The Valentine's Day Ball

by Julia Parks

  But no, before his mother had left Bath than morning, she had been quite emphatic. Jane had asked if he, too, planned to go to London. She had asked, his mother insisted, in longing accents.

  And so, perhaps foolishly, Drew was once again going to Heartland to see Jane. If anyone had told him six months before that he would be so devoid of pride as to chase after any woman—especially one as maddening as Jane Lindsay—he would have called them insane. But here he was, smiling grimly as the front door swung open.

  Pipkin bowed. “Lord Devlin.”

  “Pipkin, I’ve come to see your mistress.”

  “I’m afraid—”

  “I’ll brook no interference this time.” Drew flexed his hands as Mickey took a step closer. Pipkin shook his head, and the gentle giant stepped back.

  “That will not be necessary, my lord. Miss Lindsay has gone away.”

  “The devil you say! She told my mother only yesterday that she couldn’t even venture to London at this time.”

  “Nevertheless—”

  “Jane! Jane! Come down here this instant!” roared Drew. When there was no response, he started up the stairs, taking two at a time. “Jane!”

  “My lord! My lord!” puffed Pipkin, trying to keep up.

  Drew threw open one door after another. Finally, he surprised two of the upstairs maids who were restoring order after Jane’s hasty packing. Drew stood on the threshold, taking in the scene, the wind effectively knocked from his sails.

  “As I told you, my lord, Miss Jane left not more than fifteen minutes ago.” Drew stared at the wheezing butler as though trying to comprehend some foreign tongue. “Perhaps your lordship would care for a drink while I explain.” Pipkin stepped aside, letting Drew precede him down the corridor.

  b

  Jane’s carriage was just outside Trowbridge when she heard the shot. Tucker bolted up and peered out at the bright sunlight. Jane’s hand went to the pocket of her carriage dress, and her long fingers curled about the handle of her pistol.

  “Tom Summers!” she heard a familiar voice yell. “Don’t fire! It is I, Devlin!”

  Jane jerked the door open and leapt to the ground as the groom belatedly scrambled down from his post. Forgetting her promise to Nana that she would be careful, she demanded, “What the deuce do you think you’re about? Shooting a gun and stopping my coach, not to mention the fright you’ve given my horses and my people!”

  “Actually, miss, I fired th’ shot,” admitted her coachman sheepishly.

  “Well, no doubt you had just cause!” exclaimed Jane after an instant of frustrated silence. She turned back to Drew, ready to berate him on the other charges when she was dumbfounded once more. Drew’s tiger was hefting bags up to her groom who stowed them in the boot.

  “Have you lost your mind, James?”

  The groom caught the last bag and turned beet-red.

  “Of course he hasn’t,” said Drew, turning to his tiger. “Take the team back to Laura Place. And remember—I took the stage to York.” Drew flipped the boy a gold coin.

  “Right ye are, guv’ner!”

  Drew strode toward the carriage and prepared to help Jane inside. “Miss Lindsay,” he said, his dark eyes twinkling.

  “I’m not going anywhere with you, you—“

  “Jane, think of the servants. Get inside, and you can berate me all you wish. Tucker, I’m certain, will not mind.”

  “Of course not,” came the reply from within.

  Disdaining his hand, Jane climbed inside the coach and spread her skirt out to force Drew to sit beside the maid in the facing seat.

  Chuckling, Drew moved her skirt aside and sat down beside her.

  He gave the office to start, and the coach moved along while Jane fumed. Finally, Drew asked, “You wished to question me?”

  She glared at him but said nothing. Drew shrugged and turned to the maid.

  “You can imagine my own surprise, Tucker, to find myself journeying to France on such short notice. But when Pipkin told me of your mistress’s flight, why, ’twould have been unchivalrous to abandon her to such a treacherous journey!”

  “Indeed, my lord,” murmured the maid.

  “And you can imagine my dismay to find such a lack of appreciation from the distressed damsel.”

  “Enough!” snapped Jane. “Why you have decided to plague me with your presence, Devlin, I can’t fathom. But let me assure you that at the first posting inn, I fully intend to be rid of you!”

