A Lord's Chance

by Anthea Lawson

  “If you say so.” Will stuck his hands in his coat pockets. “Some of the other gentlemen are getting up a game of whist in the men’s lounge tonight. Are you in?”

  “Certainly.” It would be a welcome distraction, a chance to armor himself once more against his unfortunate tendency to attract unsuitable members of the opposite sex.

  And was Miss Isabelle Strathmore unsuitable? Given his recent experiences, the answer was probably yes. At any rate, he did not intend to find out.

  Despite Gavin’s resolve not to entangle himself with Miss Strathmore, he couldn’t help approaching her two days later as she strolled about the deck with Miss Taylor. Neither of their companions were to be seen, which was just as well. He did not much care for the sour Miss Primm, and Mrs. Hodges was, quite frankly, a trifle intimidating. He’d no doubt she would bash him across the shins with her ever-present umbrella if she thought he was misbehaving.

  “Good afternoon, ladies,” he said, tipping his hat.

  “Hello, Lord Jasper.” Miss Strathmore gave him a guarded smile.

  “How pleasant to see you.” Miss Taylor was less restrained in her greeting. “Oh, do say you and Lord Weston will be attending the shipboard ball tomorrow night. The purser says sometimes there are too many ladies without a dancing partner, since the gentlemen shirk their duties. Which, you must admit, is rather appalling.”

  “Most ungentlemanly,” Gavin agreed, though he had planned to do that very thing. “I shall endeavor not to disappoint.”

  “I think the notion of a ball on deck beneath the stars is quite romantic.” Miss Taylor gave a little sigh.

  “If one is inclined to such things,” Miss Strathmore said. “And as long as the sea remains calm. One would hate to go overboard in the middle of a mazurka.”

  “Certainly there’s no danger?” Miss Taylor’s eyes widened. “Do you really think we might fall off the ship?”

  “I was teasing,” Miss Strathmore said gently. “Besides, I’m sure if there is any possibility of rough weather, they would cancel the ball. You know how the captain likes to shoo us all below decks the moment the wind rises.”

  “Then we must hope for the best,” Miss Taylor said. “Lord Jasper, I’ll save a dance for you.”

  “I would be delighted.” He made her a slight bow, then could not help glancing at Miss Strathmore, who was watching him with a thoughtful expression. “And of course, I would not neglect you either, Miss Strathmore.”

  “Thank you,” she said, “but I wasn’t planning to attend.”

  “Oh, but you must!” Miss Taylor grabbed her hand and gave her an imploring look. “Please, Isabelle. You’re my only friend aboard. I can’t go without you.”

  “Well.” Miss Strathmore darted another inscrutable look at Gavin, a shadow darkening her blue eyes. “I suppose I might come, at least for a few dances.”

  “I knew I could count on you,” Miss Taylor said with a broad smile. “It will be lovely, I promise.”

  “No doubt.” Miss Strathmore glanced at the pocket watch pinned to her bodice. “It’s been lovely chatting with you, Lord Jasper, but I believe it’s time for us to go below for tea. Good day.”

  “Cheers!” Miss Taylor gave him a jaunty wave.

  A moment later Gavin was alone on the deck. The warm breeze curled about him, twisting softly like his thoughts. What a curious young woman Miss Strathmore was turning out to be, and not at all what he’d expected.

  Perhaps her behavior was a ploy to capture his interest, but considering the wary way she’d regarded him, he thought not. She hadn’t leaped at the opportunity to dance with him, either. It was altogether outside his experience to see a young lady having to be coerced into attending a ball.

  Speaking of coercion, he’d have to rope Will into coming too. They could suffer through the first half, then make their escape to the men’s lounge after the requisite dances with the ladies, and no harm done.

  Chapter 3

  Isabelle stabbed a topaz-encrusted comb into her hair. Her eyes were bright, but not with excitement for the ball that evening. No, the young woman who stared back at her from the mirror was upset, color high in her cheeks, eyes glinting like polished sapphires.

  I did not ask for this, she thought fiercely. Not her attractive features and golden hair, her blue eyes, her smile which had, at various times, been compared to sunshine, honey, and rose petals.

