One-Knight Stand

by Barbara Devlin

  “But he is,” Brie stated with grim finality. “I am afraid you are on your own in the ballrooms, until I give birth, and you must be vigilant, as Alex requires your counsel. I foresee breakers ahead, as she grows bolder by the minute, and the cost to her reputation will impact her marriage prospects before she realizes it.”

  “Wherever did you gain such uncommonly good sense?” Cara paused in the foyer.

  “From my uncommonly level-headed elder sister.” Sabrina cupped Cara’s cheek. “I love you.”

  “And I you.” Cara swallowed the lump in her throat. “Worry not, little gadling. I intend to cease the charade with Collingwood, before anyone gets hurt, and I will do so today. Never should I have embarked on such a foolhardy endeavor, but the fault is mine. I can only hope to manage the betrothal better than the courtship.”

  “Oh, that is rather elementary, as spouses are easily maneuvered by a singular part of their anatomy, just as a rudder steers a ship.” Sabrina compressed her lips. “Watch and learn.” Cupping her hands to her mouth, she shouted, “Everett.”

  “What are you--”

  “Shh. One, two, three.” Brie counted on her fingers.

  At that very moment, Everett ran into the foyer and slid to a halt. “Darling, is something wrong? Are you unwell?”

  Without warning, Sabrina grabbed her husband and kissed him, in full view of Cara. Then her younger sister whispered in Everett’s ear, and the poor man blushed beetroot red.

  “My lady, you need rest.” In a flash, Everett bent and swept Sabrina into his arms. Then he cleared his throat. “Good afternoon, Cara. Brie has overtired herself, and I must see to her welfare. Please, convey our regard to our brothers, as we shall forgo the journey to Deptford for my wife’s health.”

  “Of course.” Cara averted her gaze, as the happy couple ascended the stairs.

  Stepping into the sunlight, Cara lifted her chin and basked in the warmth of nature’s kiss, which evoked delicious memories of the previous night and the heat of passion she had shared with Lance. But the depth of her attachment extended a vast deal beyond the physical realm. What if her hero never responded, in kind?

  Would the fiery blaze in her heart reduce her to ashes, if Lance did not stoke the flames of love? It was a quandary for which she had no answer. It was a gamble of the worst sort, just as her sisters had warned. Glancing left and then right, she shivered, as the lonely solitude of her situation struck as a wintery gale and chilled her to the marrow.

  Thus far she had wagered her maidenhead in the quest to win a husband. She had rolled the dice and lost. So she could retreat and hope for the best, or she could bet it all in one final venture. Recalling the embroidered handkerchief nestled in her bodice, she smiled. Indeed, Cara had plans of her own and required a change of attire and attitude.

  It was time to claim her knight.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  It was time to claim his lady.

  As he stood on the docks at Deptford, Lance resolved not to leave Cara alone with Jason. Under the guise of concern for his ship, he loomed in the wake of his competitor. To his infinite relief, Alex and Elaine remained entrenched at Cara’s side. For a scarce second, he mulled the possibility that Alex courted the blonde captain, but just as fast he vanquished the thought.

  Then again, it made perfect sense to presume Alex simply performed her duties as official escort, in obeisance of societal dictates. Regardless of Collingwood’s fledgling affiliations and title, the brief duration of his acquaintance with Miss Douglas rendered a private audience in gross breach of polite decorum. Lance, on the other hand, enjoyed the luxury of a lifelong liaison, sanctioned by their familial ties. Their friendship, his and Cara’s, was well known throughout the ton, so no one would dare conceive of a courtship blossoming between two members of the Brethren.

  How he looked forward to raising some eyebrows.

  “I believe you will find everything shipshape, my friend.” Jason stood tall, almost as if he were trying to impress Lance. “The Demetrius is a fine vessel, and she swims like a dream.”

  “Indeed, everything appears to be in excellent order.” As he ascended the gangplank, Lance surveyed the rigging in hopes of finding something amiss. As much as he hated to admit it, a fluttering canvas or loose rope would have pleased him. To his disappointment, he found nothing awry. “I commend you, brother.”

  “Your praise is misplaced, as it is your crew I must compliment.” Jason smiled. “They are entirely responsible for the success of my first mission as a member of the Brethren. You run a tight ship, Raynesford.”

