The Prince Regent wouldn’t notice her, otherwise. He might be drunk much of the time, but she’d heard he was a perceptive man who appreciated beauty, wit, and charm.
“Thank you very much,” Lady Courtney said when she was finished.
Jilly looked up from smoothing out the lady’s hem and smiled. “It was my pleasure.”
Lady Courtney held out a hand and helped her up. “I hope I see you about Town in the coming weeks, Miss Jones. You’re an amiable young lady.”
“Thank you.”
And then Lady Courtney turned her back on her and left with another friend.
Jilly took a deep breath and forced herself to leave the haven of the ladies’ retiring room, as well, but alone.
She decided to skip the receiving line and slip into the crowd. Perhaps she’d find Captain Arrow.
But the first person she saw that she knew was Sir Ned, who was at the punch bowl. When he looked up and saw her, he raised a brow in recognition. “Miss Jones, I need you to take this to Lady Hartley. She’s on the wall next to the gallery. I’m off to the card room and it’s out of my way to return in that direction.”
Heavens. Did she exude a servile attitude? Or was she simply too kind for her own good?
She chose to think the latter.
“I’m sorry, Sir Ned,” she said. “I’m off to the game room myself. Shall I see you there?”
The look of shock he gave her was most gratifying. She moved away, unable to resist a small, private grin, and almost ran into Captain Arrow and Miss Hartley.
Miss Hartley clung to his arm and had such a glow of happiness about her, she looked almost pretty.
“Why, Miss Joneth!” Miss Hartley’s lisp became more pronounced when she was terribly excited. “Isn’t this the most beautiful ballroom you’ve ever seen?”
Jilly met Captain Arrow’s eyes. His gleamed with good humor and seeming delight that he’d encountered her.
It warmed her heart to know someone was happy to see her.
She returned her gaze to Miss Hartley. “Indeed, it is a beautiful ballroom. And you look lovely.”
Miss Hartley smiled broadly. “So do”—she hesitated, her eyes widening as if she were seeing Jilly’s gown for the first time—“ah, you. You look very nice.”
Nice. It was hardly a compliment, but she knew Miss Hartley meant well. “Thank you,” she replied with a forced smile.
Would her humiliation never end?
“I must say you’re a breath of fresh air, the two of you,” said Captain Arrow. “I’ve had enough feathers in my face to keep me sneezing for years. At least you two know better than to dress like giant birds.”
Miss Hartley looked at Jilly and giggled. “He’s so silly, isn’t he?”
Jilly had to laugh back. “Yes, he is.”
She was glad he’d taken the attention off her plain gown.
Captain Arrow slanted her a glance. “We’re on our way to introduce Miss Hartley to several of my acquaintances. I told her I don’t dance, but my friends do. Would you care to join us?”
He held out his free arm, and she took it. “Thank you,” she said, “I’d love to.”
All the while they walked through the crowd, she noticed other women looking avidly at her consort. Yes, she was sharing him with Miss Hartley, but he was the handsomest man in the room, without a doubt. And she—
She’d lain with him, and allowed him to kiss her in most inappropriate places, and he’d made her—
She couldn’t say what he’d done. But the memory brought heat to her cheeks.
“Are you all right, Miss Jones?” Captain Arrow whispered in her ear.
She felt a thrill down to her toes. “Perfectly,” she said, feeling very happy. She wouldn’t examine why.
At one point, they brushed by Lady Tabitha and her friends, who were surrounded by young bucks. Even so, Jilly saw Lady Tabitha and Serena pause in their conversation and watch them walk by. Jilly liked to think that perhaps they were miffed that she was with Captain Arrow and not they.
But it doesn’t matter, she told herself. I can’t have him. Who am I to act so proud?
Nevertheless, she couldn’t help but be gratified to know she might have unsettled Lady Tabitha.
A moment later, she and Captain Arrow dropped off Miss Hartley with the captain’s gentleman friends, one of whom escorted her onto the dance floor.
