The Ice Captain's Daughter

by S. G. Rogers

“I don’t know about that, but I’ve never seen you look more beautiful.”

  “Thank you. It’s a far cry from my mud-smeared traveling suit, isn’t it?”

  “The mud was rather endearing, actually.” A long silence ensued. “Are you…” He paused for a moment before clearing his throat. “Have you definitely made up your mind against me, Miss Roring?”

  Her eyes grew wide. “What do you mean?”

  Logan took her hand. At the touch of her bare skin, his heart began to pound.

  “You rejected my proposal before because you believed me to be indifferent. Will you give me the opportunity to convince you otherwise?”

  Her blue eyes seemed to look straight into his soul. “I can think of nothing that would give me more pleasure.”

  His fingertips worshipped the contour of her cheek and traced a path to her mouth.

  “I could scarcely taste my food tonight, thinking about kissing these lips,” he murmured.

  “I could scarcely draw breath, wishing that you would.”

  His head bent toward hers, but before their lips met a voice rang out from down the hall.

  “Jillian, we need you for cards.”

  Disappointment was written on Jillian’s features. “Yes, Aunt Letty. I shall be in directly.”

  Logan kissed Jillian with undisguised passion. I defy her to label me indifferent now! It took all his strength to step back. “You’d better go in.”

  Jillian swayed toward him a moment before following her aunt’s footsteps. Logan breathed in the cool nighttime air as he stared at the moon.

  I love her.

  Jillian floated down the hallway, fairly bursting with happiness. Mr. Logan means to court me, without any sense of obligation or pity this time. Her lips tingled deliciously from her first kiss. Her behavior would not be considered proper, of course, but Jillian could not bring herself to regret letting Logan take the liberty. In fact, I hope he does it again as soon as possible!

  As she was seated at the card table, she wondered if anyone else could perceive the happiness she felt inside. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Logan enter the parlor. She forced her attention onto her cards, lest anyone notice her blush. Would he pay her a call tomorrow afternoon? Jillian mentally went through her wardrobe, trying to decide which frock he would like best. She hadn’t yet worn the low-cut afternoon dress the same color as her eyes. Its neckline made the most of her long, slender neck and décolleté. She smiled with anticipation.

  I can hardly wait.

  Aunt Letty and Jillian arose early the next morning to attend a ladies’ breakfast. Alice helped Jillian dress in a modest dove gray and white blouse with a matching gray skirt. As the maid brushed out her hair, Jillian examined her reflection in the mirror. Slight smudges underneath her eyes revealed her lack of sleep, but she didn’t mind in the least. All night long a sense of giddiness had consumed her. It was as if she’d bathed in champagne and her skin was still tingling from the bubbles.

  Is this what being in love is like? If so, I want more.

  Jillian hurried downstairs, where her aunt waiting in the parlor.

  “Good morning, Aunt Letty!” Jillian’s smile was broad.

  “Good morning, Jillian. The carriage is being brought around just now.” Aunt Letty peered at her. “You certainly are in a good mood today.”

  “I had a wonderful time at Mrs. Bleak’s dinner party.”

  “I suspect Mr. Logan can take credit for your ebullience.”

  “Oh, Aunt, he means to woo me!”

  “After that kiss, I should hope so.”

  Jillian felt her face burning. “You saw?”

  “No, but I suspected as much. Congratulations, my dear. It’s not every girl who gets engaged in her first Season.”

  “Let us not get ahead of ourselves, Aunt!”

  As Aunt Letty’s carriage set off, Jillian smiled at anyone passing by, including street venders and policemen. Her aunt pretended not to notice. After a short journey, their carriage joined the queue at Lady Wimpel’s home on the outskirts of Mayfair.

  “My heavens, I didn’t realize there would be so many guests,” Jillian said.

  “Lady Wimpel knows everybody who’s anybody. She rang me up personally to make sure you and I would be attending. It seems she’s eager to meet the young lady who has taken London by storm.”

  “I can’t think who she means.”

  Aunt Letty chuckled. “Your modesty does you credit.” She paused. “Your mother was considered a great beauty as well. I was proud to be her elder sister, and I’m proud to be your aunt.”

  Jillian squeezed her hand. “And I’m lucky to be your niece.”

