5. Jonto
Jonto
Celie smiled and batted innocent eyes at her young friend, a subtle message that wasn’t lost on Jonto, who bit back a smile.
As her neighbor, Lady Brighton was someone she wanted to get to know, but putting that aside, it had been her uncommon beauty that had initially caught Jonto’s eye the moment she walked through the door.
It had taken only a moment to ascertain there was no ring on her finger, and while that wasn’t a reliable indication of a woman’s marital status, it was a start.
Earlier, while she and Nico had been trying to enjoy their meal, several gentlemen, their wives, and the occasional daughter—although Jonto guessed most were holding their marriageable offspring back until they ascertained whether the Admiral…
and his money…would be a suitable and honorable match—stopped by their table to introduce themselves.
On one such occasion, she asked a gentleman and his wife whether they were familiar with her new neighbor, Lady Brighton.
She’d been delighted when the man pointed out this prickly creature seated before her.
The man had leaned in and, with conspiratorial bonhomie, said, “She’s a beauty, but unfortunately, in the same way that a rose’s sweet, honeyed scent masks the threat of the prickly thorns hidden beneath its leaves, while Lady Brighton is unquestionably a beautiful woman, she’s consistent in rebuffing any advances made to her.
” He leaned forward a bit more. “May I offer you a bit of advice, one man to another, My Lord?”
Jonto nodded, “Of course. I’d be grateful for any advice you could give me on matters you think pertinent to my situation.”
The man’s chest puffed out, and he preened, unconsciously grooming both pointed ends of his mustache at the compliment.
“I only say that there are many eligible young ladies in our community, and while I see she’s caught your eye, I should warn you that it would be folly to think Lady Brighton might be open to any degree of courtship on your part. ”
The man’s wife bobbed her head, looking incredibly like a pigeon pecking seed kernels off the sidewalk.
“Her mother was a queer one, and she inherited some of those tendencies.” As her husband had done, she leaned in and spoke in a quieter tone.
“I, of course, don’t like to speak badly of anyone, My Lord, but I’m afraid she drinks brandy and smokes cigars.
And she gambles down at the…” Here, she glanced over both shoulders and then looked back at Jonto.
Her voice dropped to a nearly inaudible whisper. “Enigma Club.”
She turned a pointed glare on her husband as though it were somehow his fault that Lady Brighton was allowed anywhere near a betting game of chance.
She straightened, clasped her hands in front of her waist, and raised her voice to what was presumably her normal volume.
“I don’t know why the men allow it, as no other women are allowed inside, but I suppose it was because of her mother who never took no for an answer and didn’t care one jot for the social mores of society. ”
Jonto’s brows had risen in surprise, and intrigued, she’d turned her attention back to Lady Brighton.
“Indeed?” Things were looking up as far as she was concerned.
She nodded sagely. “Even at her, shall we say, more mature age, at least as far as an unmarried woman is concerned, she still rebuffs advances from gentlemen who might be willing to court her? I’d think she’d be eager to welcome any man who’d have her hand in marriage at this point.
” Jonto paused, “She must be at least, what, thirty, thirty-one?”
Jonto’s thoughts returned to the present, and she smiled as she recalled the man and his wife echoing her earlier words. “Indeed.”
Standing at Lady Brighton’s table listening to Miss Smythson baiting her, Jonto decided to join in the fun. “Yes, Lady Brighton. I bow to your genteel upbringing and ask what you might suggest would be the proper, socially correct form of address to use with your uncle?”
Isla narrowed her eyes, apparently trying to decide whether she’d accept this level of impertinence from a man she’d only met moments ago.
Straightening her spine and drawing her chin inward with the poise of a seasoned blueblood, Isla replied with an air of cool detachment.
“Being a member of the nobility, My Lord, I can only assume you received the same proper training in etiquette as I unless, perhaps, your familial title was an honorary one and thus you weren’t raised in an environment where you would, as a matter of course, receive proper instruction on conducting oneself in a social or business setting? ”
Jonto couldn’t help herself. She barked out a laugh and bowed slightly. “Well played, My Lady, well played.” Oh, how she’d missed bantering with a sharp-tongued, intelligent woman.
Ellie hurried over, carrying a silver tray.
On it were the special, white porcelain plates the proprietor reserved for wealthier, high-ranking guests.
She served Isla first, carefully setting the plate in front of her along with a small bowl containing the mixed vegetables.
“Begging your pardon for interrupting, Milord, but I was afraid Lady Brighton’s food might go cold.
There you are, Milady. No one prepares the salmon better than my Georgie, as you well know.
And for you, Miss Smythson, beef collops, just the way you like them. ”
Ellie turned her lively chocolate-colored eyes on Jonto. “I hope you enjoyed your collops, Milord?”
Pulling in a breath and closing her eyes as though savoring the meal a second time, Jonto grinned and nodded before opening them again.
The main purpose of immediately coming to eat at a public inn after dropping anchor in the bay was so that their new neighbor's first impression of the scary pirates was one of nobility and friendliness rather than the bloodthirsty heathens their imaginations almost certainly conjured.
When they’d driven off the enemy’s sea-born fleet, the grateful King and his counselors had promised to send word out far and wide that the pirates meant no one any harm. Still, she’d left her men on board the Jest, and she and Nico had come to ensure a favorable first impression.
Knowing someone like Ellie, who worked in a public establishment, would most certainly spread the word about the pirate and his first mate, Jonto produced her most winning smile.
“It was wonderful. Rich and savory, and the meat was tender. Does your cook sear the beef? I thought I tasted a slight caramelized flavor.”
Ellie’s countenance brightened like sunshine shining through an open window. Her peasant accent returned with her excitement. “Oh, aye, me Georgie marinates th’ meat in all kinds of exotic spices, seein’ as we’re in a ocean port where ships bring ’em in from all over th’ world.”
“I thought as much.” Ignoring the woman’s obvious lapse in diction, Jonto pulled two silvers from her pocket and held them out for Ellie to take.
“The one is for you, for the excellent service we received, and please deliver the second to your cook. I don’t believe I’ve tasted finer collops anywhere in the known world. ”
Ellie stared at the coins momentarily before reaching out with a shaking hand and carefully plucking them from Jonto’s calloused palm.
She slipped them into her pocket and, with something close to reverence in her voice, shyly dipped into yet another curtsy.
“I thank ya, Milord.” With that she gathered up her tray and hurried back to the kitchens.
With grudging respect, Isla acknowledged the generosity.
“That was very kind of you. She and her husband have three young children of their own, and they recently had to take in her brother’s two sons after he and his wife passed away.
” What she didn’t mention was that she’d provided one of her properties, rent-free for an entire year, to help the family in their adjustment to having two extra mouths to feed.
Jonto gave her an amiable nod. “Well, the collops really were extraordinary.” She indicated their food, which was growing cold.
“Please, don’t let us keep you from your meals.
We’ll be on our way, and I look forward to seeing you again on Saturday.
” Both she and Nico bowed slightly and left the inn.