by Claudia Dain
Sophia Dalby. Of course it was. It could have been no one else. She fit every description Jane had ever heard of her, and she’d heard at least two dozen during her lifetime.
“You know each other?” Penelope said, Iveston coming up behind her in the same instant and putting his hand upon her waist. Truly, she would not have thought it possible that Iveston, an Englishman and, what’s more, a marquis, would have so much overt affection in him. Particularly as the rumor of him, gleaned without any effort at all from Eleanor, was that Iveston had been considered by one and all to be a most peculiar fellow, the sort who rarely spoke and even more rarely left his house.
Penelope had, it was concluded by one and all, worked nothing short of a miracle upon him. Penelope, from Jane’s brief interaction with her, seemed just the sort to achieve one. She was a most direct, forthright sort of girl, just the sort that Jane had always preferred. Of course, it could be argued that Louisa was equally direct, but it wasn’t at all an attractive quality in her. She misused it somehow, of that Jane was instinctively certain.
“I’ve heard stories about Sophia, Lady Dalby, all my life,” Jed replied.
“Darling,” Sophia said with a languid and inviting smile,
“I can’t possibly be that old.” Casting her gaze to Penelope, Sophia said, “We met briefly two years ago, when Captain Elliot was on his return from his first trip to China. But I have not had the pleasure of meeting the other Elliots. Mr.
Joel Elliot, is it?” Sophia turned her dark-eyed gaze upon Joel with the grace and scrutiny of a hawk. Joel reacted appropriately.
“It is, ma’am,” Joel said, bowing with all the crispness of a boy just put to sea, his smile taking over his whole face.
Sophia was exactly as described, exactly. Which did put Jane in mind of just what Sophia might be able to accomplish on her behalf. “Though it’s captain as well. My first ship, my first time in a London port, my first meeting of the famous Sophia Dalby.”
Joel’s mouth was clearly running away with him. The next thing would be for him to start peeling off his coat.
Men. As if Sophia Dalby would want anything to do with a boy like Joel, or even Jed. Oh, they were men by every acceptable standard, but Jane was more than certain that Sophia Dalby had more exacting standards regarding men than most. Quite right of her, too.
Jane moved fractionally and stepped on Joel’s foot nearly as hard as she could.
“My sister, Miss Jane Elliot,” Joel said, cocking his head sharply, in response to her foot, likely. She could step quite firmly, as the occasion called for it. It called for it quite often, as it happened. “She insisted that as I was coming to London she be allowed to grab a ride across. I’m going to leave her here while I go on to China.”
Still blathering, but as Sophia was looking her over quite carefully and seemed to be listening very closely to what Joel was saying, Jane let him blather on. One of the many things her mother said about Sophia was that she had an unparalleled ability to make things happen and to make them happen to her advantage. If Jane could manage for Sophia to want something for her, such as a prolonged adventure in England, then there was hardly any doubt at all that Sophia would see it done.
“She was going to spend a few months with Aunt Molly,” Joel said, still blathering, poor dear, “perhaps see a bit of England, and then return to New York on the first Elliot ship. Now that Jed’s here, she’ll be going back sooner than any of us thought.”
“And I’m to suffer for it,” Jane said, cutting Joel off out of pure necessity. The way he was going on, he’d still be talking an hour from now, and still saying very little. “I thought I might be here for at least part of the Season, but we had a leak belowdecks on the larboard and had to stop at Nantucket for repairs.”
As Sophia was looking at her with blatant encouragement and not a little interest, Jane continued. She was going to win Sophia to her cause. She simply had to. How else to get what she wanted and to thumb her nose at Louisa in the bargain?
“Then we spent two weeks in the Azores, and now I’ve come to find the Season is nearly over and Jed ready to ferry me off. Arriving for Iveston and Penelope’s wedding has been a wonderful thrill, but it seems that it’s all that’s allowed me.”
A blatant bid for pity and aid, but she was that determined to stay.
“How absurd,” Sophia said. Jane felt a thrill that reached her toes. She was going to stay. She was going to have her adventure and Louisa was going to choke on it. “I know Molly would love to have you for a year. There is no need to rush off simply because your brothers must.”
