Chapter Thirteen
THE TREES SPARKLED AS WITH a thousand stars. She lifted her eyes to the branches. Lanterns shone overhead as if hung there by fairies to usher them into an enchanted spring party. Nearby, a band played a familiar country dance that had even the refined noblemen and ladies swaying to the jig as they traversed the grand walk.
She felt her hand guided into the crook of Erik’s arm, and she smiled up at him. She longed to pull him into the dance and give in to the revelry, but that was what Muriel of old would have done. The new Muriel was too much of a lady to breach etiquette, and yet—she tugged his arm, dragging him down a bit to be heard over the music. “Before we join the others in the left colonnades of supper boxes, do you think we can explore some? I know they are expecting us. However, they might be late, and we might be waiting in the supper box for the rest of our party to arrive for ages yet.”
For his answer, he pressed a hand to the small of her back and hustled them past the fountain in front of the semicircle where the diners looked out from their boxes to view the merriments. She laughed, knowing they were running to avoid being spotted by their party. Safely on the corner and out of sight, he slowed, leading her into the grove where a beautiful four-storied round orchestra box stood in the center. Beneath its domed roof and pointed turrets, dazzling lights lit an orchestra playing the most lively tune.
Erik chuckled.
“What?” She looked around for the source of his laughter.
He nodded to her slippers. “Your feet have not ceased tapping since coming ashore. Would you care to dance?”
Her brows lifted. “Do you know this dance? It is not one you would find in many London ballrooms.”
He grinned and bowed, flipping his hand out to her. “We were not so refined aboard ship as you may imagine, Miss Beau. I can dance a country jig as well as any ballroom quadrille.”
She rested hers atop his, a spark traveling up her arm as she gave in to the impulse for the country dance at last. The whirling, unrefined dance left her gasping in delight at Erik’s adept dancing. He had not been exaggerating. She whirled in his arms, her shawl slipping from her shoulder and the lights blurring until all she beheld was Erik. For the first time since coming to London, she felt truly free.
The song concluded too quickly, and Erik led her from the circle of dancers, out to the pathway, past the second colonnade, and toward the entrance that would eventually lead them back to the supper boxes.
“What pulls you to Draybridge?”
“Pardon?” He tilted his head.
“Forgive my abrupt change in topic. Sometimes I forget to transition and ask what I am really thinking.” She ran her fingers down the trim of her shawl. “Even at our first meeting, you confessed how your heart longs to be at sea, but lately I have sensed turmoil in this choice between remaining on land and returning to the sea. What makes you wish to stay? Do you have friends in Draybridge?”
He lifted his gaze to the lanterns hanging in the branches. “I suppose my hesitation is that after being in Draybridge for the garden party, I felt the need for my presence.”
“Your steward does an admirable job, though.”
“Indeed. In fact, my steward was my former second-in-command. Mr. Mayfield had some family obligations that called him to shore and required a steadier, less dangerous means of income. I needed a steward, so I offered him the position. I expect it would feel like old times should I return and we again worked side by side.”
“Miss Beau, there you are!” Lord Traneford called, the rest of their party trailing behind him, including the Whelans and Viscount Sullivan. “I hope we did not keep you waiting at the entrance for long.”
“Lord Traneford.” She dipped her head. “We have been taking in the grounds for a half hour and have been well entertained by the delights of the gardens.” She smiled and curtsied to the new guests, briefly clasping the Dowager Viscountess Traneford’s hand with both of her own. “What a pleasant surprise. I did not know the Whelans or Lord Sullivan would be joining our party.”
“Lord Traneford invited us over another game of whist last night, and, as Lord Sullivan was with us, he extended the invitation to him as well,” Elena interjected, beaming as she embraced Muriel. “Quite the merry party we have become. Now, where are the supper boxes? I must admit that I am famished.”
Within a quarter of an hour, all were seated in a supper box. Muriel found herself between Lord Traneford and Erik. Unlike formal dinners, the conversation did not follow turns, which led to the boxes surrounding them filling the colonnades with riotous conversation and bawdy laughter.
“What do you think of the supper boxes?” Erik called in her ear, just loud enough to be heard above the noise.
“Diverting, but not conducive for much else,” she replied with a giggle. A deep laugh from a nearby box caught her ear, ripping her from the moment. She stiffened. It couldn’t be him. She dared a glance, spying a familiar fleshy chin and painstakingly arranged windswept hair.
