Marrying Captain Jack

She had thoroughly enjoyed the sensation of being fussed over, until she had seen Lord Harcourt watching her with what she felt was disapproval in his eyes. However, he had said nothing and somehow the suggestion of boating on the lake and a picnic on the island had come up, which everyone had thought a good idea. By the time Marianne entered the room, it had all but been arranged.

‘Yes, that is a lovely idea,’ Marianne said when it was suggested to her. ‘The island isn’t large, but because of all the trees and the temple, it is nice to walk there on a hot afternoon. I shall have a picnic prepared. We will have that by the lake, but the boats will be available for anyone who wishes to visit.’

‘Oh, how lovely,’ Lucy said, her face lighting up with pleasure. ‘I have been wanting to explore ever since we came here, Marianne.’

‘You should have said, dearest,’ Marianne told her. ‘Drew would have been delighted to take you there. The lake was unremarkable until we took up residence here, you know. He had it enlarged and the island created and it has made all the difference.’

‘May I be one of your party, Miss Lucy?’ General Rawlings asked, smiling at her. ‘I should like to explore the island in your company, m’dear.’

‘Yes, of course,’ Lucy replied, for he had been very kind to her during her stay here. ‘But I expect everyone will want to see it.’

‘It is an enchanted place,’ Jack said, surprising her and himself. ‘I dare say there may be a sleeping prince to discover—or perhaps elves and witches.’

Lucy looked at him in surprise, thinking that he must be mocking her, but she discovered that he had a look of mischief in his eyes. Her heart started to race wildly, for in that moment he had become the man she had loved since they first met.

‘You would not be the first to think that,’ Marianne told him, joining in the laughter. ‘We hold treasure hunts there at Easter for the estate children, and it is surprising what tales they tell.’

After that, the conversation had turned to estate matters, and the problems associated with educating the children of labourers. Marianne had recently set up a school for the children of parents who could not afford to pay, and she liked to visit now and then to see how they were getting on with their teacher. Lucy listened quietly, unaware that Lord Harcourt’s gaze dwelled on her face for some minutes before he got up and excused himself to the company.

Lucy stayed on for a while, excusing herself only after her mama had joined the company, whispering in her ear that Jo was feeling a little unwell and staying in bed until later. She had asked if her young sister would visit her in her bedchamber, and Lucy was very willing to oblige her.

She tapped at her sister’s door, entering after she was invited to find Jo sitting up against a pile of silken pillows, a breakfast tray almost untouched on the table beside her, and some letters lying unopened on the bed.

‘Do you feel very poorly, dearest?’ Lucy asked, dismayed to see Jo looking pale.

‘It is just a little morning sickness,’ Jo told her. ‘I could not face my breakfast and Hal insisted that I stay in bed until noon. I do not wish to disoblige him for I know that my child is important to both Hal and Lord Beverley.’

‘Will Hal mind if the child is not a boy, Jo?’

‘He says that he does not care either way, as long as I am well—but I know that Lord Beverley longs for an heir and I hope that I shall have a son. Marianne’s little girl is beautiful, and I should like a girl one day—but Lord Beverley’s health is precarious, and he already has a granddaughter.’

‘Yes, I know.’ Lucy said and smiled. ‘Lord Beverley dotes on Ellen and little Mattie, but he must hope that you and Hal will give him grandsons.’

‘He pretends not to mind, as long as I am well, but I know he hopes that my first-born will be a boy,’ Jo said and patted the bed for her sister to join her. ‘I do not mind, because I want to have several children.’

‘I expect you will,’ Lucy said, because she knew that her strong-minded sister usually achieved what she wanted in the end. ‘We are going on the lake this afternoon, and I want to explore the island. Shall you come with us?’

‘I think I shall stay on shore, but I shall watch you all from a comfortable chair,’ Jo said and smiled at her. ‘You may have my biscuits if you wish, Lucy.’

Lucy laughed softly, remembering the times she had stolen her sister’s breakfast when they were all at home. ‘Thank you, dearest Jo, but I couldn’t eat another thing. I had breakfast downstairs today and General Rawlings gave me far too much, but I ate as much as I could, because I did not wish to appear ungrateful.’

‘General Rawlings?’ Jo frowned, because, although he was a pleasant man, he was much older than her sister and she knew that he was looking for a wife, having buried his second wife some nine months earlier. ‘Be a little careful, dearest. He is much too old for you—and he has five children by his first two wives.’

Lucy shot her a look of pure astonishment. ‘Oh, Jo, you do not think…?’ She went off into a peal of delighted laughter. ‘Poor General Rawlings! I am sure he has no such idea. He would not want to marry me. I am far too young for him.’

‘Some gentlemen like very young ladies,’ Jo warned her. ‘Be careful not to get caught in a compromising situation with him, Lucy. I do not think he would make you happy—and you do not wish to cast a shadow over your reputation.’ Jo’s cheeks were slightly pink. ‘I know that I behaved a little recklessly when I ran off with Hal and Ellen, but it was different for me.’

‘Yes, because you were in love with him,’ Lucy agreed and frowned. ‘Thank you for warning me, Jo. I had thought he was just being kind, but I see now that I must be a little careful. I shall make sure that there are others present when we go to explore the island.’

Lucy’s eyes had been opened by her sister’s warning, and when the boats were being made up, she made certain that Miss Tremaine, Lord Harcourt and another lady were in the same boat as General Rawlings and herself. Once on the island, the little group set off together, following the paths through the trees and tall rhododendron bushes to the centre of the island where the little temple was situated.

Miss Tremaine took Lord Harcourt’s arm in a proprietary way, so Lucy followed with General Rawlings and the others walked behind them as the boat returned to the shore to pick up another party.