  She would prefer to be fog, lemon, and stones.

  And she was growing rather weary of being Miss Isabelle Strathmore, who had once upon a time fallen foolishly in love with a handsome black-haired lord.

  I will not make that same mistake. She jammed another comb into her hair, the teeth scraping her scalp painfully.

  “Drat it!”

  Mrs. Hodges glanced up from her knitting. “What is the matter?”

  “Nothing.” Isabelle blew out a breath. “Everything.”

  It was unfair of her to be angry—with herself, with Miss Taylor, who had trapped her into attending the ball, with Lord Jasper, who appeared—on the surface—to be a perfectly respectable gentleman, despite his brooding tendencies.

  Lord Reginald Huntington had seemed much the same. He’d danced with her beneath the Mediterranean stars, stolen her heart, and then betrayed her, putting everyone she loved in peril.

  She turned from the mirror to face her companion. “I simply don’t have any desire to go to the ball, let alone dance, this evening.”

  “Are you quite sure?” Mrs. Hodges gave her a penetrating look. “Or is it that you do, in fact, want to attend? That you would like to dance with Lord Jasper but wish you did not?”

  Isabelle winced. Her companion’s words were too close to the mark, and she could not deny the bitter truth of it.

  “I’ve no business feeling any sort of attraction to Lord Jasper,” she said after a moment. “It’s not wise in the least.”

  Mrs. Hodges set her knitting down.

  “We passed Tunisia earlier,” she said mildly. “Did you notice?”

  “Yes.” Though Isabelle had not bothered to go out on deck to watch the coast fall away, as the purser had suggested to the ladies at tea.

  “It is behind you, Isabelle. In every sense. Not all the black-haired gentlemen in the world also possesses black hearts. Perhaps you might give Lord Jasper the benefit of the doubt.”

  I don’t want to.

  It was far safer to continue on as she had been. There was danger in the balmy night air, in the bright stars overhead, in the prospect of being in Lord Jasper’s arms.

  “He’s only interested in my pretty face,” she said.

  “No, I believe that would be his friend, Lord Weston.” Mrs. Hodges began to knit again, needles clicking with brisk efficiency. “Consider this—you’ve had five years in which you might have been seduced by some scoundrel, and nothing of the sort has happened.”

  “That’s because I’ve guarded my heart well.” Isabelle pivoted back to the mirror, her temper rising again.

  Mrs. Hodges was perceptive, true, but her attempts at understanding often fell short. Isabelle knew that, for herself, falling in love could only result in disaster.

  A knock from the corridor signaled the arrival of Miss Taylor and Miss Prim, and Isabelle rose, grateful for the distraction.

  “Oh, don’t you look beautiful,” Miss Taylor said as Isabelle opened the door. “I wish I could wear that color gold, but it washes out my complexion dreadfully.”

  “You look lovely yourself,” Isabelle said. “Periwinkle blue suits you very well.”

  Mindful of their wide skirts, they mounted the stairs to the deck. Miss Primm and Mrs. Hodges followed, ready to catch them if they stumbled backward. Truly, ball gowns were impractical on board a ship. Especially one like the Floramay, which had been built before enormous crinolines became the fashion. Luckily, they managed to reach the deck without mishap.

  “How delightful.” Miss Taylor clasped her gloved hands together in approval.

  Sma
ll candle lanterns had been strung up on the port side, delineating a dance floor, and tables of refreshments were set out, more candles glimmering in glass bowls.

  A string trio seated near the stern was playing, and a few couples promenaded about under the star-spangled sky.

  “This seems a rather informal event,” Miss Primm said, a note of disapproval in her voice.

  “One could hardly demand more,” Mrs. Hodges said. “We’re on board a ship, after all. But I’m sure that, under your watchful eye, everyone will behave as they ought.”

  Isabelle smiled at her companion’s dry humor, which no doubt was completely lost upon Miss Primm.

  “There they are.” Lord Weston swept up to them, Lord Jasper at his side. “The loveliest ladies at the ball.”

  Not that there were all that many to choose from. Aside from Isabelle and Miss Taylor, there were perhaps three other eligible young misses aboard. The other attendees of the ball were mostly older couples and the cluster of matrons, who seemed ready to drink punch and gossip all evening long.