  Although she tried not to gape when she was admitted to Lady Wimpel’s home, Jillian found it difficult. The magnificent home was of classic Grecian design, complete with polished marble and tasteful artwork, and the guests had turned out in their best attire. When she spied a young matron wearing glittering jewels, Jillian suddenly wondered if her own attire wasn’t too plain.

  Aunt Letty followed her gaze. “Oh, dear,” she whispered. “It’s too early for diamonds, but Mrs. Stillwood is new money and always tries overly hard.”

  Lady Wimpel was at the entrance of the ballroom, greeting her guests as they entered. When Aunt Letty introduced her to Jillian, the woman gave her a warm smile.

  “Now I understand what has the gentlemen all in uproar,” she said. “The loveliest hothouse orchid cannot compare to you, Miss Roring.”

  At such effusive praise, Jillian felt the blood rush to her cheeks.

  “I thank you, Lady Wimpel. It’s an honor to make your acquaintance.”

  “Such pretty manners. You and your aunt are seated at my table, my dear.”

  A servant escorted Jillian and Aunt Letty to the round table for twelve at one end of the hall. To Jillian’s dismay, Sophia and her mother were already seated there. Was it her imagination, or did Sophia and Mrs. Watkins exchange a sly glance as she approached?

  “Good morning,” Sophia sang out. “Come sit next to me, Jillian. I want to hear all your news, and then I shall tell you mine.”

  Privately, Jillian had no interest in exchanging confidences with Sophia, but she smiled nevertheless. The breakfast was more like a banquet, with all manner of elaborately prepared dishes. Baskets of breads and muffins had been set out on the table, along with butter and marmalade. Servants appeared at Jillian’s elbow at frequent intervals with delightful offerings such as bacon, pheasant pie, sausage, ham, kippers, haddock in puff pastry, deviled kidneys, and eggs cooked several different ways. Jillian’s delicate china cup was continuously replenished with tea, although Aunt Letty took coffee instead. Sophia drank hot chocolate, and the fragrance kept wafting in Jillian’s direction.

  Lady Wimpel entertained the table with stories about her recent sojourn to Paris. Jillian hadn’t exchanged more than a few words with Sophia during the entire meal, and began to think she would be able to forego the pleasure entirely. When she excused herself to go freshen up, unfortunately Sophia decided to accompany her.

  “I adore your dress,” Sophia said as they left the ballroom. “Its plainness draws attention to your face.”

  Jillian bit her tongue at the back-handed compliment. “Thank you, Sophia. Tell me, have you been riding of late?”

  “No, but I went to a ball last night.”

  “I’m certain it was great fun.”

  “Yes, but I did hear a bit of information I thought you should know.”

  Without warning, Sophia grabbed Jillian’s wrist, pulled her into the nearby library, and shut the door. “Has Mr. Logan called on you?”

  “Er…why do you ask?”

  “At the ball last night, I overheard an interesting conversation. It seems you are the focus of a wager amongst the gentlemen.”

  “What?”

  “Apparently Mr. Logan is considered the favorite to win your affections. I know from personal experience just how competitive he can be.”

&nb
sp; If Sophia had thrown a glass of cold water in Jillian’s face, she couldn’t have been more shocked.

  “I-I simply cannot believe it, Sophia. You must have heard it wrong.”

  “Sir James and Lord Yardley are part of the wager, too. Have you by chance received a call from them?”

  Jillian glanced away.

  “Ha! I knew it. And that’s not all…they’ve nicknamed you Ice Princess.” Sophia giggled. “I’m not entirely certain it was a compliment.”

  Moisture began to sting Jillian’s eyes. “You’ve said enough, Sophia.”

  “I’m terribly sorry, but it’s best you learn of Mr. Logan’s deceit from a friend before he has the opportunity to take advantage of you.” She paused. “If it’s any consolation, Mr. Logan won the wager last year too—with his engagement to me.”

  Jillian turned away from Sophia just as a teardrop rolled down her cheek. She wiped it away surreptitiously with trembling fingers.

  “Thank you for telling me. I’d like to be alone for a moment, if you don’t mind.”

  “Oh, dear, you’re upset. I’m only trying to spare you my fate, Jillian.”