  “I employ only experienced sailors.” Lance waved to familiar faces and grinned as a proud parent. “They are the finest seamen I have ever commanded during my naval career.”

  “You should know I have nothing but good things to report.” Then Collingwood turned to Cara and said, “Perhaps Miss Douglas would appreciate a full account of my mission?”

  Any affinity Lance might have developed for his rival evaporated with that singular suggestion, as Cara favored Jason with her attention. “I should love to hear your tale, Captain.”

  Lance frowned and clenched his fists. Just what was she about? Never before had she asked of his charges. Of course, it had not been necessary, because he always cornered her upon his return and regaled her with his daring adventures at sea, in a pathetic attempt to thrill his lady. As she fussed over another man, Lance seethed in silence.

  “Oh, do tell, Captain.” Alex pressed her clenched hands to her dangerously low-cut bodice, of which Lance had scarcely taken note until that instant. “Did you tangle with the French?”

  And although the risqué décolletage had not registered with Lance beyond a reminder to speak with Damian about her questionable behavior, it had not escaped Collingwood, who seemed quite entranced by her bold attire, as did the rest of the crew. But it was Jason’s open admiration that first raised Lance’s suspicions, because his adversary had been steadfast in his courtship of Cara prior to sailing. Did the man believe he could woo two Brethren women at once? That was akin to suicide.

  “In all truth, Lady Seymour, we saw little action while at sea.” Jason snapped his fingers. “That reminds me, I forgot the log and report in my cabin.”

  “May I accompany you to retrieve it?” Cara inquired with a sweetness no man could resist, and Lance swore under his breath.

  “I will get it.” Without hesitation, Lance stepped to the fore. “This is, after all, my ship.”

  “Can I come, too?” Alex batted her lashes at Collingwood, and Lance was certain there were games afoot.

  “Oh, I would dearly love to see the Demetrius, as never have I explored her decks.” Elaine rocked on her heels, and Lance stumbled. “My cousin is a tad overprotective.”

  “Given that I have spent the past few weeks aboard this rig, I am familiar with the location of the captain’s cabin.” With an owlish expression, Jason cleared his throat. “But who am I to deprive myself of such estimable company?”

  “Perhaps Lance could give you and Alex a tour,” Cara said to Elaine. “While Jason and I retrieve the log?”

  “But I wish to see the captain’s quarters, and why should I stay here?” Alex pouted. “Lance can amuse himself. Besides, he is injured and may not feel up to the walk.”

  “I am not an invalid.” Like bloody hell would he allow Jason to escort Cara. How he managed to restrain his fast rising anger he didn’t know or care. “Given this is my ship, I shall collect the log.”

  “Wait.” Jason chuckled and scratched his temple. “Why do we not journey to my cabin, as a group?”

  “You mean my cabin,” Lance inserted with an acid tongue.

  “Indubitably.” Jason retreated and bowed with an exaggerated flourish. “Ladies first.”

  Neither Cara nor Alex moved.

  “You forget yourself, brother.” Lance pressed a clenched fist to his lips and shifted his weight. “They have never visited my stateroom. Perhaps you can lead the way.”
>
  “I should be delighted,” Jason replied. With Cara at his left, and Alex at his right, Collingwood proceeded across the waist, steering the ladies to the correct portal.

  With Elaine at his side, Lance hobbled in their wake, nodding an acknowledgment to the cook as he passed the galley.

  As soon as he entered his domain, his home away from home, bawdy images filled his brain. Thoughts of Cara, naked and spread for his delectation, assailed his senses, and he tripped. Ever since Trevor confessed to spending his wedding night with Caroline aboard the Hera, and Dirk divulged that he had followed suit with Rebecca on the Gawain, Lance had fantasized about making love to Cara in the one place he had always considered a man’s sanctuary--his quarters on the Demetrius. Despite his injury, he did not doubt his ability to rock the boat.

  And although another captain had taken the Demetrius to sea, the first thing Lance noticed was that Jason had changed nothing. Indeed, Lance’s personal belongings remained tucked in their respective places, and not a single book or lantern had been relocated. Why it was comforting he did not know, but standing in his cabin, amid the faint smell of cigar smoke mixed with brine and the gentle roll of the Thames port, Lance felt whole again.