  “That might prove a difficult task, my dear.”

  She turned to face him. “Why are you here?”

  “Have you any idea what a spectacle you would present in Brighton? An unmarried female travelling to Paris with only her maid?”

  “I hope l may catch Cherry—” Jane stopped, aghast at what she had revealed.

  “Pipkin allowed me to read your aunt’s letter.” This revelation produced another indignant gasp. “Now, before you sack the fellow, think about the poor man’s predicament. Even if you had no idea of the impropriety of travelling to foreign shores alone, Pipkin was fully cognizant of the dangers, both physical and social. You might be set upon by robbers. At the very least, you would be open to the unwelcome advances of every young buck on the way to Paris. And there are hundreds of them.”

  “And I suppose, sir, travelling under your protection will improve my social standing?”

  He chuckled. “No, but no one will question a Mr. and Mrs. Davies travelling to Paris together.”

  Jane stared at him in horror. “Have you taken leave of your senses?”

  “No, I don’t think so. I considered travelling as brother and sister, but with my dark colouring, I was afraid our identities might be called into question. So, husband and wife it is!” he concluded cheerfully.

  “And if I refuse?”

  “Then I shall be forced to tell every landlord—discreetly, of course—that my wife is enceinte and suffering from hallucinations.”

  “Enceinte! You wouldn’t dare!”

  “Wouldn’t I?” He smiled sweetly.

  Jane settled into a frustrated silence that lasted until they reached the first posting inn. She treated her unwanted escort to a cold stare as he ordered lemonade and sandwiches. He settled her in the private parlour of the inn and went out to confer with her coachman.

  When Drew returned, Jane was pacing the floor.

  “I told Summers we’d rest the horses for an hour before continuing. He insists they’ll do to the next stage, and I must confess, I prefer that to hiring post horses so soon.”

  “Drew, surely you see we cannot go on with this farce?”

  “If you mean you have decided to accept the inevitable—”

  “Certainly not!”

  “Jane, it is for your own good.”

  “Rubbish! You’re only doing this to get even with me for slapping you!”

  “Nonsense, indeed! If l had wanted revenge for that, I would have taken you in my arms and carried you away.”

  “You couldn’t have! My servants…” Jane grew quiet. Her servants had shown themselves only too susceptible to Drew’s charm.

  “Your servants, my dear Jane, would have applauded. However, my reasons for journeying with you to France have nothing to do with that forgotten event. And cheer up, Jane. Perhaps we will catch up with Cherry in Brighton.”

  “And if not? Will you persist in this charade?”

  “We shall take the first packet to Dieppe—with Tucker along as chaperon, in case you have any fear that I have designs on your virtue.” He moved behind her, his breath milling the stray hairs on her temple.

  “I daresay I could withstand such an assault,” said Jane, more gently that she’d intended.

  “But would you want to?” he whispered. His hands travelled along her arms with a feather-soft touch.

  “’Ere we are, sir,” said the landlord, his broad backside pushing open the door as he entered with a large tray.

  Jane retreated to the table. She hadn’t rea
lized how hungry she was. As she filled her plate, the landlord beamed. “Now that’ll put the bloom back in those cheeks, Mrs. Davies!”

  Jane turned beet-red and choked on her lemonade. The landlord made a hasty retreat, apologizing profusely.

  “How could you! How could you tell him I was…was…”

  “With child?”

  “You said you’d only do that if…”

  “I know but I tried it out, and I find it quite makes up for the fact that I am a plain mister and not a lord. Besides, I didn’t tell him you were unhinged.”

  “Perhaps you should have warned the man that you are!”

  “Oh, come now, Jane, surely you can appreciate the fun of a bit of play-acting. You can’t be so stuffy as that!”

  “So, now I’m stuffy?”

  “Well, you do have a tendency to see the serious side of everything.”

  “And it seems you can never treat any subject with the dignity it deserves!”

  “You’re probably right. I once was young and foolish and viewed the world quite differently. But I have learned not to take anything too seriously, especially myself.”

  His tone was light, but Jane was not deceived. His dark eyes mirrored a long-ago pain. Jane touched his hand and broke the spell. He clasped her hand in his, giving it a grateful squeeze.

