One-Knight Stand

by Barbara Devlin

  “Then may I make a suggestion?”

  “By all means.”

  “Your chosen suitor may not be swayed by harmless waltzes and a reliable escort to supper.”

  A dark sense of foreboding settled as a cold chill in her chest, but Cara ignored the annoying sensation. “I do not follow.”

  “Might I tempt you with an impromptu tour of the Atherton’s garden, where we can strategize in private?” Because the music had ceased, Jason leaned close to whisper in her ear. “You see our ruse may require a more intense courtship.”

  #

  Despite the fact that he considered Jason an ally, of sorts, Lance struggled to suppress the jealousy raging within him as the blonde giant led Cara to the terrace doors, and Alex’s subtle flinch declared that he was not alone in his discomfit. Though Collingwood’s actions resembled their plan, to the letter, their plot gave Lance no joy.

  In an instant, he recalled his part to play in the Atherton ballroom, so he returned Alex to the relative comfort of the Brethren and prepared for the next scene in the hastily sketched drama. Once cloistered amid the security of their childhood friends, he inhaled and broached the conversation he had rehearsed all afternoon.

  “You look quite fetching this evening, Alex.” Lance could have laughed when she blinked in surprise. “Tell me truly, have you set your sights on a particular gentleman this season.”

  “I beg your pardon?” She worried her bottom lip and shifted her weight. “I know not what you ask.”

  “Oh, give over. Which lucky chap has claimed your attention?” Even as he said the words, Lance marveled at his circumstances, which had devolved to a level that reduced him to a discussion of male and female relationships and left a foul taste in his mouth. “Is he a member of the peerage or branch of the military?”

  “Well, I had thought one candidate, in particular, might fit my requirements for a suitable husband.” With her gaze fixed on the terrace doors, Alex furrowed her brow and wrung her fingers. “But now I am not so certain of his devotion.”

  “Oh?” He adopted his most sympathetic demeanor. “Has something changed in that respect?”

  “I wish I knew.” She sighed. “Are men not constant where their affections are concerned? I mean--my brother has often told me such, just as he claims all women are fickle.”

  “Ah, well who am I to gainsay Damian?” Lance rocked on his heels. “And he is correct, in part.”

  “He is?” At last, he captured her full attention. “How so?”

  “It is a simple matter of distinction.”

  “Please, explain.” Alex inclined her head. “Because I would dearly love to understand my potential beau.”

  “As you wish.” He tugged on his cravat. “You see, in the games people play, regarding my fellow bachelors, the ultimate goal is everything when it comes to the fairer sex.”

  “I do not follow.” She narrowed her stare. “What is the ultimate goal?”

  “How can I put this without being crude?” He tapped a finger to his chin. “As I would not shock your delicate nature.”

  “But we are old friends, so you need not mince words.” Alex rested her hand to his arm. “Pray, continue.”

  “If you insist.” It was time to bait the hook. “When a man sets his mind on a particular lady, nothing will dissuade him until he has her.”

  “That does not sound so nefarious.” Alex giggled. “My goodness, you had me worried for a minute.”

  “Ah, but I am not finished.” Lance cast his line. “As I mentioned, the primary objective is of utmost importance. If a man desires nothing more than a companion for the night, then once he catches his dove, there ends the pursuit, and he moves to the next conquest.”

  “Oh, my.” Alex’s mouth fell agape. “How dreadful for the dove.”

  “Hardly, my dear friend.” Lance chuckled, as he realized it had dawned on her that she might have misconstrued Jason’s interest, which is exactly what he had hoped to achieve. “As mutual comprehension on both parts keeps the field level.”

  “And what if the dove mistakes her pursuer’s intent?” She inched closer and glanced left and then right. “What if the lady believes her suitor seeks the latter, more permanent arrangement, as opposed to the former? How is she to know the difference?”

  Bloody hell, Lance had not anticipated such in-depth questioning. In a flash, he searched his mind for a convincing response and seized on the obvious solution. How would he have courted Cara, had he not been burdened with guilt in relation to his cousin’s death and had she not gifted him her virtue while he convalesced?

