The Ice Captain's Daughter

by S. G. Rogers

  Vicar Lewis was chatting with Sophia nearby, gazing at her with slavish adoration. Although Jillian’s first impulse was to laugh at Sophia’s pained expression, she took pity on her instead.

  “Excuse me, Vicar, but I must beg Miss Watkins’ assistance,” Jillian said. “Sophia, Miss Smith is waiting for you in the ladies’ sitting room. I believe she needs your help with her hair.”

  “Oh, thank you, Jillian.” Sophia’s gratitude was heartfelt. “I shall go to Miss Smith’s aid immediately.”

  To the vicar’s obvious disappointment, Sophia hastened off.

  Sophia slipped into the ladies’ sitting room and found an unoccupied mirror. She smoothed her hair, straightened her gown, and checked her teeth. She was about to step out from behind the wooden screen when she heard her name mentioned.

  “Did you see Miss Roring rescue Miss Watkins from Vicar Lewis just now?”

  “I saw the whole thing! If only Miss Roring knew what Miss Watkins is saying about her, she wouldn’t be so kind.”

  “Sophia Watkins ought to be ashamed of herself.”

  “I don’t think she cares. Look at the way she jilted Mr. Logan. Her heart must be a lump of black coal.”

  Sophia turned back toward the mirror. Although her toilette was immaculate, she frowned.

  “Look, Jillian, there’s Mr. Logan with his friend,” Katie whispered. “They are heading this way.”

  Jillian flinched at Logan’s approach. The very sight of him excites my pulse and dulls my wits. It is not fair he should be so frightfully handsome!

  Logan stopped in front of Katie, with Hawkins close at hand.

  “My friend has expressed a wish to be acquainted with you, Miss Kelsey,” he said. “Hawkins, allow me to present Miss Kelsey. Miss Kelsey, this is Mr. Hawkins.”

  With a shy smile, Katie curtsied. “Hello, Mr. Hawkins.”

  “May I reserve a dance or two, Miss Kelsey?” Hawkins asked.

  Blushing furiously, Katie extended her dance card. Hawkins peered at it a moment and scribbled his name on three empty lines.

  “I cannot believe my luck. The next two dances are mine, as well as the ending Quadrille.”

  As Hawkins and Katie made small talk, Logan’s green eyes turned to Jillian.

  “Good evening, Miss Roring.”

  “Good evening, sir.”

  The coolness of her tone would have sent most men scurrying off, but Logan remained steadfast.

  “Would you allow me a waltz?”

  “I’m afraid that all my waltzes are spoken for.”

  “The Polka Esmeralda, then?”

  “I believe in fact my dance card is completely filled, Mr. Logan.”

  “Oh, that’s not so, Jillian,” Katie blurted. “I took a peek at your card and there are still a few spots open.”

  Although Logan’s slight smirk invited Jillian to slap his face, she restrained herself.

  “My mistake,” she said.

  She extended the card, and Logan glanced it over.

  “I say, that’s abominably rude of Archie to monopolize you.” He used his pencil to cross out Lord Archibald’s name and write his own instead. “The next dance is a waltz, and I claim it for myself.”

  “Mr. Logan!”

  “Yes, Miss Roring?”

  “You cannot be serious.”

  “I am perfectly so.”

  The quadrille ended. As Hawkins led Katie onto the dance floor, she cast an apologetic glance back at Jillian. Logan held out his gloved hand. “Shall we, Miss Roring?”

  Lord Archibald arrived just then.

  “Forgive me, Mackenzie, but the lady has promised this waltz to me.”

  His expression and tone were cordial, but underneath was an undercurrent of steel. Logan smiled pleasantly.

  “Perhaps so, Archie, but you may still content yourself with the six other dances she’s promised you. I beg you to yield.”

  Lord Archibald chuckled, but a muscle in his jaw quivered.

  “I shall not yield, and I would remind you to defer to your betters.”

  “Should I meet one of my betters, I would. Since it’s you, however, I need not bother.”

  To the casual onlooker, the two gentlemen were having a jovial conversation, but Jillian heard every word. In a rush to avoid a scene, she took Logan’s hand.