  “We’d best eat, Jane, if we intend to leave within the hour.”

  b

  Their next stop was at The Bear Inn in Devizes. While the horses were changed, Drew endeavoured to be agreeable by telling them the story of Miss Burney, the famous author of Evelina, who had stopped at the Bear years earlier and had met the innkeeper’s son, a young boy named Thomas. The innkeeper had offered his son as entertainment, asking if Miss Burney would like to have her portrait taken. The child had grown up, of course, to be the famous portrait painter, Thomas Lawrence.

  Jane looked out the window and said, “I believe they have finished.”

  Tucker rose, giving Lord Devlin an apologetic look, and followed her mistress to the carriage.

  The post horses from The Bear proved to be as fast as Jane’s own horses, and they made excellent time to Reading. Changing horses at The George, they continued, but their progress was slowed.

  Jane stared out the window, unable to focus on the passing countryside. Drew slouched in one corner, sleeping fitfully. Across from them, Tucker’s snore augmented the noisy rattling of wheels and harnesses.

  A full moon rose and still they drove, pausing only to change horses as they neared Brighton.

  Jane remained alert, her muscles too tight and her nerves too much on edge to allow her the comfort of sleep. She was bored. Enduring an entire day in an enclosed carriage with no distractions or conversation was punishment indeed. She peered at Drew in the gathering darkness and sighed.

  “Bored?” he asked, his deep voice startling her.

  “Dreadfully!” she admitted.

  “Sorry I haven’t been very good company.”

  “Many people prefer to sleep through a journey.”

  “Normally I don’t, but I took the coward’s way out. I was afraid you would continue to harangue me about forcing myself on you.”

  He likely expected an indignant rejoinder, but Jane only laughed.

  “You were probably very wise. I wouldn’t have given you a moment’s peace, and we would now be at daggers drawn.”

  “No doubt.”

  A comfortable silence fell between them. Jane supposed Drew to be dozing again when he said, “It shouldn’t be too much longer now. When we reach Brighton, I’ll ask the landlord if my wife’s sister and brother have arrived yet. That should suffice.”

  “I’ll ask,” said Jane, trying to achieve some control over her own destiny once more.

  “Very well, if you wish,” he said with a doubtful tone. “And if they aren’t at that inn, I shall go about to the others. Someone will have seen them.”

  “Is it possible they could have sailed already, Drew?”

  “It’s not likely. From my experience with the Channel, it is rarely so cooperative.”

  “But it might cooperate with them just to discomfit me.”

  He laughed at her foolishness. “You really are superstitious!”

  Jane turned her face toward the window. She felt tears start to her eyes. Now she really was being foolish to let such a teasing remark upset her so!

  “Jane, I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings,” said Drew. He moved closer, and placing a gentle arm around her shoulder, he pulled her back against his broad chest.

  “You are tired, my dear. You should rest.” Stroking her hair, the tenseness left Jane’s rigid body, and she relaxed against him, leaning her head on his shoulder. Gradually, sleep overtook her, and she turned slightly in his embrace as he carefully cradled her weary body.

  b

  The sudden stillness of the carriage awoke Jane, and she sat up, automatically smoothing her hair and gown. Tucker peered out the door at the bustling yard of the Ship’s Inn in Brighton. Drew sprang to the ground and held a quick conference with the innkeeper, and the groom hurried to help Jane and the maid from the carriage.

  Jane yawned and stretched her cramped muscles, not caring that Drew spoke to the landlord in her stead. He returned to her side.

  “The landlord says he’s not seen Cherry, but he did verify that the packet crossed the Channel this afternoon. We may have missed them, but I’ll check the other inns just in case.”

  The landlord, a keen judge of money and people, came forward at Drew’s signal and made a low bow to Jane. “If madam will follow me?”

  Jane and Tucker trudged into the inn while Drew had a word with Jane’s coachman. They were shown into a spacious room, and Jane eyed the big bed hesitantly. Turning to the landlord, Jane asked in her most imperious manner, “And where is my husband’s chamber?”

