by Dawn Brower
“Nicholas,” their father’s voice boomed through the garden. “I’ve never seen a guiltier look on a person’s face. What have you done?”
Elizabeth kept her mouth shut. She’d tried to help him, but it appeared as if it was too little too late. His fate was in their father’s hands now. He could be even stricter than their mother. His punishments had a different tone and application. Elizabeth rather felt sorry for Nicholas and Christian. They were both going to feel the brunt of their father’s ire.
“We’ll leave the two of you to discuss it,” the duchess said. “Come, Elizabeth, you can tell me how the party has been for you.”
It was exactly what she’d been hoping for, but not at her brother’s expense. Oh, well. They both were aware of the consequences of their actions. She wouldn’t try to defend them. They moved away from her father and Nicholas. Her mother picked up Elizabeth’s arm and looped it through hers as they strolled.
“What is on your mind?” her mother asked. They stopped by a nearby rose bush. It was in full bloom with roses in various shades of red and pink. Her mother kneeled and smelled one of the buds.
Elizabeth wasn’t sure how much she wanted to tell her. They were close, but she was still her mother—and the idea of talking about a potential love interest seemed rather strange. She respected her mother’s opinion though. There was only one way to gain her mother’s perspective, and as uncomfortable as it was to voice her interest...she had to ask.
“Do you know much about the Duke of Whitewood?”
She smiled. “I noticed he’d caught your attention. Do you think he could be the one for you? He’s certainly handsome enough.”
“I’m not sure...” Elizabeth bit her lip. “That’s why I was wondering how much information you had on him.”
“I’ll admit there’s not much. He’s quite reclusive. His title is an old one and all but forgotten before the king awarded it to him. I’m not certain of the details, but it is clear he was raised as a gentleman. His manners are impeccable.”
Elizabeth sighed. “He’s Captain Jack Morgan.”
“Don’t be silly,” her mother chastised. “That’s a foolish tale my mother used to tell us.”
She shook her head. “I don’t think so.” Should she tell her mother the whole story? She’d never mentioned seeing him in the mirror all those years ago. “I had a vision of him once. When I was twelve. I saw grandmother and grandfather in it too. There was a man trying to kill them. Captain Jack was swept away as the story tells.”
Her mother jolted at Elizabeth’s confession. She recovered quickly and dismissed her revelation with a wave of her hand. “That was probably your imagination. You’ve heard the tale often enough.”
Elizabeth frowned. How could she make her mother understand? “But that wouldn’t explain how the duke looks exactly like the pirate I saw in the mirror. Besides, I called him out on it. He eventually admitted it to me.”
“That’s...amazing,” her mother said. “Are you certain?”
“He traveled through time like you did.” Elizabeth glanced at her mother. “I think he needs someone who understands his situation. Do you think you could speak with him? I am afraid I may have scared him off. He’s been avoiding me since we discussed it.”
If not for her own experiences, her mother probably wouldn’t even entertain the notion of Jack being the pirate from her mother’s story. But considering her journey from the twenty-first century to the nineteenth, she tended to have a more open mind. Elizabeth was banking on her mother’s ability to see a situation from all sides. Otherwise, Jack might very well be lost to her.
She patted Elizabeth’s hand. “The first chance I have, I’ll pull him aside and have a private conversation with him. Don’t worry about any of it. Leave it to me. After I talk to him, he won’t hide from you for knowing his secret. I don’t want my baby girl to miss out on true love.”
Elizabeth hadn’t said a word about her feelings for Jack. Her mother was too intuitive at times—at least that was taken care of. Jack wouldn’t be able to withstand the duchess. She was a force of nature when she had a task to complete.
“I never said...”
Her mother interrupted her, “You don’t have to. I can tell from the expression on your face when you say his name. It’s all dreamy and whimsical looking. Besides you’ve never taken an interest in a gentleman before.” She grinned. “The way you talk about them, you’d think you were swatting at gnats—annoying little pests.”