  “Lovely indeed,” Lord Jasper said.

  To Isabelle’s delighted dismay, his gaze seemed to linger on her a moment too long.

  “I’m so glad you promised to come,” Miss Taylor said to him. “Otherwise, I’m afraid Miss Strathmore and myself would be quite the wallflowers.”

  “We certainly could not allow that to happen,” he said. “Would you like to dance now, Miss Taylor?”

  “Why, yes.” She set her gloved hand in his, a faint blush coloring her cheeks.

  “An earl,” Miss Primm murmured to Mrs. Hodges. “How fortuitous.”

  Lord Weston turned to Isabelle. “Would you do me the favor of granting me a dance?”

  “It would be my pleasure.”

  She allowed him to lead her to the area marked for dancing. The trio, seeing the two couples approach, struck up a schottische, and it did not take long for a few others to join them in the lively figures of the dance.

  It was pleasant, she had to admit, to be dancing in the open air and not the stuffy confines of a ballroom. The warm breeze ruffled her skirts and blew a pleasant breath over the nape of her neck, exposed by her upswept hair.

  Isabelle tried not to notice how very much Miss Taylor seemed to be enjoying herself as she danced with Lord Jasper. Really, it was none of her concern whether or not the young lady’s laughter rang out merrily into the night.

  When the set ended, Lord Weston returned her to Mrs. Hodges and went to fetch them each a cup of punch. Lord Jasper did the same, and Miss Taylor watched him stride away, her eyes shining.

  She leaned toward Isabelle.

  “Isn’t he the handsomest fellow?” she asked. “It’s quite amazing that we are all on the same ship. Think of the chances! We might never have met.”

  Oh dear. It seemed Miss Taylor had fallen rather quickly into the throes of an infatuation.

  “As I told you earlier,” Miss Primm said to her charge, “you must make sure to catch his eye at every opportunity. Wouldn’t that be a coup, to snag the Earl of Jasper while out on a Grand Tour?”

  Mrs. Hodges cleared her throat. “I don’t think the earl is the least bit interested in getting himself snagged.”

  Miss Primm flapped her hand at the older woman. “None of them ever are. It’s up to us ladies to make sure to set the hook.”

  Snags and hooks—Isabelle was glad she had no need to dwell upon such things. There were some advantages to having decided against marriage.

  The gentlemen returned, a serving man behind them carrying six cups of punch and a sampling of canapés on a silver tray.

  “What a pleasant evening picnic,” Miss Taylor said as they settled around a grouping of small tables. “One could get used to dining alfresco.”

  “Not at home, of course.” Miss Primm shot her charge a reproving look. “That’s why we have dining rooms, after all.”

  “Tell me, Lord Jasper,” Miss Taylor said, cupping her chin in her hand. “Do you possess a very elegant dining room? I feel you must.”

  He blinked at her with what Isabelle thought was a flash of alarm. “It’s the usual sort of dining room, I suppose. Table, chairs.”

  “Crystal chandeliers? Aubusson carpet?”

  “I suppose,” he said stiffly. “I’ve never much noticed.”

  “Sarah, do stop prying into the details of Lord Jasper’s life,” Miss Primm said, though her tone was approving. “If he would like you to see his dining room, perhaps he will invite us to dinner once we return to England.”

  An awkward silence fell, though Lord Weston looked as though he might burst out laughing.

  “No escape, Gav,” he said quietly to his friend.

  Lord Jasper sent him a dark look.

  “We make port in Athens in two days,” Isabelle said, trying to ease the tension. “What is everyone looking forward to seeing in Greece?”

  “The Acropolis, surely,” Miss Taylor said.

  “As long as you avert your eyes from certain portions of the statues,” Miss Primm said. “The ancient Greeks had no notion of what was suitable.”

  “Or, ahem, normal,” Lord Weston said, and Isabelle wondered if he’d been spiking his punch. “Unless their depictions are accurate. In which case, I feel sorry for the poor Greek women.”

  “William.” Lord Jasper gave his friend a quelling look. “Do recall there are ladies present.”