Lumley winked at Jilly. “We must dance. It’s dangerous to linger long with Captain Arrow.”
“Later,” the captain said, conveniently ignoring his friend’s teasing. “We’re in the midst of an interesting discussion.”
And then he led her away—but not before Lumley managed to get her to agree to dance with him in the next hour.
“Of course,” she called back to him over her shoulder.
A moment later, she and the captain were finally alone in the crowd.
“You look stunning tonight.” His tone was intimate.
“Thank you.” She couldn’t help it—she was gratified by his attention. Opening her fan, she looked over it in a teasing manner. “You’re an adept flatterer, sir.”
“I’m not joking.” His golden eyes smoldered into hers. “No matter what you wear, you’re beautiful, even if it’s an ordinary blue-sprigged muslin gown … with a simple fringe of lace at the neckline.”
She could hardly breathe. He was referring to the gown she’d worn that morning, the one he’d partially removed to pleasure her.
“You’re very kind.” And he was, but she felt a strong need to keep their conversation as plain and unromantic as possible.
He seemed to sense her reticence. “I see you’re no longer with Lady Tabitha and her cohorts.”
It was a convenient change of subject.
“Yes,” she replied. “We parted ways soon after we arrived.”
“Any problems there?”
“No.” She had no desire to let him know of her humiliation. “At least I gained entrance to the ballroom, thanks to her invitation.”
Captain Arrow looked at her with an inscrutable expression. “I’m not sure I believe things were easy between you.”
“It’s no concern of yours,” she said smoothly. “I can take care of myself. Meanwhile, we have to devise a plan to catch the Prince Regent’s attention.”
“There is no plan. I’ll simply introduce you, and then you shall charm him into coming to Dreare Street.”
“Captain,” Jilly remonstrated. “We need a better arrangement than that. I’m not the charming type.”
“Which is actually why I find you so charming,” he said low.
She swallowed and looked up at him. “You shouldn’t say things like that.”
“Why not?”
She bit her lip and looked away. “Despite what happened earlier today, I’m not in the market for flirtation.”
“Be that as it may, I find it hard to resist flirting with you.” His tone was quite sincere.
She looked back at him, so handsome and impressive in evening dress. “I’m a substantial person, Captain. I—I can’t play about as if life were a mere game. It’s serious business to me. I must make my living at the bookstore. I’m a woman alone, and I … I want to stay that way.”
“Why?” He came closer. “Why, Miss Jones, should someone as warm and lovely as you want to stay alone?”
She stared up at him. “Because there’s no pain.”
Around them the crowd grew thicker and louder. He stared at her a moment. “I knew there was something you weren’t telling me,” he said, and pulled her by the hand to the garden doors flung open at the back of the ballroom. “Come with me.”
She dug in her heels, which was impossible, really, on the marble floor, but she managed to stop their forward progression. “Please. Don’t. You mustn’t listen so closely to everything I say. I only meant, I prefer my simple life to the complications that must come with having a … a larger life.”
He looked at her with a grave expression. “Simpl
e life? That’s an interesting way to describe hiding.” He dropped her hand.
She froze for a moment, flustered at his choice of words.
Hiding.
He couldn’t know. And as far as she was concerned, he never would. It really wasn’t fair that she must keep her guard up at all times. But it was the price she must pay for her freedom.
“Remember our purpose,” she said, striving to keep her tone light. “We’re going to have a street fair to end all street fairs. Dreare Street will wake up. People will notice it again but in a good way. You’ll be able to sell your house. I’ll get more customers. We’ll move forward with our lives.”
“You’re right.” His tone was dry.
Now their aloneness in the middle of a vast crowd of merrymakers no longer felt cozy and warm. Something felt sad. Off.
“Shall we go see Prinny?” she suggested in a festive manner, but her heart was heavy.
“I suppose so,” the captain answered testily.
He was angry she wouldn’t go to the garden with him, but didn’t he know why?