Elizabeth scrunched her eyebrows together. “I don’t mean to.” She frowned. “They bore me. Jack...” She slapped her hand over her mouth. A lady shouldn’t use a man’s first name. It implied a level of intimacy—if someone overheard her using it they’d believe an engagement was imminent.
“Like I said.” Her mother beamed. “You light up when you say his name. But, dear, please refrain from giving away how close you’ve become. Using his given name will give society the wrong impression. As much as I loathe to admit it.” She visibly shuddered. “There are rules that must be followed.”
“I know,” she agreed. “It slipped out. I’ll be more careful.”
Elizabeth hoped she was able to keep her word. She was growing rather proprietary where Jack was concerned. That way of thinking would lead her down a path of trouble. Somehow that almost seemed appropriate considering Jack used to be a pirate.
“See that you do,” her mother said. “Now let’s go inside. I’ve had enough of the outdoors.”
With that pronouncement, they headed back inside. They stayed silent as they strolled. It left Elizabeth with her own thoughts, and they weren’t heading in an innocent direction. She had to do something to gain Jack’s attention. It wasn’t in her to stand idly by and let things happen. There was a ball later that evening, and it was the perfect place to take action.
CHAPTER EIGHT
A damned ball. There was no avoiding the dratted thing. He’d promised Clifton he’d stay at the party and that meant attending all the events too. Elizabeth had been persistent in attempting to talk to him, but by some miracle he’d escaped each time. His luck wasn’t going to hold out for long though. She would make him tell her why he was avoiding her. That was inevitable... He hoped to put it off for as long as possible.
Because his feelings for her were—wrong.
How was he to explain that to her. He shouldn’t desire someone he was directly related to. She was his sister’s granddaughter—his niece’s daughter. It was dirty to think of her the way he did. Until he found a way to remove that disgusting emotion from himself, he couldn’t be near her. The temptation was too great, and Jack didn’t believe he was strong enough to resist it.
He adjusted his cravat one last time and took a deep breath. It was time to go downstairs and face his fate. If luck was on his side, and it usually was, he’d be able to continue to steer clear of Elizabeth. He’d do as Clifton asked and pay attention to his sister, Lady Bianca. It might even offer discouragement to Elizabeth, something he desperately needed in order to make it through the night’s festivities.
Jack left his room and headed toward the ballroom. He stopped outside the entrance and stared at the sea of gowns glittering under the candlelight. There were a lot of people inside the room. Lady Clifton had invited all the neighboring estates, and if Jack had to guess, an additional set of invites went out to a great deal of the aristocracy. She was one hell of a determined mama ready to find her daughter a husband of means. The mercenary side of Jack appreciated her efforts, but he rather felt sorry for Lady Bianca. She must feel a little lost in the sea of sharks at the ball.
He located Lady Bianca and made his way to her side. She glanced up at him with a ready smile. “Lord Whitewood, it’s good to see you. How are you finding the ball so far?”
Horrible, and he’d been in attendance less than a quarter hour. He couldn’t very well tell her that though. “It’s lovely. Your mother has a nice touch.”
She was one of the scariest pe
ople he’d ever met, and that was saying a lot considering his former pirating days. He handled her tenaciousness, but only because he had experiences wrangling people. A ship’s captain had to have complete authority and respect. There was one crew member who’d dare to defy him though. Percy... Jack hoped that Paul had managed to kill the man when he'd failed. Percy had dared to throw Evelyn overboard and when that hadn’t killed her, he’d been ready to slide a saber through her. Jack had been enraged when he realized Percy had defied his orders and given in to his ridiculous superstitions about a woman aboard a ship. The damned man had blamed Evelyn for all their misfortunes.
Lady Bianca bit her bottom lip and stared across the room. Jack turned to see who had her attention. Lord Redmayne was in her line of sight. Did the girl have an interest in the earl? That made his job a little easier if she did. If the earl was her preference, perhaps he could encourage a courtship between the two of them.
“Mama has the determination of...” Lady Bianca blushed prettily. “I probably shouldn’t finish that thought. It’s not very ladylike.”