“We promised our father,” Jed said, which was so typical of him. Jane could almost recite his lines for him, like something out of a play.
“And your mother, too, I should expect,” Sophia countered, “but they could hardly have known that Miss Elliot would not have any time at all to experience the joys and intrigues of London Society.”
Penelope made some noise, drawing Jane’s attention, which had to have been intentional, and made some movement of her eyes and mouth that indicated . . . what? Concern? Alarm? Excitement? Perhaps all three, and perhaps nothing at all. Jane glanced at Penelope, raised her brows slightly, and returned her gaze to Sophia.
“Intrigues?” Jane asked.
“Joys?” Joel said.
“Father?” Jed reminded them all. As if anyone could ever forget Father. But he was in New York. What could he do about anything in London?
“There isn’t much use in mentioning fathers to Lady Dalby,” Iveston said, his brilliant blue eyes shining in mirth. “She simply ignores their existence when there is an intrigue at her fingertips.”
An intrigue? Was there an intrigue? Sophia cast another glance at Jane, drawing her in, her black eyes abounding in humor. Oh, yes, there was an intrigue, and Jane was hip deep in it with Sophia Dalby. She couldn’t have been happier.
“Lord Iveston, you are utterly wrong,” Sophia said, smiling. Her smile was for Jane, of that she was certain.
“I never ignore fathers. I give them the most careful and most studious attention,” she said. After a moment’s pause, she continued, “And then I do what I want with their tacit approval, even if their knowledge of what they are approving is a bit faulty.”
And upon those words, Penelope coughed lightly and looked at the floor. Jane was instantly even more intrigued than she had been a moment before.
Intrigued . . .
Did intriguing with Sophia lead to marriage? That was not at all to be desired. She wanted to stay and she wanted to test the boundaries of her freedom, but to somehow find herself married, and to an Englishman, for what else was there in London, that was not at all what she wanted. Marriage would end what little freedom she currently enjoyed.
Would a husband allow her to make a spontaneous trip across the Atlantic? Hardly likely. Brothers were trouble enough to manage. A husband gave every indication of being far worse.
“I could never achieve Father’s approval,” Jane said.
“He’s not here and Jed won’t move from his promise. I’ve tried.”
“I haven’t tried,” Sophia said softly, smiling up at Jed.
Jed shook his head again and again, but he was smiling even as he shook.
Jane knew what that meant. Indeed, it was hardly possible that anyone could miss it. She was going to stay in England. She was nearly completely certain. She was, in the blink of an eye, involved in a minor intrigue with Sophia Dalby.
Perfectly well and good. But she was not going to marry an Englishman, if that’s what Sophia had in mind. Jane was quite firm about that, and would bring it up to Sophia directly, if the occasion ever called for it.
“And on that promising note, I do believe there is a cousin of mine you must meet,” Iveston said, his hand firmly on Penelope’s arm.
“Who?” Penelope said, staring hard at first Sophia and then Jane and then at Jed and then back to Jane. She was trying to
communicate something, but Jane couldn’t determine what. Likely that she should be wary of conspiring an intrigue with Sophia, but Jane already knew that. She’d heard more than one story about Sophia over the years; she wasn’t a complete dolt.
“Quite distant,” Iveston said, his hand tightening as his grin widened. “Can’t quite recall the name. Do come, Pen.
We mustn’t linger where we aren’t wanted.”
“Aren’t wanted? Are you mad, Iveston? ’Tis our own wedding! Of course we’re wanted.”
But she said the last as Iveston was dragging her off, Penelope’s brother, George Prestwick, shaking his head at them from across the wide room. George, whom she’d shared a single meal with and nothing more, seemed a most genial sort, which was not precisely how she would have described Penelope. No, not at all.
“She can’t stay,” Jed said, which pulled her gaze from George Prestwick, a most handsome man of black hair and black eyes who looked very much like his sister, back onto her brother, who did not look good to her at all at the moment.