She’d surrender. And that was where her greatest danger lay.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Stephen always enjoyed a challenge. His most difficult was Miss Jones. Yes, he’d merely wanted a scorching flirtation, and the events that had transpired at Hodgepodge had convinced him they had one, but he still wasn’t satisified.
He wasn’t sure why. But something in him wanted more from her. Much more.
But what exactly?
He craved touching her, but he also liked sparring with her, telling her about his life, laughing with her, and simply being with her. He wished more than anything that she’d tell him about herself, but she’d made it clear she wanted to be left alone.
The secondary challenge of convincing the Prince Regent to visit the unluckiest street in Mayfair seemed easy in comparison to the problem that was Miss Jones.
Yet twenty minutes after Stephen’s revealing conversation with her—and their mutual commitment to gain access to the royal—they still hadn’t succeeded.
“He’s surrounded by a most annoying crowd,” Stephen said. “Most of them drunk and belligerent if anyone dares attempt to break into their circle.”
“There’s even a circle around the circle,” Miss Jones observed, an adorable pucker on her brow. “Did you see the look on their faces when you told them you were one of Prinny’s Impossible Bachelors and must speak to him? They couldn’t have cared less.”
She bit her thumb and stared at Prinny’s minions, political and otherwise.
“What are you thinking?” Stephen asked her.
“What you’re thinking.”
“You have no idea what I’m thinking.”
She blushed. “You’re thinking we’ll use your naval strategies to get to him.”
“Is that so?” He couldn’t help admiring her bravado. “Tell me more about my thoughts, Miss Jones.”
“Very well.” He heard the catch of excitement in her voice. “Imagine him, Captain, as the pirate’s galleon you have to capture. And he’s surrounded by a fleet of smaller ships, all with loaded cannons.”
He chuckled. “You’re mad.” A beat passed. “But I like the way you think.”
She grinned. “When you’ve devised the plan”—she nudged him with an elbow, probably to remind him not to get too close, physically or otherwise—“you’ll know where to find me. I’ll be with Lumley, taking him up on his offer.”
And then she took off.
“Don’t waltz with him!” Stephen called after her, feeling oddly protective. He didn’t want any man getting ideas about her, not even Lumley.
But she must not have heard him. She was already wending her way through the crowds.
Reluctantly, he returned his attention to the Prince Regent. It only made sense that he’d have to stage a diversion. That would call off the smaller “ships”—the sycophants and political advisors—and then he’d take the prince broadside in an all-out attack, using every weapon he had at his disposal.
The best one, of course, was Miss Jones.
While he was cogitating, an imposing male with a broad grin approached.
“Harry!” Stephen clasped his good friend on the shoulder, and they shook hands.
“Glad you’re on English soil again,” Harry said heartily.
He was followed by a pert brunette who smiled from ear to ear when she saw him. “Stephen!” she cried, and hugged him round the waist.
“Molly Traemore.” He hugged her back then held her at arm’s length. “You’re stunning tonight. More beautiful than I’ve ever seen you. And I think I know why.”
Molly nodded happily and looked down at her stomach, her hand pressed to it with tender care. “We didn’t want to write. We wanted to tell you in person.”
“But you’ve been noticeably absent from our home since your ship came in,” Harry said with an arched brow. “That usually means you’re having too much fun to be bothered.”
Molly tapped his arm with her fan. “Are you?”
“Yes,” Stephen said, “if you call having a house on an unlucky street and a meddlesome neighbor embroiling me in a scheme to make it prosperous again entertaining.”
“That wouldn’t be Dreare Street, would it?” Molly asked.
“Yes, it is.” Stephen looked over his shoulder at Miss Jones dancing with Lumley. “And there’s the meddlesome neighbor.”
Harry gave a low whistle. “Now I understand. Even from here, I can see she’s a match for you. Look at those eyes. They quite twinkle.”
“And I like the way she holds herself,” Molly added. “I can tell she’ll take no nonsense from you, Stephen.”
Stephen’s chest tightened. “It’s not like that at all.”
“I said the same thing about Molly.” Harry cast an amused sideways glance at him.