Jack’s lips tilted upward. “With me, you may speak your mind. I like a woman who isn’t afraid to say what she’s thinking.”
“That’s good advice,” a familiar female voice said. “Do listen to him.”
Jack swore under his breath. Bloody hell. His luck wasn’t holding out. He should’ve known Elizabeth would show up and ruin his good mood. It was a ball, after all. Everyone was expected to attend. Instead of addressing her, he kept his focus on Lady Bianca.
“Has your dance card been filled?”
Lady Bianca shook her head. “I have a few still open.”
“Let me see it.”
Lady Bianca handed him her card. He quickly wrote his name down for an innocent quadrille and then handed it back to her. “I look forward to our dance.”
“As do I, Your Grace.”
“Are you going to dance with me?” Elizabeth tilted her chin upward and smiled at him with all the innocence of a... Jack paused and stared at Elizabeth as if he was seeing her for the first time. He’d been about to compare her to a pirate. Where had she learned to bring a man down with one look? Her face nearly danced with defiance as if daring him to refuse her. Her lips were open slightly and she’d lifted one brow mocking him.
Jack gritted his teeth. It was beyond rude for a lady to ask for a dance, but Elizabeth wasn’t afraid to be bold. He had a choice: either give her the cut direct or sign his name to her card. The easiest with all of society watching them was to accept his fate and dance with her, but it would be no simple task for him. He wanted more than anything to hold her in his arms. It was his deepest, darkest desire. Instead of speaking, he snatched her card from her and wrote his name on the first line he saw. He didn’t even look to see what the dance was.
She glanced down at the card and smiled coyly. “A waltz? How nice. I look forward to it.” Elizabeth’s eyes appeared to gleam with amusement. “By the way, I spoke to my mother. She would like a word with you at your earliest convenience.”
With those words, she spun on her heels and left them alone. He didn’t know what to make of that, but inside he had the dueling emotions of dread and excitement. How could he have signed to dance a waltz with her? He was a bloody fool. She didn’t understand, and it was time for him to explain why they couldn’t explore their desire—and it was there. It blossomed whenever she was near and ate away at him. He was doomed to always want her and long for her at a distance. Was this his fate for being a pirate?
“Do you have an interest in Lady Elizabeth?” Lady Bianca asked quietly.
Jack turned toward her. “Not at all. It’s a long-lost family connection.”
She quirked a brow. “How so? The Weston line is extensive. Is that how you’re acquainted?”
Not exactly, but he couldn’t very well explain that to her. “It’s a long story and complicated.”
“I understand.” She nodded. “Oh, there’s Lady Hyacinth. Have you met her?”
“I can’t say I have.”
A woman with midnight tresses styled in the latest fashion walked up to them. She leaned over and gave Lady Bianca a quick hug. She was a beauty, but Jack wanted a golden blonde temptress.
“Lady Hyacinth Barrington,” Bianca said. “This is His Grace, The Duke of Whitewood.”
Introductions were important in society. A lady shouldn’t have anything to do with a man if they’d never been introduced. Jack found it all tedious, but he played the game to perfection. “How do you do, Lady Hyacinth?”
“I’m quite well. I’ve been looking forward to this ball for ages. It took a lot to convince my uncle to make the trip. It wasn’t until he found out the Duke of Weston was attending that he gave in and agreed to escort me.”
Jack lifted a brow. “Your uncle?”
“Yes, Uncle Killian can be difficult. I really feel sorry for Scarlett.” She shuddered. “When she has her season, he’s going to be brutal.”
Jack had no clue who her Uncle Killian was, but he liked him already.
“Lord Whitewood,” Lady Bianca said. “Please dance with Hyacinth. She just arrived, and her dance card is empty.”
Jack had to force himself to not grit his teeth in annoyance. What was with forward ladies? Then he recalled he’d told her to speak her mind. She was doing as he’d suggested, so he couldn’t fault her for that. Lady Hyacinth handed him her card. He scanned it and made sure not to make the mistake of agreeing to another waltz. It was bad enough he had to hold Elizabeth so close. He signed it and handed it back to her.
