"Quite." She didn't mean to worry either of them and glanced to the side, but Emily had wandered away at some point. Likely realizing with James' sister present, she wasn't needed. "Worrying about tripping over my own feet is all. Though I think I grasp the concept. May I try it?" Ione stood, and James reached out his hand. When she took it, tingles of awareness shot through her fingers and up her arm. Would it always be this way with him? This sense of awe and desire?
She hoped so.
He pulled her much closer than he held his sister, but left modest space between them. She wanted to press closer, but didn't want to get used to that and shock his peers later. Wendelin began to play a song on the pianoforte, proving her skill in both dancing and music. Then James began to lead Ione around. She stumbled a few times, but once the mechanics of it stuck, she quickly mastered it.
"You really are a quick learner." He smiled at her.
"You have no idea."
His eyelids lowered, and his voice came out in a whisper, "I'd like to, but we won't have a chance until tonight."
In an equally low voice, she replied, "Is that a proposition?" Her body thrummed with need as she thought about how he'd made her feel the night before. She couldn't wait to mate with him again.
"Mmm."
The music stopped abruptly. "Uh, you two should probably separate, or I am about to receive a very clear lesson on what to expect on my wedding night."
They simultaneously broke apart, which caused all three of them to laugh. If her expression looked as guilty as James' did, they must have been quite the sight.
James moved forward and dragged her back into his embrace, but it was modest once again. "Let's run through the waltz a couple more times before trying a different dance."
The day was shaping out to be much better than the last. Hopefully, their encounter with Underwood didn't ruin everything.
CHAPTER 8
AS THEY STEPPED into the Huntington ballroom, Ione didn't quite know where to look first. The people in the middle of the room twirled in a dance she hadn't practiced that involved switching off to different partners temporarily before returning to the first. Dresses varied in shades much like the fins and hair of her sisters and cousins beneath the waves. Gentlemen were less of a spectacle of color, most preferring bland shades of black or brown or gray with more vibrant embellishments in their waistcoats.
As James escorted her farther into the room with her hand in the crook of his elbow, gazes fixated onto them. Trepidation coursed through her, but they weren't as interested in her as they were with his hook. Whispers erupted in their wake, and the stares increased until the hard line of James' jaw became so tense, she thought it might snap off.
"Ignore them. What they think doesn't matter." She lightly squeezed his arm.
His expression softened when he gazed down at her. "I shall try, but I never did enjoy unwanted attention." She understood that all too well.
"I, however, do," Wendelin said from behind them before wandering off and joining a group of girls around her age that were staring, wide-eyed, at James. The viscountess stopped next to James and tsked under her breath. As the weight of the stares shifted to her, Lady Georgette tittered and meandered off into the crowd. So much for acting as chaperone for both her and Wendelin tonight.
James squared his shoulders and took a deep breath. "I will be ambushed for questioning as soon as we stop to chat with anyone. I might have to leave you momentarily to get that over with."
She didn't want to be left alone around so many strangers, and was about to say as much when a familiar face in the crowd caught her eye. Ione's jaw went slack. "Demeter?"
"I beg your pardon?" James asked.
Ione patted his arm sympathetically. "Go fight off the questions. It appears one of my cousins is present, and suddenly a peculiar dream—or daydream really—I had earlier makes more sense." When he raised an eyebrow at her, she huffed. "I'll explain it all later. Lead me over to that group of ladies and introduce me so it's not suspicious I know someone here."
He didn't question her further and escorted her to where Demeter chatted with two debutantes around Wendelin's age, both blonde and pretty in cream colored gowns. The goddess' auburn hair was piled high upon her head with soft ringlets hanging around her face. Her gown was a pale violet, with dozens of twinkling crystals sewn into the bodice and the hem. What was she doing here? Ione knew goddesses often ventured into the mortal world, but hadn't expected to bump into one…at least so soon.
"Why, Captain Harlow, what happened to your poor hand?" One of the two girls exclaimed, much too loudly. Several curious glances shot their way.