  “She holds his undivided attention, to the detriment of all else.” He could not help but smile, as he envisioned his Cara. For as long as he could remember, he had always been her champion. “And he makes no improper advances on her person, as he would protect his future wife’s honor with his life. For him, she is--”

  “Forgive my interruption, but may I ask a personal question?” Again, Alex scanned the immediate vicinity. “Given that we are as brother and sister, I feel I may be blunt. Just how do you define ‘improper advances,’ in regard to courtship?”

  “Alex.” Lance shuffled his feet and fought to suppress a grin. “Has someone taken liberties with your reputation?”

  “Oh--no.” She opened her mouth and then closed it. “It is just that I should like, very much, to know what constitutes inappropriate conduct, should anyone attempt such ill-mannered and bold behavior. And with your invaluable counsel, I should guard my virtue with unrestrained fervor.”

  “Well, in that case, I would argue anything beyond a polite kiss on your gloved hand is tantamount to an egregious breach of decorum.” Given her expression, he made a mental note to discuss the younger Seymour with Collingwood at their next meeting; else Damian might string Jason from the highest yardarm. “Come now, old friend, do tell. There must be some fellow who occupies your thoughts.”

  “All right.” Alex averted her gaze. “There is someone.”

  “Aha, I knew it. Who is he?” Lance waggled his brows. “You know we must approve of your choice of suitors.”

  “Yes, I am aware that any potential mate must pass the Brethren test,” she replied in a somber voice. “But I would not reveal his identity until I am assured of his devotion, else you may scare him away.”

  “Then why the long face?” While Lance hated to see the fieriest female of their family so deflated, he reminded himself of her participation in Cara’s scheme and stayed the course. “Spill it.”

  “I remain, as yet, undecided.” Alex lifted her chin and looked him straight in the eye. “But you may rest assured you will be the first to know when I have set my cap.”

  “I am delighted to hear it.” He cocked his head and revisited his script. “In the meantime, I suppose we shall have to entertain ourselves with Cara’s campaign.”

  The usually stalwart Lady Seymour’s jaw dropped. “Cara’s campaign?”

  “Oh, yes.” For a subsequent few seconds, he focused his energy on the simple process of breathing, because the next sentence he uttered would, were he unaware of the truth, have killed him. “It is evident she is quite taken with Captain Collingwood.”

  “You believe so?” She compressed her lips. “And you are all right with that?”

  “Of course.” Lance forced a smile. “Why would I object?”

  “I do not know.” The poor darling appeared on the brink of an apoplectic fit. “I thought perhaps you might not think him adequate.”

  “On the contrary. He sailed the Demetrius and brought her home, safe and sound.” He clucked his tongue. “I should name my firstborn for him.”

  “Is that how you really feel?” With palpable shock, she swallowed hard. “I thought you admired Cara.”

  “Oh, she and I will always enjoy a convivial relationship, but I have known for some time I would eventually relinquish her companionship to her chosen partner.” Lance stifled a snort of laughter, as Alex seemed on the verge of losing he
r supper. “After all, she could not marry me, for we are as siblings.”

  “But, you do not think Jas--I mean, Captain Collingwood is serious in his engagement?” Pale and visibly shaken, she pressed a hand to her throat. “That is, what I intended to ask is how do you know he wishes to marry her?”

  “I am fairly certain of his regard.” In light of her plot, Alex’s actions undermined her purpose, countermanding Cara’s aim to make Lance jealous. Instead of encouraging his line of thought, she questioned his assertion. “And I have it on good authority.”

  “How marvelous for Cara.” She rubbed the back of her neck. “On what do you base your assessment?”

  “Men talk.” The ghosts of Brethren past were probably turning over in their graves. “We share our passionate pursuits.”

  “You do?” she inquired with avid interest.

  “Indeed, as much as women.” Now that hurt.

  “And Jason desires a lifelong commitment with Cara?”

  “He has indicated as much.” It did not escape him that she referred to her love by his given name. “Daresay a wedding garland shall soon list in the Intrepid’s rigging.”