  Sophia opened the library door and disappeared. Jillian sank into a chair. Her emotions waved from disbelief to fury and back again, much like a game of lawn tennis. Sophia is inventing a falsehood! Since she wishes to secure Mr. Logan for herself, she has every reason to separate me from him. Her assertions cannot be believed. On the other hand, how could Sophia know Lord Yardley and Sir James had come to call unless she’d heard it from someone in their inner circle? No…it must be true! So they mock me with the name of Ice Princess, do they? Was it Mr. Logan who dreamed up the endearment? He has been discussing me with his friends, using our prior acquaintance to gain a hidden advantage in a game of sport. I clearly did not conceal how I felt about him well enough and he played upon those feelings last night. How utterly despicable of him! I’m such a stupid fool, and I’ve characterized Sophia unfairly.

  By the time Jillian returned to the ballroom, the breakfast banquet had concluded and half the guests had already departed. Aunt Letty rushed over, a worried look on her face.

  “Are you all right, dear? When Miss Watkins returned to the table without you, I became concerned.”

  “Yes, Aunt. I just have a headache. Let us say our good-byes. I’d like to go home.”

  Logan bolted from his bed with a surge of energy. His feeling of elation made it difficult to eat breakfast. Instead, he went riding in Hyde Park, letting Tuxano gallop to his heart’s content. He would have liked nothing better than to pay a call to Miss Roring afterward, but propriety dictated he wait until late afternoon. As the morning passed, Logan debated the best way to woo Miss Roring. Should he ask her to accompany him to a large, public event such as the opera or the symphony? Or would it be better to begin in a more intimate setting, such as an author reading, lunch at a café, or an art show at a small gallery? So many possibilities tumbled through his mind, he could not arrive at a conclusion. He finally elected to suggest a few outings and let Miss Roring decide according to her taste.

  When he contemplated the quirk of fate that had brought her into his life, he could not believe his good fortune. Considering his despair a few short weeks ago, the contrast was marked and profound. Had she traveled with him to London, Mrs. Lyman would have laughed to see him so chipper and cheerful. I could spend a lifetime admiring Miss Roring and it would not be enough time to show her how completely she has captured my heart. When he compared his current feelings with those he’d had for Sophia, he was ashamed. He’d been so caught up in the chase last Season, he’d not perceived Sophia’s fickle and deceitful nature. Back then, he’d cursed fate at the ruins of his engagement, unaware that he’d been taken into fate’s benevolent bosom.

  He jotted off a note of thanks for the dinner party to his cousin Caroline. He sent one of his servants to deliver it, along with a robust bouquet of dark pink roses to convey his gratitude. Although he didn’t mention Miss Roring in the letter, he wished he could compliment Caroline what role she herself had played in his current happiness. The memory of the kiss he’d exchanged with Miss Roring was still fresh on his lips. He felt so magnanimous, after he’d donned a fresh suit in which to call on Miss Roring, Logan gave Ian the rest of the night off.

  Along the way to Eaton Square, Logan stopped his hired cab at the flower stand on the corner. He agonized between choosing purple lilacs to reveal his first emotions of love or light pink roses, to convey his passion. He finally selected the lilacs, so as not to seem presumptuous. The fresh lilacs were nothing to Miss Roring’s perfection, of course, but perhaps she would welcome a token of his esteem. As the Hansom cab pulled up in front of Mrs. Marsh’s townhouse, Logan asked the driver to wait. He bounded up the steps, rang the doorbell, and straightened his cravat. A few moments later, the housekeeper opened the door, took his card, and showed him into the drawing room. Unable to relax, Logan paced a bit. He felt rather foolish with the lilacs still clutched in his hand, but he wanted to give them to Miss Roring personally.

  Jillian’s aunt entered the drawing room with an expression so somber Logan’s smile faded instantly.

  “Mrs. Marsh, are you unwell?”

  “Perfectly so, Mr. Logan. I regret to inform you that neither Miss Roring nor I will be receiving you today or any time in the future. Have I made myself clear?”

  Chapter Nine

  Lord Archie

  A CLAMMY CHILL SPREAD from the top of Logan’s head to the soles of his feet.

  “I’m sorry, but I don’t understand you. What has happened?”

  Jillian appeared in the doorway just then. Her color was extremely pale and her eyes red and slightly swollen, as if from weeping. Panic seized Logan’s heart.

  “Miss Roring, what is wrong?”

