Trimmed in Blue

by Sandra Sookoo

  He nodded and finished with the glove. “Will you come to the event this evening? Mother would love to see you. She likes you better than me for one reason—you don’t box.” But his grin was fond.

  “That she knows of.” He winked. “I’m absolutely planning on it, once you send the carriage back.” He flashed a smile. “Or I could play chaperone to you and the lovely Miss Harcourt.”

  “You wouldn’t.” Cecil set his top hat on his freshly combed and styled hair.

  “No.” He winked. “But I will dance with her tonight, and once I have her attention, I’ll tell her all sort of stories about you.”

  “I wouldn’t expect anything less.” He blew out a breath as his nerves crawled with anxiety. Why did this evening feel so damned important? It was only a ball. “Am I acceptable?”

  “Vastly, but then, Miss Harcourt has seen you covered in blood, and she likes you anyway. I rather doubt you’ll have issue tonight, especially if you make an effort with the charm.” When Cecil rolled his eyes, Samuel smiled. “Good luck.”

  Then he was off and into the borrowed carriage. A desultory rain was falling with a breeze, and the cloud cover promised more as the night progressed. No sooner had the conveyance rolled to a stop in front of her townhouse than a shadow broke away from the darkness and came toward it.

  What the devil? He frowned. “Louisa?” He swung open the door and vaulted out. When the shadow shifted, he caught the familiar tilt of her chin and the set of her mouth beneath the hood of her black cloak. By Jove, it was her! Relief sailed through him. “Why did you not let me retrieve you from the house?” And do things right by her. Rain droplets sparkled on the fabric. “You’re wet.”

  “Only my cloak.” She shrugged. “It was either this or agree to the viscount’s suit.” Her lips twisted into a scowl. “The baron wouldn’t let me leave otherwise. He thinks I’m stewing in my room, waiting for Wrycroft to escort me to the same event we’re attending tonight.”

  His stomach bottomed out, for the danger hadn’t died. Quickly, he handed her into the vehicle and joined her inside. “How did you—?”

  “The servants helped spirit me out.” She smiled and his gaze dropped briefly to her mouth. “I refused to have the night ruined by my stepfather’s machinations. It’s been the one thing that brought me comfort these last few days. Aside from seeing you for our boxing lesson yesterday.”

  And that session had been cut short due to an unusually high number of customers into his shop, so he’d sent her upstairs to his bachelor rooms where she’d changed clothes and then slipped effortlessly from the shop via the back stairs. There’d been no time for anything else. But when he’d retired that evening, he’d found a watercolor painting she’d done of him left on his bed with a handwritten note bearing her gratitude.

  Damn if he hadn’t lost a piece of his heart to her in that moment.

  “Bloody hell.” Cecil tapped the roof of the carriage. The two blocks between her residence and his parents would happen in a thrice. When the carriage lurched into motion, he dared much and swiftly kissed her, pulling away before things could grow heated. “Your bravery astounds me.” How many women would continue fighting for what they wanted even in the face of certain objection and failure?

  Louisa’s eyes were luminous in the shadows. “It’s been a process, and I still feel fear regularly.”

  “As do I.” On many things. The least of which sat mere inches away from him. He drew his gloved thumb along her lower lip and then told himself to stop touching her lest they never arrive at the ball. “You’ve learned well. I couldn’t be prouder of you.” The fact that she managed to surprise the hell out of him elevated his respect for her.

  Then his confidence flagged. Once she finally routed the baron—or once Cecil won enough blunt to buy her a house—would their association end?

  “Thank you. Changing one’s fate takes more than what society allows a woman to accomplish.” She found his hand in the dark and squeezed his fingers. “You might not think so, but you more or less rescued me. I wouldn’t have the courage to fight if it weren’t for you.” She brought his gloved hand to her lips and kissed the back. “That is indeed a worthy endeavor. Never stop fighting for those who need it. You never know when one kind word or deed will be the lifeline they need to persevere in their situation.”

  He’d lost the ability to speak, for her words sent a wad of unshed tears into his throat, and he didn’t know what to do. So, he swallowed heavily a few times, and when he glanced out the window, he breathed a sigh of relief as his parents’ townhouse came into view.