The rhododendrons were in flower as were some azaleas and camellias, their blossoms a riot of reds, oranges and pinks. Lucy was delighted with all she saw—it was a pretty place, quiet and peaceful, populated by a variety of birds, who fluttered anxiously through the trees as their haven was invaded. She gave a little cry of delight as they came upon the little temple, running towards it to investigate.

It had been built of white marble to resemble a Grecian temple and was open to the elements on all sides, though there were little benches where it was possible to sit for a while if one cared to. Lucy thought it lovely, though in a way it had been more romantic when it remained a mystery at the heart of the little island. She sat down on the bench, smiling at Lord Harcourt as he came up to her.

‘I fear you must be disappointed, Miss Horne,’ he teased. ‘No sleeping prince for you to awaken—or elves and witches.’

‘But it is an enchanted place just the same,’ Lucy replied, looking up at him. ‘Do you not think so?’

‘Perhaps…for some,’ Jack replied. ‘I think the company one finds oneself in is all important…’ He turned his head as Miss Tremaine joined them, though she did not sit down on the marble bench. ‘Does the island please you, Miss Tremaine?’

‘Oh, it is pretty enough,’ she replied with an air of boredom and twirled her elegant parasol. ‘I have seen others as interesting—perhaps more so. I understand that you have had your own grounds landscaped, Lord Harcourt. Do you have a lake?’

‘Yes, though I do not have an island. We have some extensive woods, however,’ Jack replied and for a moment his expression darkened as he recalled the old woodcutter’s hut that had featured in the games he and David had once played.

‘I have heard that you have a magnificent water feature—based on something you saw at Versailles?’

‘Oh, it is not anything like as grand, though I like to think it fits my estate rather better than something larger,’ Jack said. ‘But I also have a wild garden—or a wilderness, as my head gardener is pleased to call it.’

‘How exciting,’ Miss Tremaine said. ‘Shall we go back, sir? I have seen enough of this.’

Jack offered her his arm and they began to stroll in the direction of the landing place. The other lady and gentleman had gone a few seconds earlier, and Lucy suddenly found herself alone with General Rawlings.

‘So we have this enchanted place to ourselves, m’dear,’ he said, giving her a look that made Lucy suddenly a little uncomfortable. Remembering her sister’s warning, she got up to follow the others, but he caught her arm, turning her to face him. ‘No, don’t run off, my pretty. I have been hoping to get you to myself for a little while.’

‘I think we should join the others,’ Lucy said her heart beating faster. Something about the way he was looking at her was unsettling. She had thought him a harmless gentleman, but now she was not so sure. ‘The boat will have to come back for us otherwise.’

‘Let it,’ he said, his finger caressing her bare arm. ‘You must be aware that I find you very attractive, Miss Lucy. In fact, I have been thinking of making you—’

‘Miss Horne!’ Lord Harcourt’s voice cut across General Rawlings’s words. ‘I believe we should return to the shore. Miss Tremaine is impatient to join the others.’

‘Yes, of course.’ Lucy flushed and pulled away from her companion, going to join him. She gave him a grateful smile, but was chilled by the expression in his eyes. He was angry! ‘Thank you for reminding us, but we were just coming.’

‘Go on ahead and get into the boat,’ Lord Harcourt said. He turned to the other man as Lucy obeyed swiftly. ‘She is too young and innocent, Rawlings. You would do well to remember that!’

‘Damn you for your insolence, sir! My intentions are nothing but honourable. I was about to propose marriage.’

‘Indeed?’ Jack gave him a hard stare. ‘I repeat—she is too young and innocent. You should look elsewhere for your third wife, sir.’

‘You are in no position to censure me from what I hear,’ Rawlings said, giving him a look of dislike. ‘At least all of my children were born in wedlock.’

Jack smiled, but there was a hint of menace in his eyes. ‘Listening to scandalous tales is a fool’s errand. I would not advise you to pass on lies, sir—unless you are willing to face the consequences.’

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—’

‘It would offend my sense of decency where a young lady of respectable birth is concerned,’ Jack replied harshly. ‘Even if we had an understanding, which we do not, I should not expect such liberties until after the wedding. As I have no plans to marry just yet, I think we should bring this conversation to an end, Miss Tremaine.’

He had been too blunt, for she had turned bright red and rushed from the conservatory, leaving him wishing that he had chosen his words more carefully. Jack had not meant to offend her, and though she had pushed herself on him determinedly since his arrival, he had done nothing to discourage her. Indeed, she was very much the kind of lady he had been toying with the idea of marrying, because he believed she was unlikely to be easily hurt. She had come out four seasons ago, and had not yet married. He had no idea why, because she was beautiful and in possession of a small fortune, which should have been enough to secure her many offers. Either she had refused them all or for some reason her suitors had held back.

Dismissing Miss Tremaine from his thoughts, Jack went out into the garden to smoke a last cigar. He was thoughtful as he stared at the moon, remembering his dance with Miss Horne, a faint smile on his lips. There was no doubt about it, she was an enchanting child—much too young for him, of course. Besides, her mama had clearly heard those damned rumours, for why else had she intervened when he had been about to invite Lucy to take supper with him? It annoyed him that the tales should be circulating, but there was nothing he could do to refute them.

She was a careful mother, and he did not fault her for that, because he knew what perils could lie in the path of an innocent whose mother—or rather stepmother—did not care enough to protect her. Mrs Horne would take some convincing that he was a fit person to court her daughter. He could, if he chose, set her mind at rest, but for the moment he did not care to—it was not his secret and he would keep it close to his chest, as he had promised. In any case, he had no intention of paying court to Lucy Horne—even if she was the most enchanting little thing he had seen in a long time.