  “Please, Archie, let us indulge Mr. Logan this once.”

  Lord Archibald’s eyes peered at Logan, glittering with dislike. Nevertheless, he bowed to Jillian. “As you wish, Miss Roring.”

  Triumphant at last, Logan led Jillian out on the floor.

  “Have you lost your mind, sir?” she murmured.

  “That’s entirely possible.”

  “Your incivility toward Lord Archibald in his own home is breathtaking. What if he chooses to retaliate against you?”

  “He will not. It just so happens I hold a bit of information over his head that would inconvenience him greatly should it ever become publicly known.”

  Logan’s hand slid around her waist.

  “I’ve maneuvered to get you on the dance floor because I knew it was the only way you would listen to me.”

  The music commenced, and they began to dance together.

  “I’ve deduced it was Miss Watkins who told you of the supposed wager.”

  Jillian kept her eyes firmly fixed somewhere over Logan’s shoulder, unable to refute his assertion.

  “Although I do not know how she came by her information, she repeated it to you in its worst possible light,” he continued. “Trust me when I tell you that you are much admired by the gentlemen of London society, and much envied by the women.”

  Jillian’s chin lifted. “I think you mean I’m sneered at and reviled for being the daughter of a merchant.”

  “That is Sophia’s malice at work, Miss Roring. Like me, the gentlemen of my acquaintance hold the Ice Captain in high esteem.”

  “And my nickname? What do you have to say to that?”

  “I’ve already told you, Ice Princess was a term of the utmost admiration and an homage to Captain Roring. Sophia has twisted the whole of this entire business to damage any regard you might have for me.”

  “Why on Earth would she do such a thing?”

  “Because it was I who ended the engagement, Miss Roring, not her.”

  “What?”

  “I caught her in a compromising position with Lord Archibald. I broke our engagement and the scoundrel refused to marry her.”

  Jillian’s fingers tightened in Logan’s as she fought to keep her footing. His strong arms steadied her.

  “I never meant to reveal this to anyone, but Sophia has forced my hand,” he said.

  “H-How can I be certain you are not twisting the truth?”

  His dazzling smile grabbed her heart and held it fast, even as the waltz came to a close.

  “Reflect on your observations of the people involved and draw your own conclusions, Miss Roring.”

  The music ended. Logan escorted her back to Aunt Letty and bowed.

  “Thank you for the dance,” he said. “I hope to repeat the pleasure very soon.”

  As he walked away, Aunt Letty rose from her seat. “I could use some rum punch.”

  Jillian sampled the tangy cold liquid in the cup, shuddered, and handed it back to her aunt. “It’s too strong.”

  Aunt Letty sipped the punch. “It’s perfect.”

  “I noticed Mr. Logan speaking with you earlier.”

  “Yes, indeed. He told me a very scandalous tale as a matter of fact. From the expression on your face while you were dancing with him just now, I assume he related the same story to you.”

  “He did, and I’m bewildered. Do you suppose his story can be believed?”

  “Mr. Logan would be an incorrigible cad to blacken the names of Lord Archibald and Miss Watkins in such an infamous fashion. Since he has always acted in a respectable manner before, I must therefore conclude he is telling the truth.”

  “But Archie does not seem
wicked.”

  “How can you make a sound conclusion on such a short acquaintance?”

  “You are right, I cannot. There is no love lost between Mr. Logan and Archie, however. Only the thinnest veneer of civility prevented them from fisticuffs.”

  Aunt Letty’s face lit up.

  “To have two such men openly fight over you would set tongues wagging for years. It would be a quite a triumph.”

  “Oh, Aunt, don’t joke about such things. How am I to decide who is the better man?”

  Aunt Letty raised her cup in a toast.

  “Dance and be merry, Jillian. It will all become clear in the end.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Honor and Virtue

  IN THE FIRST HALF of the ball, Jillian danced twice with Lord Archibald and once with his father, Duke Rochester. Stares and whispers seemed to accompany her every movement. During the final lanciers before intermission, a girl deliberately trod on her dress. It was only by the swift intervention of Jillian’s partner, Mr. Loach, that the gown escaped damage.