  Every window was illuminated, and the soft golden candlelight spilled out into the inky darkness. Cecil tapped the roof of the carriage. “Stop here. We’ll walk.” Anticipation played his spine as he climbed out of the vehicle and then assisted Louisa down. “I didn’t think to bring an umbrella.”

  “My hood provides enough protection.” Her voice was breathless. Was she as nervous as he? What did she think about being with him in public?

  God, but he hoped his family approved of her.

  What the devil for? Apparently, his common sense wished to argue the point.

  He had to accept what he was beginning to suspect was his path that became clearer with every passing day. He rather liked Louisa more than was proper for a teacher to a pupil. In the event things might progress into a romance, he hoped she’d get on well with his mother, at the very least.

  It’s because Royce is celebrating his engagement tonight, he silently argued back. I’m merely feeling maudlin, as if I’m on the outside looking in at something not meant for me. Yes, that was exactly the ticket. He fit a gloved hand to the small of her back and escorted through the gate and up the short walkway to the door.

  Such gammon, man. You’re nearly tip over tail for her, said his common sense, and his heart squeezed in agreement.

  Cecil ignored all those thoughts and ruthlessly shoved them all to the back of his mind.

  Louisa nudged his elbow as they entered the house, and Cecil nodded to the butler. “Stop woolgathering. I’m nervous enough without you failing to introduce me.” Her laugh sounded forced. “I feel like a bumpkin, and I most certainly don’t belong here.”

  “Hush.” He glanced at her and gave her an encouraging nod. “You’re as good as anyone here. Better, if you want to know the truth.”

  Then he gawked like the bacon-brained idiot he was as they handed the footmen their outer garments. Merciful heavens. She was magnificent in a gown of turquoise blue satin with delicate lace lining the bodice. A large sparkling gem of fine glass decorated each short, puffed sleeve. Tiny clear glass beads lay spattered over the skirt, twinkling each time she moved. Her dark hair upswept and held up by glittering combs showed her slender neck to perfection. Baby fine curls clung to her nape and sorely tempted him. He wanted nothing more in that moment than to pressed kisses to that creamy skin.

  He released a shuddering breath and gave himself a shake. “You’re beautiful, Louisa.” Not even her borrowed boy’s clothing could compare to the eye-catching picture she now made attired as a proper society lady. “I’ve never seen anyone more magnificent trimmed in blue than you are right now.” He didn’t care that the servants watched with bald curiosity. The woman needed a compliment, and it would be the first of many she’d no doubt garner tonight.

  A pretty blush stained her cheeks. She ducked her head, a clear indication she wasn’t used to that sort of attention. How adorable. “Thank you. I...”

  “Yes?” He offered her his crooked arm, and when she slipped her gloved fingers upon the sleeve of his evening jacket, another round of breathlessness hit him. The lilac scent she wore seemed to wrap around him and urge him closer to her.

  “I had this gown specially made months ago, before things escalated into the horrible problems they are today. Mother and I had a rare day of shopping and pleasant company. Perhaps it was folly of me to hope I’d have an opportunity to wear it, but I never lost that tiny bi
t of hope for something I assumed was impossible.”

  Cecil put his lips close to the delicate shell of her ear. “You should always dress as if something amazing were going to happen to you, because it will.” She was made to grace a man’s arm and move through the ton and have all eyes on her, to do incredible things. His chest tightened. And why shouldn’t it be his arm? Then his stomach knotted with worry. Because he wasn’t that high on the instep, and what could he offer her other than himself? He had no fortune or even a residence, and he was basically part of the merchant class, viscount’s son or not.

  “You’re quite charming tonight.” She smiled up at him, and he missed a step, recovering a second later. How had he never noticed the tiny golden flecks in her eyes or the barely-there beauty mark sitting high on her left cheekbone? “Though I think I prefer the grouchy man I spar with. He’s easier to read and talk to, since the cat’s apparently gotten your tongue tonight.”