  Luckily, the string trio struck a chord, distracting them all from the lurching conversation. In a heartbeat, Lord Jasper was on his feet, offering his hand to Isabelle.

  “Might I have the pleasure?” he asked.

  “Of course.” Isabelle rose, trying to ignore Miss Taylor’s crestfallen expression.

  The young lady’s face cleared somewhat as Lord Weston stepped into the gap—though a viscount was not quite as suitable as an earl, of course.

  Heavens, the machinations of the ton were enough to give one a headache. Isabelle had been hoping to escape such things on this journey. She’d neglected to consider that, wherever there was a gathering of her countrymen, status would always be a concern.

  “You seem pensive,” Lord Jasper said as he led her to the corner of the makeshift dance floor.

  “Just considering the sights of Greece,” she lied. “I’ve never been there.”

  “We’ll have to explore it together,” he said. “Along with Mrs. Hodges, of course.”

  She gave him a close look. “Lord Jasper, are you planning to use me a shield against Miss Taylor’s attentions? How unflattering.”

  The faintest flush colored his cheekbones. “No, Miss Strathmore. Primarily, I would like to see Greece in your company because I find that company interesting.”

  The words were not delivered in a flirtatious manner, and the sincerity in his voice set her quite off-balance. She wanted to find reasons to dislike the man, not stumble deeper into attraction.

  The trio finished their introduction and launched into a waltz. Of course it had to be a waltz. It seemed fate was conspiring against her. The more distance she desired from Lord Jasper, the more closely they were thrown together.

  He gathered her into his arms, one hand at her waist, the other clasping her gloved hand. They fit together distressingly well. When he stepped out, she followed, discovering that their paces were equally well matched.

  Lord Jasper danced with restrained confidence—much the same way as he moved through the world. His steps were not as lighthearted as Lord Weston’s or as ostentatious as some of the other gentlemen she’d danced with in the past, but she rather preferred his style.

  “I await your answer,” he said. “Will you see the sights of Greece with me?”

  She could refuse to accompany him, of course, but that would leave him to Miss Taylor. While the young lady was harmless, Isabelle would not put it past Miss Primm to engineer a situation where Lord Jasper was forced to propose to her charge.

  And, in truth, he was not such bad company as she’d first though
t.

  “You scarcely know me,” she said at last.

  “True enough. But I do know of your family. After you mentioned botanical expeditions and Tunisia, I recalled that I’ve attended a few of your father’s lectures at Kew Gardens. He’s Sir Edward Strathmore, is he not?”

  “He is.”

  “And you were on the expedition to Tunisia where he discovered that new species of flower?”

  “Yes.” There was no reason to elaborate.

  “How extraordinary, for all of you. I’d be interested in hearing your account of that journey.”

  He whirled her into a spin, and her mind whirled as well. It was difficult to think clearly with the warm air wafting around her and Lord Jasper holding her a touch too near.

  “It was not a . . . pleasant trip for me,” she said once they were traversing the deck again. “I prefer not to speak of it.”

  He gave her a thoughtful look. “Allow me one question, if you will?”

  She should say no. Still, she owed him a kindness in return for their adventure in Tangier, which had been, after all, her fault. No doubt he was curious about the discovery of the flower.

  “Very well,” she said. “Just one question.”

  “Was there a gentleman associated with this unpleasantness?”

  She drew in a quick breath. Lord Jasper was far more perceptive than she’d given him credit for, drat him. But she had agreed to answer.

  “Yes, there was,” she said quietly.

  His expression hardened, but not toward her. “I know we are newly met, Miss Strathmore. But if there’s anything to be done about the fellow, I hope you will consider calling upon me.”

  She blinked up at him, finding his concern both touching and discomfiting. “That’s very gallant of you. However, I dealt with the gentleman myself some time ago—with assistance from Mrs. Hodges.”

  They were waltzing past her companion at that very moment. Lord Jasper glanced at Mrs. Hodges, then back to Isabelle.

  “I would not like to be on the receiving end of your companion’s ire,” he said. “Or yours, for that matter. Forgive me if I’ve been presumptuous and offended you, Miss Strathmore. It was never my intention.”