Jed was such a stubborn sort. She couldn’t think where he’d got it from. “Not without someone to watch over her.”
Yes, well, that was the entire problem. Too much watching. She was a grown woman, not a dribbling infant.
“She’s not without family in Town,” Sophia said.
“All men,” Jed said.
“Yes, darling. All men,” Sophia said with a soft smile aimed directly at Jed. He seemed to wilt a bit and then flush about the throat. “Men are so very careful, so very attentive to a beautiful woman, but not quite so attentive when that woman is their sister. Now, while these men, these close cousins of yours, are men, they also have wives.
I don’t suppose you’d trust them?”
“New wives,” Jed said stiffly, his flush fading somewhat.
Sophia laughed softly and tapped Jed’s folded arms with her fan. He flushed again. Merciful heavens, everything she’d ever heard, and a good deal that had merely been implied, was being proved true in less than ten minutes in Sophia’s presence. She was the most artful manager of men that Jane had ever seen, not that she had seen much of that sort of thing in her life. New York was a bustling city, but did not boast many women of Sophia Dalby’s range. As to that, Jane doubted there were any. Surely she would have heard something by now.
“Darling,” Sophia breathed, taking in both Jed and Joel with her gaze, “trust an experienced man of the sea to see things so clearly, and to be so unafraid to state the situation so boldly. I am quite breathless. One does grow accustomed to the British way of doing things, but you have reminded me, most powerfully, how compelling American men can be. How long did you say you were staying?”
Jed looked nearly tongue-tied, and Joel completely so. Jane was nearly quivering with delight. Never in her memory had anyone so effortlessly rendered her brothers impotent, even for a moment. Certainly Mother and Father had tried, but they had only achieved their brief successes after repeated and energetic endeavor. This, this was superbly astounding. Jane wanted to learn how to do it immediately. She was certain it would make life much more pleasant, with husband or without one. After all, one had to deal with men regularly in this life. Better to do it with an arsenal of weapons than without. Sophia clearly had a full arsenal and used her weapons with both skill and grace, as well as without hesitation, which is precisely how any sort of weapon should be used.
Jane, far from wanting to inject herself into this duel, kept her mouth closed and her eyes open.
It was while her eyes were thus open that two gentlemen were added to their number. Jane’s eyes opened even wider as they were introduced.
The Duke of Edenham walked into their circle of conversation as if he had every right to enter where and when he chose. Dukes were like that, according to every rumor of them. This duke was quite tall, quite handsome, and quite elegant looking, if one liked the type. Having never been exposed to his type before she was withholding judgment. He was very handsome. He also did not seem at all overawed by her brothers, which was refreshing. In New York, there were very few men who would risk anything at all with her for fear of her brothers’ comeuppance. Such a nuisance, really. Her brothers were always at sea. What sort of squeamish man lived in fear of what would happen six months in the future? Life in New York was far more dull than it should have been. She blamed her brothers entirely.
The second gentleman was the Marquis of Ruan, a most dangerous and rugged-looking man, not nearly as elegantly arranged as the Duke of Edenham, but handsome nonetheless, though in a more ruthless fashion entirely.
It was perfectly obvious that Sophia was well acquainted with both men. Jane would hardly have expected anything less.
The introductions having been made, the immediate result being that Jed had escaped from Sophia’s highly focused attention, Jed then gave every indication that he was going to leave this newly arranged circle of conversation and drag her with him. She was not ready to leave.
Sophia hadn’t got her way yet, had she? Which meant that Jane hadn’t got her way. She was going to stay, and she wasn’t going to leave Sophia’s side until it was formally decided that she was to remain in London.
Jane put the most innocent look upon her face, for her brothers’ benefit, obviously, and ignored both the duke and the marquis. But the duke was staring at her with the most peculiar expression on his face. His odd behavior was not helping her at all.
She ignored him more pointedly.
He continued to stare.
Joel shifted his weight and rolled his shoulders a bit.
Oh, mercy.
Looking innocent and disinterested was not putting the duke off one bit. How very like a duke to behave as he pleased and attempt to ruin her plans in such thoughtless fashion. Could he not go off and bother some other poor girl? Some girl who did not have two brothers at her elbows?