  Heat spread up his neck as they approached the receiving line. Then there was no more time for conversation. “Miss Louisa Harcourt, may I present my parents, the Viscount and Viscountess Brockmorton.” He glanced at them—his father with his stately bearing and gray hair—and his mother—matronly with silver threads glimmering in her blonde tresses. They both peeked at Louisa with polite curiosity.

  “Enjoy your evening,” his father murmured before turning his attention to the couple behind Cecil.

  His mother, however, was more verbose in her response. She practically snatched Louisa into an embrace. “How pretty you are! I don’t believe I’ve seen you around Town.”

  Fear flashed through her expression, gone in an instant. “I’m afraid I don’t circulate much since my father died.”

  Please don’t ask her anymore questions, Mother. Then Louisa, being the honest sort, would feel compelled to divulge her link to the ton. That would make a murky mess indeed.

  “Cecil, why have you kept her a secret? It’s been an age since you showed interest in anyone.” His mother clicked her tongue. She addressed Louisa again, “Don’t be a stranger tonight, dear. I’ll want to talk with you later and find out how long you’ve known my son. I had no idea he’d wish to align himself with someone again after that shameless harlot broke his heart years ago.” She huffed. “Every time I see her mother at one of these functions, I fume all over again.”

  “It was a long time ago.” Oh, dear God in heaven. Cecil touched Louisa’s shoulder. “Best continue or my mother will talk your ear off.” The last thing he needed was for his parents to discover he’d been giving her boxing lessons clandestinely or that he might have developed... feelings for her along the way.

  Louisa smiled and dipped her head. “Thank you, my lady. I shall definitely seek you out. No doubt you have stories regarding Cecil I’d love to hear.”

  When he tried to draw her away from his brother Royce and his intended—who were next in the receiving line—his brother would have none of it.

  Older than Cecil by four years, he’d finally decided to settle down at the age of two and forty. His bride-to-be, however, couldn’t have been a day over two and twenty, with the fresh face of a recent debutante. If the familial rumors were correct, she’d been a Diamond of the First Water during last year’s Season. But then, Royce had always been one to chase who he thought was the best.

  “I’m Cecil’s second oldest brother,” he said as he took Louisa’s hand and brought it to his lips. “If you don’t mind me asking, how the devil did my scrawny little brother manage to land a looker like you?” His gaze dropped briefly to her décolletage. A hint of jealousy lay mirrored in the depths of his eyes. That didn’t bode well for his upcoming nuptials. “He was never one to favor brunettes.”

  “Buggar off, Royce. She hasn’t landed me.” The heat intensified on the back of Cecil’s neck, as Royce’s fiancée giggled. He snatched Louisa’s hand and put it firmly on his own sleeve. “I simply asked her to come this evening because...”

  Why? His common sense taunted him. How will you explain?

  But Louisa was much more polished and patient. The fact that she’d not let her home life affect her outlook or her attitude impressed the hell out of him. She smiled at his brother. “Cecil is an old acquaintance of mine, and since the death of my father, he merely wanted me to enter society again, so he invited me to your engagement ball.” Then the wonderful woman turned to address the young lady Royce was to marry, with all the confidence and poise of a duchess. “You are lovely tonight, and I wish you good fortune in your upcoming marriage.”

  “Thank you.” The girl beamed, all blonde and willowy, but she couldn’t hold a candle to Louisa’s light or looks.

  Though his family kept glancing at Louisa with speculation and curiosity, Cecil wanted her full attention on him. He wasn’t ready to share her quite yet. Gently, he tugged her away from the receiving line. “Would you mind terribly much if I claim the opening waltz with you?” Since they were late arriving, that dance would happen in a mere quarter of an hour.

  “I would adore that above all things.” Her smile, no less brilliant than before, softened into the gesture she reserved for him alone. “I’ll wager you’re a good dancer if your footwork in the ring is any indication.

  “Uh...” His traitorous heart skipped a beat. “I do well enough. Now, let’s take a tour about the ballroom and see what we’ve got to work with.” Or if there were people he needed to avoid to keep her safe this evening.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Cecil lifted his chin when he spied Samuel at the opposite end of the ballroom. Other than his best friend, he didn’t see an acquaintance, and neither did he discern anyone who could potentially present a threat to Louisa. He relaxed his guard slightly, and when the string quartet began to tune their instruments for the opening waltz, he held out a hand to her.