  “Aunt Letty, will you leave us for a few moments?”

  “Are you sure?”

  At Jillian’s nod, Aunt Letty gave Logan one last, withering look and left.

  “For Heaven’s sake, Miss Roring, tell me what is troubling you!” Logan exclaimed.

  He tried to keep the pleading note from his voice, but he was unsuccessful. He laid the lilacs on the mantle and crossed to Jillian, but she held up her hands to keep him at bay.

  “I have been informed that a wager has been placed on who will be the first to win my favor. For you to treat my feelings in such a shabby manner is cruel. I will not be treated like a racehorse, Mr. Logan, and I beg you not to have any further contact with me.”

  Logan stared at her, aghast. “Who told you this?”

  “That is unimportant. Do you deny it?”

  “Yes, I deny it insofar as my involvement! There was some good-natured discussion of a wager, but I refused to be part of it, I assure you. You may ask Mr. Hawkins for confirmation.”

  “I would expect him to take your part in this, since he is your friend.”

  “He is a gentleman and would not lie for me or anyone else!”

  “Just like you didn’t lie to me about the truth of your broken engagement to Miss Watkins?”

  “She told you?”

  Jillian’s chin lifted. “I also discovered my nickname amongst your acquaintances is Ice Princess.”

  Logan was astonished. “It was meant as the highest compliment, I assure you.”

  “I’m sorry to snatch your erstwhile victory away, Mr. Logan. I’m sure my conquest would have added greatly to your reputation as a rake.”

  Logan picked up his hat.

  “I can see there is no convincing you of my innocence in this business. You paint me unfairly, Miss Roring. Before I leave, let me say that my intentions toward you have always been sincere and wholesome.”

  But Jillian merely whirled around and fled the drawing room, leaving Logan to find his way out. Numb, he stumbled down the stairs to the sidewalk, narrowly avoiding disaster by gripping the handrail. The Hansom driver jumped from the cab.

  “Are you all right, Guv’nor?”
/>   Logan nodded and allowed the man to guide him into the cab.

  “Take me to White’s.”

  “Straightaway.”

  The idea of drinking in the company of whoever had betrayed him suddenly seemed unappealing.

  “On second thought, take me to Boodle’s.”

  Jillian took her place at the table when she was called to dinner, but the food on her plate remained untouched. Aunt Letty gave her niece a sympathetic glance.

  “You must eat a little. You’ll need your strength at the ball tonight.”

  “I will be horrible company. Can I not beg off?”

  “You do not want to give offense, my dear. It’s the Duke and Duchess of Rochester.”

  “I’m a mess, Aunt. My skin is blotchy and my eyes are red. How am I ever to appear presentable?”

  “You’ll have a nice hot bath. Afterward, a little powder, a bit of rouge, and some lip pomade will perk up your looks. A burnt matchstick will darken your lashes, too.”

  “Aunt Letty!”

  Her aunt gave her a mischievous look. “There is not a lady worth her salt who does not resort to a little help now and again. Besides, Jillian, you cannot give the gossips free rein. If knowledge of that silly wager is widespread, your disheartened demeanor will confirm Mr. Logan broke your heart. Is that what you want?”

  “No.”

  When Jillian’s eyes began to swim with tears again, Aunt Letty patted her hand.

  “That’s enough of that. If Her Majesty can bear up under the grief of losing her husband, you can forge through your current distress.”

  “But in fact the queen does not bear her loss well. She’s been in mourning these past thirty-eight years.”

  “Oh well, you understand my meaning. Now eat something and I’ll have Alice bring you a glass of champagne while you’re in the bath.”

  Morose, Logan sat in front of one of the fireplaces in Boodle’s and nursed his gin. The day had begun in a spectacular fashion and had ended in disaster. Miss Roring could not have intimate knowledge of what had transpired in White’s unless someone who’d been there had told her. Only the culprit had twisted the words so they’d taken on a sinister overtone. One of his friends had betrayed him, but why? The biggest mystery, however, was how Miss Roring had known his broken engagement was a deception. The only people who knew the actual events were himself, Sophia…and her lover. As a gentleman, Logan had allowed Sophia to announce publicly she’d jilted him. Most certainly she would not have freely confessed otherwise to anyone, since to do so would mean her absolute downfall.