“Don’t start—” Stephen told him in his best warning voice.
Harry laughed. “I’m not one of your sailors, Captain. You can’t make me walk the plank for noting that you’ve never stared at a woman the way you’re looking at your meddlesome neighbor right now.”
“Traemore—”
“Shush, you two,” said Molly, avidly watching Miss Jones. “I saw her in the ladies’ retiring room pinning the hem of Lady Courtney’s gown.” She clasped her hands together. “Now I know why I can’t keep my eyes off her. She looks like a lady’s maid let loose at a fine ball.” She turned to Stephen. “Is she a lady’s maid?”
“No.” Stephen gave a little laugh. “She’s a bookseller.”
“Whatever she is, she makes an enchanting picture!” Molly exclaimed. “Everyone’s watching her and Lumley. See?”
She inclined her head to the crowd lining the dance floor. The observers did appear charmed by Miss Jones, who’d just passed under Lumley’s arm. Her eyes were, indeed, twinkling merrily, and she had a most infectious smile. Lumley was clearly happy having her as his dance partner, even though her gown couldn’t be considered luxurious, as the other ladies’ could.
Stephen saw Lady Tabitha eyeing his neighbor with open scorn and a bit of frustration.
He turned to see if Prinny and his cronies were watching her, but they were still ignoring the goings-on around them. Raucous laughter spilled from their group. Stephen could see only the top of Prinny’s head. It was as if the royal were inside a fortress three-people thick.
“Who is this neighbor of yours?” Molly asked him, her eyes curious.
“Miss Jilly Jones,” murmured Stephen. “But I’d rather everyone think she were someone else.”
“Why’s that?” Harry still had his gaze on Miss Jones on the dance floor.
“We need to bring her to Prinny’s attention.” Stephen turned to Molly. “I’ll explain later,” he said softly, “but you’ve given me an excellent idea. I need you to tell your friends she’s posing as a woman of unremarkable but respectable birth. Tell them she’s actually the direct descendant of an old line of Cel
tic kings, is extremely wealthy, and doesn’t want anyone to know her origins.”
“But she’s descended from kings!” Molly exclaimed.
“Not really—” Harry said.
“Darling.” Molly sent him an arch look. “I know. I was acting.”
“You’re good.” Her husband chuckled. “Very good. Now go follow the captain’s orders, will you?”
Molly kissed his cheek—Stephen’s, too—and scampered away, as best a lady expecting a child could scamper with a bit of scintillating gossip to spread.
“Congratulations, old man,” Stephen told Harry. “I can’t believe you’re going to be a father.”
“Thank you,” Harry said. “I never thought I’d say this, but I couldn’t be happier.”
“I’m glad for you, truly.” Stephen paused. “But don’t wish the same fate on me. I see it in your eyes. You’ve joined the ranks of contented married couples and want me to be just as happy.”
“Can you blame me?” Harry shrugged. “Maybe you’re ready to settle down yourself. You’ve left the navy, after all.”
Stephen shook his head. “Because I want to do something new. It’s been a long, rewarding career. I’ve been at it almost fourteen years.”
“Since you were a pup. Will you ever consider marrying?”
“It’s not in my plans, no,” said Stephen, his gaze still on Miss Jones.
“It wasn’t in mine, either, as you’ll recall.” Harry gave one vigorous rub to Stephen’s shoulder. “Just know I’m here if you ever get confused about anything.”
“Confused? Me?”
“Oh, I forgot,” Harry said, his tone dry. “A navy captain can’t afford to get confused.” He paused, a serious expression on his face. “I’ll say it again. I’m here if you ever need counsel. It’s hard to fathom, I know, but I’ve got experience now in matters of the heart. So does Nicholas.”
“He’s still in America with Poppy?”
“Yes.” Harry grinned. “I’m better at it than he is, though.”
“Right,” said Stephen. “I’ll be sure to tell him you said so when he gets back and we find out he’s the father of a set of twins.”
Cloudy with a Chance of Marriage Page 17