"That's a long, boring story not suited for delicate ears. Good to see you as well, Lady Marissa. Lady Ainsley." He glanced at Demeter and smiled. If he was nervous by the inkling that the woman before him was an Olympian goddess, he didn't show it. Ione liked that about him. James only seemed to lose his composure for her alone. "I do not believe we've been introduced."
Demeter held her hand out and allowed James to place a light kiss on her knuckles. "The Duchess of Ceres," she said. "And a boring story wouldn't be unsuitable for ladies, Captain. The ones men think women are too fragile to hear are usually the most interesting." Then she turned her attention on Ione, a curious but knowing smirk turning up the edges of her mouth. "And who is this beautiful lady you have on your arm? Surely you'll have less trouble with that information than that of your lost hand."
James blinked, but Demeter was known for her frankness. The legend of how the mortal realm came to be cursed to seasonal weather was well-known. Most goddesses wouldn't make demands of Hades by plunging the entire world into a frigid winter if he'd absconded with their daughter, destroying crops, and forcing Hades to allow more souls into the Underworld than he had time to deal with. Yet Demeter had been relentless when it came to her beloved Persephone.
"Allow me to introduce you to Miss Ione Andersen. She's visiting from Denmark."
"Visiting whom?" Lady Marissa asked, glancing between the two of them.
"Are you courting her, Captain Harlow?" Lady Ainsley glared in Ione's direction. "Excuse me." She didn't wait for James to respond, but grabbed Marissa's hand and dragged her away. The other girl at least looked back with an apologetic shrug.
"What the devil has gotten into her?" James bristled.
Ione detached herself from his arm and smoothed down the crimson skirt of her borrowed gown. The color was even prettier with all the flickering candles in the elaborate chandeliers above. She couldn't wait to dance with James later and see how wide the skirt would swish when she whirled around. She closed her eyes for a moment to remember the stunned expression when he'd seen her come down the stairs before they left for the ball. She had never felt so beautiful than she had in that moment, and wouldn't let a pampered lady she didn't know take away her excitement for the evening. "Do not trouble yourself over it. She's jealous. Clearly, she had hoped you'd take interest in her." Ione was grateful that he hadn't.
"In Lady Ainsley?" He shook his head. "Hardly. The two of them used to come visit Wendelin all the time and pester…" Laughing, he feigned at smacking himself in the forehead with the flat of his palm. "Me. They came over to flirt and fawn, and I was completely oblivious." Still was…
Ione crossed her arms and Demeter chuckled.
"What? I had no idea, and it doesn't matter because she isn't the woman for—" James was about to say more, but his jaw snapped shut and he glared across the room. "If you two shall excuse me, I have to go protect my sister's virtue."
Oh, dear. He must have spotted Underwood. Ione glanced about but didn't see Wendelin anywhere, and she didn't know what the earl looked like. James disappeared into the crowd, so she turned back to her cousin who had cocked her head to the side to study her with a bemused expression.
"I wondered why I sensed an immortal Nereid in the middle of London. A little far from the shore for breeding, aren't you? Is the catch playing hard to get? He is quite
fetching."
Ione glanced about, but the people around them had moved on and left them secluded on the far side of the room. "I'm thinking of giving up my immortality to become human, well…somewhat. I'd still be a nymph, but on land."
Demeter's eyebrows rose, but that was all the reaction she allowed. "You must love this human…" Her eyebrows settled back into place and she squinted. How long have you known him?"
She didn't feel like having the same conversation she'd had with Poseidon and Triton, so she countered, "You already know how I feel about him. Why did you send me that vision?"
"Such a clever little mermaid." Her lips curled into a smirk. "Most do not realize when I'm pushing things out of their subconscious at them. You had me marked as the culprit the moment you caught sight of me, didn't you?"
Ione shrugged. She didn't know what business Demeter needed to attend to in London, but nobody liked having thoughts or visions pushed into their head without permission. "Was it my future, or for show?"