  “I did my best to leave everything as I found it.” Jason grinned and chucked Lance on the shoulder. “I am well aware my command of the Demetrius is a temporary commission, brother.”

  Unnerved that a brief acquaintance could read him with the accuracy and ease of an old friend, Lance shrugged. “I assure you, I did not give it the slightest thought.”

  “So you say.” Jason laughed and strode to the large desk holding pride of place before the stern windows, whereupon he picked up a leather-bound log. “Are we ready?”

  “So this is where you slept?” Alex stood beside the oversized bunk, inclined her head, and held Collingwood’s stare as she then perched on the edge of the down mattress. Bouncing in a flirty manner, she bit her lip. “It seems comfortable enough.”

  “For what?” Lance choked and sputtered. Had his friend lost her wits? Had the musty air molded her mind?

  Purposely baiting a seaman who had just returned from a mission was neither smart nor safe, because running French patrols aground stirred the blood, which pooled in a particular six inches of the male anatomy. Alex treaded dangerous waters, and Lance wanted to know why.

  “I refer to slumber.” She favored Jason with a wide-eyed stare. “What else would you do here?”

  “Alex!” Cara hissed.

  A red tone spread from beneath Jason’s starched white cravat, coloring his neck, his cheeks--hell, his entire face. Lance recognized the telltale, lustful male flush, and it was no surprise. With Alex dangling herself as a carrot before the horse, Jason displayed the natural reaction of an aroused sailor, so Lance could not blame his rival.

  “Perhaps we should return to the docks.” Lance ushered Elaine and Cara to the door. “Admiral Douglas will be expecting your report.”

  Cara glanced over her shoulder. “Coming, Alex?”

  “We are right behind you,” Jason replied.

  Lance led Cara and Elaine down the short hall. She peered at him and favored him with a charming smile, which warmed him to his toes. But when she glanced back, no doubt to check Alex’s behavior, the pressure of her fingers in the crook of his arm underscored some internal unrest.

  “What is it?” He paused. “Is something wrong?”

  “Nothing.” Though Cara attempted to convey an air of serenity, she did not fool him for a second.

  “Will you show me the kitchen, Lance?” Elaine tugged his wrist. “I should dearly love to know how the cook plans and provides meals at sea.”

  “As you wish, dear cousin.” While on the surface, Lance was lighthearted and enthusiastic as he explained the intricacies of food preparation aboard ship, in reality, curiosity and angst gnawed at his nerves. What had caused the sudden change in Cara’s demeanor?

  Skittish and abrupt, adjectives he would never have used to describe her, she feigned interest as he provided a brief education on sea fare. To his chagrin, Lance sensed an underlying preoccupation as Cara paced.

  But what had upset her? Could it be Jason’s burgeoning fascination with Alex? Did Cara possess a depth of feeling for Collingwood that even Lance had underestimated? He shuddered at the mere thought. It couldn’t be true. He would not allow himself to believe it.

  “Well, what are we doing here?” Jason inquired. “Raiding the pantry?”

  “Cara and Elaine requested a tour of the galley.” Lance shot him a casual glance--and just stopped himself from gawking. Later, there would be time enough to dissect what he had just witnessed. “I had not the heart to refuse them.”

  “Are our fair ladies considering a career in the culinary arts, or have they acquired a taste for dried beef and stale bread?” Jason chuckled and pulled Alex, who held a death grip on his arm, even closer, which breached the limits of polite decorum for mixed company. “As you stand fast for Miss Douglas and Lady Prescott, I shall escort Lady Seymour to her carriage. And then I must away, as Admiral Douglas awaits my report.”

  “And I should accompany you, for the debriefing,” Lance added. He glanced at Elaine and winked and then turned to discover Cara staring at her feet. With a gentle nudge, he gained her attention. “What say you, dearest Cara? Are you ready?”

  “Indeed,” she responded with a curt nod. And then she leaned near to whisper in his ear. “I had hoped we would speak in private, but this is not the best venue. Perhaps tonight you might grant me an audience?”

  “It would be my honor,” he replied in a low voice.