  “Have a care, Miss Roring,” he said as he led her off the dance floor afterward. “It seems the knives have been sharpened.”

  “Oh, dear.”

  “It was the same with your mother, you know.”

  Jillian’s eyebrows lifted. “You knew my mother?”

  “Oh, yes, quite well. She was a great beauty and I was very fond of her. At one party, a certain young lady was so envious, she dropped a cup of tea on your mother’s white dress.”

  “What did my mother do?”

  “She sponged the tea off in the ladies’ sitting room and was very gracious about it.” He chuckled. “But her best revenge was in marrying your father.”

  Jillian laughed. “Papa will be in London shortly. He shall escort me to Lady Adams’s ball.”

  “And no doubt he will outshine all the other gentlemen in attendance.”

  A trio of young ladies surrounded Jillian just then, giggling. Although they had all been introduced to her throughout the evening, she didn’t know any of them particularly well.

  “I see it is time for me to leave you.” Mr. Loach bowed to Jillian. “Thank you for the dance.” He joined the crowd heading for the banquet hall.

  “Miss Roring, we are walking to the garden for some fresh air,” said Miss Dooney. “Will you accompany us?”

  “Erm…” Jillian glanced toward Aunt Letty, but her chair was empty. “Actually, a little fresh air would be welcome. As long as we stay together, I suppose no harm will arise.”

  After the warmth of the ballroom, the night air was refreshing. A full complement of stars accented the sky, and a warm spring breeze made the flowers dance.

  “Let’s go to the gazebo in the center,” suggested Miss Taylor. “There’s a beautiful view of the house from there.”

  As they walked, the girls peppered Jillian with questions about her gown and hair, which dance she’d enjoyed most, and whether or not any particular gentleman had caught her eye. Laughing, she answered their questions as best she could, but deflected the question about gentlemen.

  “I heard Lord Archibald kissed your hand.” Miss Byron sighed. “I would swoon if he kissed mine.”

  A waterfall of giggles accompanied her remarks. The path to the gazebo was circuitous, winding its way around several tall trees and shrubs. Jillian glanced back toward the house at one point, but a hedge obscured her view.

  “I’m glad you’re all with me. I should become lost out here in the dark,” she said.

  “It would be ever so much fun if we played hide and seek,” said Miss Dooney.

  “We don’t have time for that,” Jillian said. “The dancing resumes in another ten minutes.”

  Fortunately, the gazebo was just up ahead. The girls climbed the steps onto the round, wide platform and enjoyed the view of the well-lit mansion. Jillian leaned against the railing, closed her eyes, and breathed in the fragrance of the nearby roses.

  “This is such a beautiful home,” she said. “And I adore the garden.”

  Jillian turned around to see why no one had replied, but her companions had disappeared.

  Sophia and her mother lingered in the ballroom chatting with Lady Adams as the intermission began. A group of giggling girls suddenly herded an unsuspecting Jillian past. They left the ballroom through the doorway leading to the garden. Although neither Lady Adams nor Mrs. Watkins saw anything amiss, Sophia could guess what was about to transpire. She brushed off a pang of guilt. With a concerted effort, Sophia refocused her attention on Lady Adams, who was speaking about her own upcoming event.

  “The servants ran out of bees’ wax halfway through polishing the ballroom floor, can you believe it?”

  “Oh, no!” Mrs. Watkins exclaimed. “Were you able to buy more?”

  “Do you realize how difficult it is to procure bees’ wax during the Season? I had to send a servant out to our country house to retrieve a quantity from storage.”

  Without warning, Sophia stomped her foot. “Oh, bother.”

  “Indeed, it was,” Lady Adams said. “But it will all be worth it in the end.”

  “Excuse me, Lady Adams. Excuse me, Mum.” Sophia curtsied. “There is someone I must speak with.”

  “But, Sophia…”

  She hastened from the room, oblivious to her mother’s protests. The hallway was filled with people, and still more filled the banquet hall. Sophia craned her neck, looking for Logan. He was nowhere to be seen, but she did spy Hawkins as he was seating Miss Kelsey at a table. Composing a pleasant, calm expression, she approached.