  “The next room, madam.” He crossed the room and unlocked a heavy door that joined the two chambers. “Mr. Davies has ordered a cold collation to be set up in his room, madam. Will there be anything else?”

  “No, you may go.” As soon as the obsequious man had bowed his way out, Jane ripped the silk bonnet from her head and threw it on the bed. “Can you imagine that, Tucker? Expecting me to dine in his room! I’ll not set foot in that place!”

  Tucker looked dubious “Perhaps ’is lordship is short on funds, Miss Jane, and couldn’t afford a private parlour.”

  Jane dismissed such an idea “He must know I am prepared to pay for one. Never mind, I simply shan’t eat. Help me prepare for bed, Tucker, and then you may go downstairs and eat.”

  Jane was soon tucked up in bed. Her stomach rumbled in protest as she heard the covers being set in the adjoining chamber. There was a timid knock on the inner door.

  In answer to ]Jane’s call, a young maid stepped inside and bobbed a curtsey. “An’ it please ye, mum, yer supper’s ready.”

  “Thank you, you may go.”

  Sketching another quick curtsey, the maid vanished, closing the door as she left. Jane heard the outer door to Drew’s room shut soon after. She listened to the silence for a moment. Drew must still be downstairs She could slip next door, fix a plate, and be back in her own room in a trice.

  Looking down at the shimmering silk of her nightgown, Jane said, “Blast!” She couldn’t risk Drew’s return while she was filling her plate, not dressed as she was. Why had she been so quick to disrobe? Now she would be forced to remain in her room.

  Resolutely, she retrieved her book from the night table and began to read. After a paragraph, she grimaced and closed the slim, leather-bound volume of sermons. She wished she had been more careful when selecting the book from the library at Heartland. It had been shelved accidentally with her novels, and Jane hadn’t bothered to read the title before slipping it into her pocket.

  She heard Drew enter his room, and judging from the sound of his movements, he was disrobing. That thud could only have been a boot hitting the floor. Jane grinned at the tho
ught of him struggling with the second boot. Thump! There it went. Drew probably already regretted not bringing his valet. She heard him stride across the floor and held her breath, waiting for his impatient knock on the joining door.

  Instead, it was a quick tap and a whisper. “Jane? Jane, are you asleep?”

  “No.”

  “Are you ready for supper?”

  “A supper a deux in your room? Never!” She heard a muffled exclamation, and then the lock was tested.

  Jane pulled the covers up under her chin as Drew strode into the room. He stopped at the foot of her bed and glared at her.

  “Why the devil aren’t you going to eat? What maggot have you got in that pretty head of yours now?”

  “Maggot? I’ll thank you not to be insulting, sir!”

  “You can thank me all you wish, but you will come next door and eat.”

  “I will not. How dare you think that I would dine with you in your bedchamber!”

  “For pity’s sake, Jane. Is that what this is about? Weren’t you listening earlier when I said I had no designs on your virtue?”

  “Of course I was, and that was why I was surprised that you would think I’d—” She gasped as he advanced toward her, his demeanour menacing. “What are you doing?” A tremor of excitement teased her body.

  “If you won’t get up of your own accord, I shall carry you to supper.”

  “You wouldn’t…” Jane let the bluff hang. Raising her chin, she returned his fierce scowl. “Very well!”

  Letting the counterpane fall, she picked up her wrapper from the foot of the bed. Drew hesitated as he glimpsed her rounded breasts practically spill from the top of her nightdress.

  Jane knew he was gaping at her—let him. She couldn’t help it if Mother Nature had been overly generous when passing out bosoms. It served him right! Jane slowed as she pulled on her wrapper.

  b

  She is deliberately teasing me.

  Sudden anger at his naiveté sprang forth. She knew the effect her body would have on him; no woman was that innocent. She raised one slim arm to free her long, shiny tresses. His fingers curved into fists in an effort to appear unmoved by her provocative body. Why was the room so warm? What had happened to the air?“Drew? Aren’t you coming?” She stood beside him, her modest flannel wrapper covering her charms. Her silky hair tumbled around her shoulders. Drew closed his eyes to deny the overpowering temptation to take her in his arms.