy was led back to the dance floor. Jack Harcourt stood watching for a moment before moving away. Some of the older gentlemen had found themselves a niche in the card room, and it was there that he saw Sir Frederick Collingwood. However, Collingwood shook his head as he lifted an eyebrow.

‘I do not play this evening, Harcourt. However, I shall give you your chance to recover—tomorrow, if you wish?’

‘I have an engagement tomorrow,’ Jack said. ‘Shall we say next Tuesday?’

‘Yes, that will suit me well,’ Collingwood said, a sneer on his lips. ‘What do you think of the latest rage? They are calling her a sylph and an enchantress. She is a pretty little thing—do you think she has much of a fortune?’

‘I think she has something,’ Jack replied, looking grim. ‘But I doubt it would be enough to interest you, Collingwood.’

‘No, I thought not,’ Collingwood said. ‘A pity, because she is a tempting little morsel. I should enjoy gobbling her up—but I dare say she cannot be had without marriage, and I need an heiress of some substance.’

Jack swallowed his anger with difficulty. The idea of Lucy Horne at this devil’s mercy was enough to make his stomach turn, but he could not afford to offend him…yet. Given a free hand, he might have called him out on the spot, but he held his tongue. The time would come…

‘I dare say her mother has other ideas,’ he drawled, a hint of insolence in his voice. ‘You would not stand a chance, my dear fellow.’

‘Neither would you,’ Collingwood retorted, stung by his tone. ‘If what I hear is true, you are not one to call others black.’

‘But is it?’ Jack replied still in that insolent drawl. ‘The trouble with whispers and rumours is that one never knows quite what to believe—and yet sometimes it is as well to heed them.’

He turned away, leaving Collingwood to his contemplation of the gaming. No doubt he was watching in the hope of picking a pigeon ripe for plucking on another occasion. Returning to the ballroom, he stood and watched Lucy dancing for a few minutes, before approaching a widow he knew quite well.

‘Good evening, Lady West,’ he said. ‘How pleasant to see you here. Do you dance?’

‘Why, yes, sir,’ she said and smiled at him. ‘As you see, I am out of mourning and life goes on, does it not?’

‘Yes, indeed,’ he said and offered her his hand. It would not do to let others think that he wished to dance only with Lucy Horne. Especially when someone like Sir Frederick Collingwood was present. He was not sure how he felt about anything just yet and for the moment he would play his cards close to his chest.