  “Mr. Hawkins, I wonder if you might know where Mr. Logan has gone?”

  “I believe he went to the cloakroom, Miss Watkins. He may have already left.”

  Sophia whirled around almost before Hawkins had finished speaking and moved as quickly as decorum would allow. Logan emerged from the cloakroom as she arrived; his cloak draped over one arm and his hat in hand.

  “Logan, I need your help.”

  “Miss Watkins, right now you are the last person to whom I’d wish to render assistance.”

  “Upon my honor, this is a matter of urgency.”

  One of his eyebrows lifted. “Forgive me for saying so, but your honor isn’t worth two shillings.”

  “Oh, all right, I suppose I deserve that. But this isn’t about me, it’s about Miss Roring.”

  As he peered at Sophia, Logan’s eyes narrowed with suspicion.

  The gazebo was empty and Jillian was alone.

  “Where has everyone gone? Miss Hanna? Miss Grassley? This is really no time for hide and seek.”

  Silence was her response, although she thought she could hear giggles in the distance. Jillian groaned. She’d just had a practical joke played on her. Why didn’t I heed Mr. Loach’s warning?

  Before she could leave, Lord Archibald bounded into the gazebo. “What on Earth are you doing here all alone, Miss Roring?”

  “I’ve been abandoned by my friends, I’m afraid. Will you take me back to the house?”

  “Certainly. It’s a good thing I decided to go for a walk.” He closed the distance between them. “May I tell you how enchanting you look in the moonlight?” He reached out to caress her face but she stepped away.

  “I’m sorry, Archie, but this isn’t at all proper.”

  He pouted. “Don’t you like me, Miss Roring? Even a little?”

  “That is beside the point.”

  His straight white teeth gleamed in the light reflected from the house. “So you do like me.”

  “Lord Archibald, I beg you to escort me to my aunt before she becomes concerned about my absence.”

  Archie advanced. Jillian backed up until a wooden column cut off her escape.

  “How providential,” he murmured.

  He leaned in for a kiss, but she pushed him away with surprising strength. A few threads on her gown popped with the effort.

  “That is enough!” she exclaimed. “I’ll find my own way back.”

/>   Jillian tried to flee, but Archie caught her by the arm. She was about to slap him when someone stepped out of the darkness, grabbed Archie by the scruff of his neck, and hauled him off. Jillian gasped when she realized it was Logan.

  “Archie, you’re a libertine and I’ve been aching to thrash you since our university days,” he said.

  “How deliciously common of you,” Lord Archibald replied. “Let’s have at it.”

  Logan shrugged off his cutaway jacket, tossed it aside, and then clouted Archie on the jaw with his bare knuckles. Archie staggered backward, shook his head to clear it, and then lunged at Logan. As the two men fought, Sophia darted around the combatants and dragged a stunned Jillian from the gazebo to safety.

  “Should…shouldn’t we get some help?” Jillian squeaked.

  “No,” Sophia replied. Her calmness seemed out of place. “Logan was a champion boxer in school and Archie has it coming to him.”

  To Jillian, the fight lasted forever. In reality, it went on only for a half-minute or so. Logan took a several blows to the face and stomach, but he inflicted more punishment than he received. Archie finally sank down to his knees.

  “Maybe this will teach you not to impose yourself on a lady,” Logan said.

  A roundhouse punch to the face knocked Archie unconscious. Logan bent nearly double as he tried to regain his breath. Jillian and Sophia hastened into the gazebo. While Sophia checked on Archie, Jillian put a hand on Logan’s shoulder.

  “Are you all right?”

  Logan straightened. He appeared to have suffered a blackened eye and bleeding knuckles, but a grin lit his face. As he pulled a handkerchief from a pocket and wrapped it around his hand, he was positively cheerful.

  “Archie’s teeth cut my knuckles, but it was worth it. More importantly, are you all right, Miss Roring?”

  “Besides feeling exceptionally foolish, I am fine. How did you and Sophia come to be here?” Her eyes slid from Logan to Sophia, and she couldn’t suppress a gasp. He brought her out here for privacy! “Oh…of course.”