  “Perhaps you misunderstand,” Alex blurted. “Your acquaintance with him is brief. You only just met.”

  “Actually, I have known Collingwood since we were midshipmen aboard the Perseus.” He pointed for emphasis. “And he has commanded my ship, which is akin to sharing my ladybird.”

  “Lance.” Was it his imagination, or did a blush stain her cheeks?

  “What?” He chuckled. “You did inquire.”

  “Never mind. Just tell me about Jason. What has he said in regard to Cara--that is, if you feel you can confide in me?” In haste, she added, “I only ask out of concern for her welfare.”

  “Of course you do.”

  “She is one of my best friends.”

  “I do not doubt it.”

  “I assure you, I am in earnest.”

  “I know just how you feel.”

  “We are practically sisters.”

  Now it was time to reel in his catch. “Well, if you promise to keep this a secret--”

  “Tell me.” Alex glanced from side to side, and then leaned near. “What did he say?”

  His cause required a potent oratory, one that would haunt her sleep, if she managed to quiet her fears, at all. Lance might have regretted his actions, if he had not endured so many restless nights himself of late. In vain, he searched for a convincing argument. At the end of his tether, familiar praise echoed in his ears. It was an enthusiastic approbation he once declared in regard to Cara.

  “Over my best brandy, Collingwood divulged a deep and abiding appreciation for Cara. He feels she is unlike any woman he has ever known and is besotted. Her beauty, her poise, is beyond compare. Upon entering a room, she quite takes his breath away. In short, she is every man’s fantasy.” He wrinkled his nose and fretted that the next part might stick in his throat. “I believe Jason means to offer for her.”

  Alex gasped and covered her mouth. In a flash, she struggled to compose herself. A war of emotions besieged her once whimsical expression and quelled his urge to comfort her. When she teetered precariously, Lance lent support.

  “Are you ill, my dear?”

  “I am fine,” she insisted. Though she averted her gaze, he caught a glimpse of the pain etched in her stare. “But I would like a breath of fresh air. Would you be so kind as to escort me into the garden?”

  “Certainly.” He sketched a bow and extended an arm. “Shall we adjourn to the terrace?”

  The cool November air kissed his heated flesh, as he slipped out of his coat and draped it over Alex’s shoulders. After a few minutes, his vision adjusted to the silvery veil of moonlight on the flagged surface.

  To his immense relief, he spotted Jason and Cara seated, shoulder-to-shoulder, on a stone bench in the rose garden, and it appeared they did nothing more than share conversation. And then Alex flinched at his side, and he discovered her peering in the opposite direction.

  Beneath a large oak, partially shielded by thinning foliage, he could barely discern the unmistakable silhouettes of two lovers engaged in a tryst. To the emotionally charged, untrained eye, the figures could pass for Jason and Cara. As the lovers embraced in an animated clinch, Alex emitted something between a sob and a sigh.

  “Lance.”

  “Yes?”

  “I wish to return to the ball.”

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  “You are awfully quiet this morning, Alex.” Cara poured a cup of tea and passed it to Rebecca. “Is everything all right?”

  Since Sabrina’s confinement, and subsequent isolation by Everett, the back parlor of the Douglas townhouse had become the new war room. After setting the porcelain pot on the tray, she grasped a plate piled high with sweets and tempted her friend with her favorite scone.

  “No, thank you,” Alex replied in an icy tone, which sent a shiver down Cara’s spine. “And I am quite fine.”

  “Are you sure?” Caroline frowned, as she swiped a square of shortbread. “You look a tad peaked.”

  “And your eyes are puffy.” Rebecca wrinkled her nose. “Have you been crying?”

  “You seem a bit out of sorts, too.” Elaine cast a sympathetic expression. “Are you unwell?”

  “Why is everyone so concerned with the state of my health?” Alex grabbed a pillow and punched it. “And it matters not how I feel, now that my captain has lost interest.”

  “What?” Cara choked and sputtered, splashing tea on her dress. “You can’t be serious.”

  “Oh, please.” Alex rolled her eyes, folded her arms, and huffed. “Do not act the innocent.”