Sighing, Demeter motioned for Ione to walk with her around the perimeter of the room. Once they fell into step, she said, "I found the desire at the back of your mind, growing with each second." She halted, placing a hand on Ione's elbow to stall her. "Is this what you want? Could you live away from the sea?"
Her heart skipped a beat in worry of something she hadn't given much thought to. Everything had been very sudden. "Summerfield is on the coast."
"Captain Harlow is the third son of a viscount. He has no prospects, and it is his father's estate. Not to mention…has he told you he's a smuggler?"
"What are you saying?" She yanked her arm out of her cousin's grip, halting their trek. Between James and Triton, and what James had explained to her as he demanded she dress in his shirt on the beach, nothing Demeter said was news. "That I should return to my old life when I had no passion for anything? Where everyone I loved had already moved on and left me? I like it here." Mostly. "And I want to start a family with James. A fertility goddess of all people should appreciate that." Her parents and most of her sisters had found life elsewhere, so why shouldn't she be afforded the same opportunity?
They started moving again. Demeter smiled and nodded to an older gentleman that greeted her as he passed. "I know we aren't particularly close, being that Poseidon prefers the Olympians to remain out of his realm, especially after the gates of Olympus were closed for good."
Ione cringed. "He was offended that none of the sea gods were invited up to gain entry before those magics were invoked." Once the gates were locked, only those who were already inside Olympus could come and go from the realm. Those who were on the mortal plane, the Underworld or beneath the waves were out of luck. Poseidon considered it a tremendous insult.
Demeter gave a subtle shrug. "Which was not Zeus' brightest idea. Woe to him if it hadn't occurred when Persephone was visiting." She smirked again. "Hades was furious. He can't come after Persephone if she visits during her time with him anymore."
"I'm curious. Why are you in London?" Surely Poseidon and Triton hadn't sent her to spy on her progress with James. They would have shown up themselves if the curiosity overcame them—of that she was certain.
Waving a hand dismissively, Demeter replied, "Don't worry. Our paths crossing occurred by coincidence mostly. I have a demigod great-great-great-great-great grandson that I like to visit. He's part of the nobility, so I must blend in. Mortals that don't know my true identity forget all about me after I leave."
"The Duchess of Ceres was clever name play." The Romans had given her the name Ceres when they adopted the Greek pantheon for themselves. "I had wondered."
As Demeter continued to speak with her, Ione couldn't help but gaze longingly at the dancers, hoping James was all right. If she didn't spot him again soon, she'd have to track him down herself. This Underwood fellow couldn't be trusted, and had already tried to kill James once this week.
JAMES STEPPED between Wendelin and the earl, crossing his arms. "I believe I told you to stay away from my sister."
Underwood's eyes widened, and he looked him up and down, gaze locking, finally, on the hook. "Captain Harlow! I didn't think I'd see you here, though rumor had it that you were back in London and now an invalid."
Smug bastard. "Hardly."
Wendelin moved up beside James, and he had half a mind to shove her back where she was out of view of the cruel boy currently grinning at them as though he'd stumbled across his favorite game. "We were having a conversation," she gritted out.
"And you've had it; now you're finished. Go find someone else to dance with and trust me on this."
She looked like she wanted to argue, but manners had the better of her—which was more than James could say for himself at the moment. His fingers were curled into such a tight fist at his side, he could hardly suppress the urge to swing it into the boy's face. "Fine. But we're going to discuss this on the ride home, and it's not going to be pleasant for you." She twirled around, paused as the tension drained out of her posture, and then carried herself with dignity and grace toward her friends that had given Ione the cut direct earlier. That would not do either, but he could work on ladies of the ton later when Underwood was no longer an issue.
"I'm shocked," Underwood said. "I thought for sure you'd have told anyone who'd listen what I did to you. I was giving you a week before I took your ship from port. It's not sporting otherwise."
"Do you ever stop talking?" This made Underwood smile wider. He tapped his chin and pretended to be pensive. James wasn't amused.