  “Have you changed your mind, Miss Harcourt?” His nervousness hadn’t abated; every muscle in his body felt taut and ready to snap. Why? Surely dancing with her wasn’t the reason. He’d been alone in her company before without stress.

  “Not a chance.” She slipped her fingers into his palm. “I haven’t danced for ages.”

  He escorted her onto a clear space on the floor amidst other couples doing the same. Catty corner to his location, Royce and his bride-to-be waited for the waltz to begin. There was no sign of his parents. “Did you enjoy the exercise?”

  “Oh, yes. As Jonas says of things, it was jolly fun.” A hint of sadness clouded her eyes that were a pretty hazel in the candlelight. “When my father died and the debt collectors came, there were no more parties or chances to dance.” Her hand trembled in his as he maneuvered her into the proper position. “Then my mother married the baron, and suddenly we were swept back into society whenever he went to London.”

  “You didn’t dance then? Surely you were invited to routs and soirees before you married.” Had her voice always sounded so magical? Why had he never noticed?

  “I observed mourning for a rather extended period for my father.” She pressed her lips together, and his notice dropped to her mouth. What would it take for her to smile once more? “After, I didn’t like being seen in society with him.” The delicate tendons of her throat worked with a hard swallow. “Then I married, and my time was taken up with keeping my tiny house in the country and spending time with my husband whenever he was home on leave from the fighting.” Her gaze found his. “There’s no time for frivolity during war, especially for a soldier’s wife.”

  “Then I’ll make certain you enjoy tonight doubly.” She’d endured so much heartbreak and trauma in her life that she deserved nothing but happiness and hope. How much did he want to be the one who gave it to her?

  Her serene smile nearly undid him. “What of you, Cecil? Do you enjoy it?”

  “It all depends on the partner.” The same could be said for many wonderful things. When the first strains of the waltz echoed through the room, he swept her into movement, and her peal of unexpected laughter tugged at his
heart.

  “I’d forgotten how much fun this is,” she whispered. Joy shone in her eyes and curved her lips into a wider smile.

  “As have I.” To his great surprise, Cecil discovered he was, indeed, enjoying himself. As they went about the polished parquet floor and her skirts swirled about his legs, he gave himself over to the sensations assailing him.

  The warmth of her in his arms had him yearning to experience that more often. When she laughed, the merry sound of it sank into his soul and took up residence there, taking a piece of him for her own. Her happiness was contagious, and soon he smiled for no other reason than he adored watching her. Their movements together were as light as circling inside a boxing ring but rewarding in a different way. Whereas he took satisfaction in beating an opponent, the reward for seeing Louisa alight with joy was... undefinable, as if he’d reached an unseen pinnacle in his life and wanted to shout about it from the rooftops. She’d grown into her confidence, and it looked amazing on her.

  “You’re quite dashing tonight in your finery,” she whispered, intruding into his thoughts, and sending him ever deeper into the intrigue that was her. “I’d say you clean up well.”

  “Not as well as you.” Cecil dared to pull her a few inches closer. Beneath the illuminated chandelier, her eyes gleamed more green than brown, and he desperately wished to know why. Was it enjoyment of the dance or being with him that had her feeling strong emotion? “You’re like a princess.”

  “Possibly, which means once it’s over, I’ll return to my previous existence of drudgery and fear; tonight will be naught but a dream.”

  “Not if you don’t wish it.” What the devil did that mean?

  Worry clouded her expression. “Thank you for bringing me here. It’s perfect and something I’ll remember forever. No doubt I’ll try painting a few scenes from tonight once I’m home.”

  If she were his, he’d commission England’s finest artists to make likenesses of her as she looked in that flattering gown. “You should have many more outings like this.” At one of the turns, he pulled her closer until her thighs brushed his and her breasts glanced against his chest. Tiny fires lit in his blood, and he acknowledged another truth. He wanted this woman more than he wanted a win in the boxing ring. “Fear and hiding are not a life, Louisa. You’re meant for so much more.”