“If you’ll both excuse me, I think I see someone I need to speak with.” He bowed and then turned on his heels to leave them. He walked over to Clifton, who was deep in conversation with an older gentlemen Jack had never met. They were talking about trains, a subject he could get behind. He approached them with caution and waited until Clifton acknowledged him.
“Whitewood,” Clifton said. “I was explaining your idea to Thornbury. He thinks it’s a good one.”
“Of course it is,” Jack agreed. “I came up with it.”
Modesty wasn’t top on his list of acceptable attributes.
“I don’t believe we’ve met,” Thornbury said. “I’m Killian Lynwood, the Earl of Thornbury, and you must be Jackerson Carwyn, the Duke of Whitewood.”
“I am,” Jack agreed. “Are you by chance Lady Hyacinth’s Uncle Killian?” It was too much of a coincidence for him not to be, but he had to ask.
Thornbury’s lips quirked up. “I am. Have you met my niece?”
“Only briefly. She mentioned you being—difficult,” he replied diplomatically. “I take it you don’t give in to her every whim?”
“Hy is a bit temperamental. Her father died when she was a young girl, and there’s not been a strong male influence around to guide her. My sister, her mother, lets her run wild. I wasn’t keen on bringing her here, but I have to speak with Weston.” He turned toward Clifton. “I was told he’d be here.”
“He is,” Clifton said. “He walked in with his duchess on his arm a moment ago.” The gestured toward the front of the ballroom. “They haven’t been overly social, but I can’t complain. I’ve avoided everyone whenever possible. I hate these things.”
Jack didn’t pay attention when anyone entered the ballroom. He’d checked for Elizabeth when he first arrived—his eyes going straight to her like a beacon. Anyone else didn’t warrant too much of his attention. He turned and glanced across the room, noticing Elizabeth’s mother for the first time. She was beautiful, but that didn’t surprise him. Elizabeth clearly took after her mother in that regard. He should find a way to have a conversation with the duchess. They had much in common, not the least their time travel experience. He had a lot of questions for her. She could tell him what happened to Evelyn. Maybe then he could rest easy and accept his fate... “If you’ll pardon me, I need to speak with someone,” he said.
“I’ll walk with you,” Thornbury said. “I assu
me you’re heading toward Weston as well. I saw the direction of your gaze.”
The man was way too perceptive—there was something singular about him. He was harder and didn’t seem to put up with any nonsense. As far as first impressions went, that wasn’t a bad one. Jack respected people who didn’t play games.
“Indeed,” Jack agreed.
They both bowed to Clifton and headed across the room. Jack appreciated the silence as they made the trek. He hated small talk, but utilized it when necessary. Thornbury appeared to have a similar thought process since he didn’t even attempt to make conversation. They stopped in front of the couple. Jack let Thornbury speak first.
“Weston,” he said. “I hate to interrupt...”
“Don’t even try,” the duke said shaking his head in amusement. “You take pleasure in it.”
Thornbury smiled. “Only sometimes.”
The duke lifted his wife’s hand and kissed it. “If you’ll excuse me, there are some things Thornbury and I have to discuss.”
“You can make it up to me later,” the duchess said. “Lord Whitewood can keep me company in the meantime.”
Jack shouldn’t be surprised that the duchess was aware of who he was. Elizabeth probably made it a point to fill her mother in on all the pertinent information. That made things easier on him. Thornbury and Weston walked off, leaving him alone with the duchess.
“Jack, is it?” she said.
He nodded. “I believe you have me at a disadvantage.”
“Yes,” she agreed. “Forgive me, but I don’t have patience for nonsense. Follow me and we’ll go someplace quiet to talk.”
He did as she bade and followed close behind her. They walked until they reached the library and went inside. She sat on a nearby chair and gestured for him to do so as well. Once he was seated, she began to speak. “To make us on even ground,” she began. “Please, call me Alys.”