"No, I don't believe I do. Speaking of talk, though. Who is this mysterious golden-haired temptress you have brought with you? I haven't seen her yet, but my boys are debating on whether or not she's a courtesan or a scullery maid you've dressed up so you can feel like a whole man again."
James' temper was rising at a rapid pace. He took a step forward, hooking the scoundrel's waistcoat, not caring that the material ripped easily when he tugged him forward. "Stay away from my sister. Stay away from Miss Andersen, and stay away from my ship. I'm willing to forget what happened to me if you stay out of my life. I'm not going to warn you again."
He turned on his heel and stormed away before he did something he regretted. Like stabbing the boy's eyes out. How could someone be so smug and gleeful about hurting others?
After being stopped to discuss his hook multiple times, James finally found Ione again. The ladies hadn't stayed put where he'd left them. She and the duchess seemed to be getting on well, but was she truly Demeter? A genuine goddess amongst them, and still her beauty didn't compare to Ione's. How many immortals lived in London, or England for that matter? Wouldn't they want to stay in Greece and on Mount Olympus? He had so many questions, but pushed them aside for now. He wanted to spend time with Ione. She had enjoyed dancing earlier, and he wanted to see her light up when they did it here. Damn if James didn't want to show her off, but she was beautiful and kind and for some unfathomable reason wanted him.
"You're back," Ione positively glowed with happiness to see him, and didn't that make him warm all over?
"For you? Always." He nodded to the duchess and she nodded back. A waltz began to play, and he held his hand out to Ione. "Do you care to dance?"
"Shouldn't I have my chaperone approve you as a dance partner?"
James snorted. He hadn't seen his mother since she disappeared upon arrival. "Only if you're my sister with no notion of appropriate suitors."
She giggled and took his hand. People were staring at them when they joined the couples on the dance floor. Between his missing hand and the mysterious woman in his arms, he didn't blame them. Despite wanting to show everyone he'd captured Ione's attention, it made him uncomfortable to be the focal point in the room, perhaps from his time smuggling when he tried to remain altogether unnoticed. James supposed that part of his life had come to a close, and he was fine with that. He had to give it up sometime, and had a small fortune saved up. He would keep the ship though. Something told him Ione would
appreciate having time on the water every now and then.
As he smiled down at the woman taking simple pleasure from the act of dancing—a thing so commonplace to him that he took it for granted—he couldn't believe Ione wanted him when she could have her choice of anyone. He couldn't wait until they had some time alone again either. Would she want to be intimate with him again so soon? And was it selfish to hope she didn't change her mind after their three days were up? Tossing aside immortality to grow old and raise mortal children was a daunting choice. What if a year or two down the road she decided to go back to the sea? Would she? He'd never make her stay if she didn't want to, even if it would break his heart. And his heart was in this. His feelings for her were too strong to ignore. James was falling in love.
"Your forehead is all crinkled and your mouth is in a straight line. You didn't have to concentrate so hard when we practiced."
Not wanting to worry her with his thoughts, he said, "It's taking all my concentration not to pull you closer and kiss you senseless, but we are already being scrutinized, and I don't wish to have other females treat you unfairly." He'd have Wendelin deal with the ladies from earlier. If they valued their friendship with his sister, they would respect Ione for however long she was in his life, which hopefully was longer than one more day.
She shrugged one shoulder. "It didn't bother me, and it shouldn't bother you. Other people's opinions don't matter. Just ours."
That was easier to agree with than to actively live by. "Tell me about the duchess. Is she really Demeter?"
Ione nodded. "My cousin a few times removed. She said her great-great-great-great-great grandson is a member of the nobility, so she visits him from time to time."
Interesting. He started to brush it off and then nearly tripped over his own feet. If her family member lived in the city, then surely they were at this ball. "Wait, there's a god living in London? Did she mention his name?" Could he be…? Surely not. Was everything connected somehow?
Romantically Enchanted: A Twisted Fairytale Collection Page 18