  “I beg your pardon?” Cara almost fell out of her chair. Without doubt, Alex was angry, but Cara could not fathom why. “Just what do you imply?”

  “Calm yourselves, sisters. Has something happened?” Rebecca inquired of Alex. “Because you gave us the impression your captain was just that--yours. And we know Cara’s affections lie firmly planted in Lance’s garden.”

  “So what has changed?” Elaine asked in a small voice.

  A knock silenced what Cara suspected was shaping up to be an imposing tempest. “Come.”

  “Am I late?” Before the butler could announce her presence, Sabrina shoved her way into the room and shut the door in the poor servant’s face. “I had to compose a suitable excuse to throw Everett off my scent.”

  “Little sister, shame on you.” Cara couldn’t help but giggle. “If he finds out you lied, he will heat your posterior.”

  “Oh, let him. I find I quite favor spankings when my shameless lord is the task master.” Sabrina ignored the gasps of surprise, pushed an ottoman into the mix, glanced at the two teapots, and queried, “Which one is chamomile?”

  “The purple flowers,” Cara replied, quick as a wink. “So what did you tell Everett?”

  “That Mama had a problem of a female nature, and she requested I accompany her to the physician. Do take note, that sort of excuse always works.” Sabrina settled her skirts and narrowed her stare. “Rebecca, will you pass the shortbread? Although I breakfasted this morning, I am absolutely famished. Now, where were we?”

  “We were just assessing the most recent developments. Take a deep breath, dearest,” Caroline said to Alex, as she inched to the edge of her seat. “What occurred last night, at the ball?”

  “Did you not enjoy yourself at the Atherton’s gala?” Sabrina shoved a treat into her mouth. “It is one of the premier fetes of the season.”

  “An excellent inquiry, Brie.” Alex pinned Cara with an angry glare. “But I believe the more important question is did your elder sibling enjoy herself?”

  “Actually, I did not.” In that moment, Cara recalled the fact that Lance had not once partnered her in a dance, and she frowned. “However, it was an interesting evening.”

  “So I would wager.” Alex sniffed.

  “All right, that is enough.” With a sigh of frustration, C
ara set her cup on the tray. “Out with it.”

  Alex flicked a stray lock from her forehead. “Out with what?”

  “Whatever has you so perturbed?” Cara compressed her lips.

  “Do I appear perturbed?” Alex averted her gaze.

  “Actually, you seem mad as a hornet’s nest.” Rebecca arched a brow. “One we are too wise to beat with a stick.”

  At that instant, Alex bounded out of her chair, marched around the coffee table, and stopped directly before Cara. Noting her friend’s fists, Cara reclined on the sofa.

  “You kissed Jason in the garden last night,” Alex declared.

  “I beg your pardon?” Cara did not know what she expected her friend to say, but that was not it. “I did no such thing.”

  “Do not dare deny it.” Alex pointed a finger. “I saw you.”

  Confused, Cara searched her memory for some reasonable explanation. “Alex, I swear--”

  “Alex, I swear.” The younger Seymour stomped a foot. “Do you take me for a fool? I suppose I imagined it, and you did not accompany Jason into the Atherton’s garden.”

  “No.” Cara peered at Sabrina, then Caroline, then Rebecca, then Elaine, and then Alex. “I admit we ventured into the garden, but we never kissed.”

  With something between a sob and a sigh, Alex stated, “You were under an oak tree, and--”

  “You are wrong.” Cara shook her head. “Jason and I shared a stone bench near a rose-covered pergola.”

  As her shoulders drooped, Alex retreated. “But--I saw you.”

  “I have no doubt you witnessed a tryst, but it was neither Jason nor I.” Cara exhaled in relief, as her friend’s ire appeared to dissipate. “Just as you remain devoted to your captain, I love Lance.”

  “Oh, Cara. I apologize, but I am so upset. Jason all but ignored me last night.” Alex twined her fingers with Cara’s and sat on the sofa. “Why did you venture into the rose garden?”

  “Because I needed privacy to end our plot.” Given her friend’s tremulous state, Cara chose her words with care. “I explained I was no longer in need of his assistance.”