  At the fore, Alex and Jason strolled, head to head, like a couple of besotted sweethearts, which left Lance with a sick feeling in his stomach. Something about the scenario did not set right with him, as his adversary lavished his affection on Alex.

  And what of the younger Seymour? It could not have escaped her that Jason had paid call on Cara. So why would Alex make free her favors to her friend’s potential suitor? And not for a minute did Lance doubt that Alex had allowed Jason to compromise her. Because try as she might, Alex could not disguise the signature flush in her cheeks and her kiss-swollen lips.

  Somewhere, somehow, someone had played his lady false.

  Before the night was over, Lance vowed to discover the turncoat and the depth of their treachery.

  #

  Before the night was over, Cara vowed to locate Captain Collingwood and end their arrangement. As she surveyed the ballroom in search of Alex’s blonde suitor, Cara cursed under her breath. Having failed miserably in her attempt to engage Jason aboard the Demetrius and cease her harebrained scheme, she had come to the Hayward Ball determined to corner her partner in nefarious enterprises and be done with the whole miserable plot.

  “And how are you this fine evening, Miss Douglas?” Jason approached from behind, and Cara almost jumped out of her skin.

  “Captain Collingwood, it is so good to see you.” She sighed with relief. “We must talk--”

  “My, but you look splendid in your formal attire, Captain Collingwood.” Draped in a gown of rich crimson, which featured a body-hugging cut that left little to the imagination, Alex inclined her head and smiled. “And I dressed in this old rag.”

  Poor Jason went up in flames, and Cara replayed the afternoon scene aboard the Demetrius, which had left her scrambling to divert Lance’s attention, else Collingwood may have ended his mission with a walk on the plank.

  Elaine’s request to tour the galley had been a subtle attempt to cover Alex’s bold behavior, which had resulted in a sneak attack of a male sort. In short, one minute Alex had stood in the hall, just outside the captain’s cabin, and in the next Jason had snaked his arm about her waist, and she disappeared.

  “Lady Seymour.” Jason bowed and then claimed her hand. “You would be a vision in a chimney sweep’s togs.”

  “Oh, Captain Collingwood, talk like that could sweep a lady off her feet.” Alex
giggled, and Cara could have strangled her friend.

  “Alex, if you do not mind, perhaps I could have a word with the Captain?” Cara clenched her teeth and cast a stern stare. “It is imperative.”

  “Oh, dear.” Alex’s smile faltered. “I forgot--that is, of course, as I have reserved the waltz for our esteemed Captain.”

  “I believe this dance is mine, Miss Douglas.” Lance stood at attention, and Cara almost swooned.

  “Can you manage, Raynesford?” Jason arched a brow. “It would be my honor to indulge our fair Miss Douglas in your stead.”

  “And I have saved the very same waltz for you, my lord.” Cara swallowed hard as she gazed at Lance. “Would you not prefer that?”

  Without a word, her hero frowned and dipped his chin.

  As Cara assumed her proper position opposite Jason, she mentally rehearsed her carefully composed speech. When they joined hands, she said, “Captain, I--”

  “Is my Alex not beautiful tonight?” He grinned like a giddy schoolboy. “Not that she is not always beautiful, but this evening, she is exceptionally so.”

  “Yes, she is lovely, as always.” They parted, and Cara switched partners with the lady to her left, before she again met Jason. “Captain, I had hoped--”

  “Tell me, Miss Douglas, did she wear that fantasy creation just for me?” At that instant, he pinned Alex, who loomed at the edge of the dance floor, with a heated stare that made Cara blush. “Or do I presume too much?”

  “Without doubt, Captain, Alex turns herself out for you, and you alone.” Cara swallowed ungracious invective, as she swapped places with the woman to her right. At last she resumed the spot beside Collingwood and said, “Be that as it may--”

  “I knew it.” When he smiled, he bared his teeth. “Forgive my candor, Miss Douglas, but Alex boils my blood.”

  “I am pleased to hear it.” Cara laughed. “Because I believe you have the same effect on her.”

  “Does she speak of me?” In a flash, Jason shook his head. “Forget I inquired, as such request is unworthy of a gentleman. I apologize for asking you to betray a confidence.”