“Edenham,” Sophia said, “I’m so delighted to see you here. And your enchanting sister, she is with you?”
“Yes,” the Duke of Edenham replied, turning his gaze from Jane just long enough to make eye contact with Sophia, cast a quick glance over Jed and Joel, and then look into her eyes. He had lovely eyes, a warm shade of brown, and quite a nice brow. She averted her gaze after noting only the most obvious details of his appearance, which she would argue quite forcefully if Jed said one word about it, and then turned to stare with bland attention at Joel. Joel rolled his shoulders again and kept his gaze on Edenham.
Edenham kept his gaze upon her. The stupidity of dukes was thus proved. “A cause for celebration. We wish Hyde nothing but joy.”
Sophia smiled and said, “With three sons married within a single Season, I can assure you that they feel nothing but joy. And with the happy addition of the Elliots to share in their joy, why, what can they do but smile away their days?
Which brings me back round to you, darling,” Sophia said to Jed, laying her gloved hand upon his arm in a light caress.
“Surely you must allow Miss Elliot to stay and partake of the general joy to be found within Hyde House. I assure you that she will be well cared for.”
It was perhaps not the ideal thing to say to sway Jed to release them all from their father’s instructions. Only a little over a day in London, within the very walls of Hyde House, and the Elliots had heard word of how three of Hyde’s sons had come to be married in a single Season.
The word was ruin.
No one seemed especially bothered by it, certainly not the sons, yet neither were their wives, which was most strange, wasn’t it? Of all the things she had been told about the British, their odd habits and proclivities, a facility and easiness about being ruined was not among them.
“Not as well cared for as upon an Elliot ship,” Jed said, which was likely very true.
“Truly?” Sophia said brightly, her gaze almost resolutely removed from the Marquis of Ruan. Jane began to wonder if Sophia was not on the most cordial of
terms with the man, which would not surprise her in the least as some of what her mother had told her about Sophia left no doubt that Sophia could and did make a very firm enemy and that her enemies were entirely deserving of the position. Jane gave Lord Ruan a cold look of bland curiosity at the thought. “No storms?” Sophia continued. “No violent waves? No enemy ships? No contrary currents? No pirates?
What has quiet and serene Hyde House to offer by way of excitement that an Elliot ship cannot merely match but overmatch?”
“Men?” Joel said. Jed gave him an approving look, annoyed but approving.
“British men, most assuredly,” Sophia said, casting a casual glance in the general direction of both Edenham and Ruan. Edenham blinked and continued to stare at her.
Ruan’s mouth tightened, against a smile or a grimace Jane could not determine. “But what is that? Certainly they are not to be feared. Or do you think otherwise, Captain?”
Well, then, there was a pretty insult, and delivered so sweetly, too. Jed looked properly angered. Joel did not appear angry so much as bewildered by the sudden turn the conversation had taken. As to that, Jane felt much the same. Is this how Sophia got what she wanted? By insults?
She had not heard that about her. Not at all.
“In the proper circumstances, it is wise to consider any man with due caution,” Jed said stiffly, eyeing both Edenham and Ruan. Edenham ignored him. Ruan returned the look and nodded sharply.
“And what of improper circumstances?” Sophia said. “I do confess to having more experience of men in improper circumstances.”
“If we are speaking of English men, then I must confess the same,” Jed said, smiling slightly.
“Captain Elliot, you shock me. I am intrigued,” Sophia said, smiling, and raising her fan to obscure her face, which naturally resulted in all the men, Edenham excluded, staring with increased intensity at her. Jane needed a better fan, if only to shield herself from Edenham’s obsessive gaze. It was becoming something of an embarrassment to her, and was not at all helpful with her brothers standing at her elbow and witnessing his complete break from polite behavior. Or what she assumed was polite behavior. The two countries could not be that different, could they? “Please, tell me all,” Sophia urged. “Is it improper circumstances to which you refer, or improper men? Or is it the extreme Englishness of both which results in the impropriety?”
