Cinderella in the Regency Ballroom: Her Cinderella Season / Tall, Dark and Disreputable. Deb Marlowe
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      ‘Batiste, big brother!’ Jack crowed. ‘Racci got my letter, asking that he keep an eye and ear out, and then, wham! One morning he spots the Lady Vengeance riding at anchor in the bay. Racci sent a message off to the British Naval Commander, but she was gone before they got there.’

      ‘So he’s not been caught?’ asked Charles.

      ‘No, but neither did he re-supply. He’s on the run, Charles, and for the first time I feel as if we truly might catch up with the bastard.’

      His brother grinned. ‘So that’s why you are in such a good mood. Triumph of logic and reason over tyranny and villainy?’

      ‘Perhaps not triumph, yet, but definitely a step in the right direction. And it was due to sound thinking and determination,’ Jack corrected. ‘As well as good contacts, of course.’

      ‘Nice job, little brother.’ Charles stepped back as his groom led his mount forwards. Another man came to take the grey and Jack savoured the feeling of his brother’s approbation as he handed him over to be harnessed with his mate.

      ‘I’m surprised you are bothering with poor Miss Beecham now that you’ve got Batiste on the run,’ Charles teased as he swung up. ‘Why bother taking her and Mother out if you no longer need to pursue her connection with Matthew Beecham?’

      A small, cowardly piece of his soul had already whispered the same message in Jack’s ear. He rebuffed his brother in the same way he had sternly talked to himself.

      ‘The girl is Mother’s guest, Charles, not a pawn in some game I’m playing,’ Jack said reproachfully. He waved the groom away and checked his brother’s girth strap himself.

      ‘I know, I know, it was just a brotherly jibe.’ Charles did not sound in the least repentant. ‘I can’t help thinking of what happened to me, though, last time Mother adopted a protégée.’

      Jack froze. ‘The situations are not at all similar.’

      Charles laughed. ‘I know. Just watch yourself.’

      ‘Don’t even joke about such things,’ Jack said with shudder. ‘What a wretched husband I should make, holed up in my rooms, losing myself for days on end in my papers and books.’ He eyed Charles soberly. ‘And we both know what a wretched husband does to a family. I have no plans to inflict such a fate on anyone.’

      ‘You never know, Jack. Some day you might just meet a young lady who interests you more than your stale ancients.’

      ‘Miss Beecham does interest me. She’s a lovely girl, but I have no intention of making her miserable for the rest of her life. I give her the respect she is due as a friend of the family, but I’m not about to give up any other possible leads to Batiste.’

      ‘Do you think the girl will co-operate, then?’

      Jack shrugged. ‘I won’t know until I ask.’

      ‘Best of luck to you.’ Charles nudged his mount forwards. ‘The vote on this bill comes soon, and then I’ll be back to Sevenoaks for a few days.’

      ‘I’m sure I’ll see you before then.’ Jack waved his brother off.

      The landau stood ready, polished surfaces gleaming, the horses prancing in anticipation. Dissatisfied, Jack climbed in. He much preferred to do his own driving. But he gave a nod of readiness to the groom and the team went wheeling after his brother. As the man eased them into the flow of traffic in the street, Jack steeled his nerves against the coming confrontation.

      Despite his fine words to Charles, he knew his last encounter with Miss Beecham had been a disaster, start to finish. His shoulders hunched involuntarily. Especially the finish. He’d been sick at the thought of what he’d almost done and horrified at his own complete loss of control.

      So close. His hand had buried itself in the glowing softness of her hair. Her breath had mingled, hot and sweet, with his. He’d stood mere seconds away from locking her within his embrace and ending her disturbingly empathetic conversation with a searing kiss.

      After his escape he had waged a silent war with himself, wavering between his wish to stay as far away as possible from the dangerous chit and his need to ask for her co-operation in finding her cousin. She had every right to refuse him—to slap his face and order him to keep his distance. But he hoped fervently that she would not.

      He felt better, more like himself, now. His success in finding a first trace of Batiste’s whereabouts had taken the edge off of his desperation. He’d slept at last without being haunted by taunting visions of the captain and his father. He’d clamped down hard on his wayward emotions and taken a step back towards the equilibrium he craved.

      This exhibition should be the perfect venue to help him get back in Miss Beecham’s good graces. A gorgeous house, intellectual stimulation, fascinating antiquities, beautiful gardens—what more could he ask for? He could deal with her in his own milieu, impress her, charm her and get her alone where he could offer up his proposition and in no way act again like a weak-willed fool.

      She was just a woman. One endowed with wit and beauty and a good deal of spirit, to be sure, but no longer a match for his discipline and determination. He could do this. If only she gave him the chance.

      Traffic quieted as they made the turn on to Bruton Street. Jack stared as the landau slowed, approaching his brother’s house. What was this? At first he tried mightily to hide his dismay. Then he gave up, gave in and simply laughed out loud. He had not granted the wily Miss Beecham enough credit. Give him the chance? Clearly she meant to leave nothing to chance.

      Instead of a pair of ladies waiting patiently inside, a large group of people milled on the steps and on the pavement in front of the town house. Several vehicles waited empty in the street. He spotted Minerva Dawson and her betrothed, Lord Lindley. There stood Mrs Montague and—Lord, was that Sally Jersey? In the midst of them stood Miss Beecham. He caught sight of her as she gave a little jump and a wave.

      ‘Good morning, Mr Alden!’ she called. ‘I hope you won’t mind a few additions to your party!’

       Chapter Six

      Lily had succeeded in her ploy. She’d been unable to deny the twinge of satisfaction she’d felt when she’d glimpsed the surprise on Jack Alden’s face this morning, but, she had to admit, he’d succeeded in surprising her, too.

      A country villa? She turned round and round inside the incredible central hall of Chester House. Awestruck, she let her eye rove from the stone floor, over the magnificent plaster ornamentation and on to the high windows and the lofty dome overheard. Her jaw had dropped when they had pulled up to this gleaming neo-Palladian villa, but with her first step inside she’d fallen instantly in love.

      Oh, how her mother would despise the place. A wealthy gentleman’s playhouse. A hedonist’s dream, replete with everything fanciful, ornate and overblown.

      But so much more, as well. Like a light and airy treasure box, it showcased art and antiquities flanked by and contained within the most exquisite architecture. It stood testimony to man’s capability for beauty, celebrated his sense of ingenuity and wonder. It spoke directly to Lily’s soul.

      Guests, laughing and boisterous, began to spill in behind her. Lily was swept СКАЧАТЬ