As if hearing her thoughts, Sir Josiah Montgomery lifted his attention from his mistress’s neck to spot her across the way. He narrowed his eyes at her, leaving little doubt that he had yet to forgive her for tossing him to the side when she discovered his transgressions in Dover and, therefore, ending his trading business with her father … which would account for his dislike of her.
“Miss Beau?” Erik lightly touched her hand.
She looked at the tablecloth, her cheeks heating as her stomach turned. She swallowed. She must not allow seeing Montgomery with his tart to unhinge her. Daring to glance his way again, she found Montgomery still staring at her.
“I—I think I need some air.” She stumbled to standing. Lord Traneford and Erik rose with her—concern in their countenances. She waved off everyone’s inquiries with a forced laugh.
Lady Ingram grasped her arm as she tried to pass by, keeping her from leaving the box. “What’s wrong?”
“I will be back momentarily, Lady Ingram. It’s rather too warm.”
Erik reached her side, but before he spoke, the Dowager Viscountess looked to her son. “Tristian, dear, will you escort Miss Beau?”
“It would be my honor.” He bowed to Muriel and extended his arm. “Shall we?”
A moonlit amble with the man who thinks he is my beau? What could go wrong?She plastered on a smile and accepted his arm. Anything was better than having Montgomery and his mistress stare at her all evening.
“Well, I, for one, agree with my husband. I think it is time for you to retire, Lord Draycott, and enjoy all that London has to offer.” Lady Ingram gestured to their surroundings.
“There is time for that yet after I finish serving the Crown,” Erik replied, praying for a redirection in conversation. Where is she? He gripped his hand into a fist at the thought of Muriel with Lord Traneford out in the garden in the moonlight. This place did not have a promenade dubbed Lovers Walk for naught. He rose from the table as their order arrived. “If you’ll excuse me, I believe I will take some air as well.”
Captain Ingram’s eyes gleamed. Of course the man recognized Erik’s true mission.
Erik pushed past the crowds to the promenade lined with torches, which added an even more festive air to the thousands of lanterns dotting the trees. If this did not cause a couple to fall in love, he did not know what would. He broke into a trot, only skidding to a halt on the gravel when he spied a couple seated on a bench along the tree line.
“I believe we are well suited, Miss Beau.” Lord Traneford grasped her hand in his.
Erik gritted his teeth. Is he actually proposing already?
“I have been engaged twice before, my lord. I do not intend on becoming engaged for a fourth time.” Muriel straightened her shoulders.
Traneford laughed. “A fourth? Are you already planning on breaking my heart too, Miss Beau?”
“I am simply saying I have learned from painful experience that rushing into an engagement will gain us nothing but embarrassment and potentially heartache if a longer acquaintance discovers undesirable traits in one another before a wedding is discussed.” Muriel dipped her head. “Not even a title can convince me to enter into an engagement lightly.”
Erik’s pulse slowed. The lady truly had learned from her past. If he had not already believed it, her declaration solidified it.
“My heart will not be easily swayed. If you honestly believe we would make a good match beyond the simple exchange of wealth for title, you must persuade me, sir.”
Persuade her? What on earth does that mean?Surely she did not mean to insinuate that she wished for the man to kiss her?
“Then, convince you I shall.” Lord Traneford leaned toward her, his lips pursing.
No!Erik burst from his hiding place, trying to keep his breathing tranquil.
Muriel shot to her feet, and Lord Traneford sent him a scowl.
“Sir Alexander and Lady Ingram were wondering what was keeping you both. Dinner has arrived.”
“As much as I loathe the interruption during a most interesting tête-à-tête, I’ve been gutfoundered for an hour. Shall we, Miss Beau?” Lord Traneford extended his arm to her.
“I’m loath to keep you from your meal, Lord Traneford, but I fear I may faint if I must return to that crowded supper box at the moment.” Muriel flicked her feathered fan.
“Even with it being open air?” Doubt tinged Traneford’s query.
She offered a helpless shrug.
“No fear. I shall stay with her for a few moments yet.” Erik strode to her side, aiding her to the bench seat once more. “Lord Traneford, would you tell the Ingrams we shall return in a quarter of an hour?”
Traneford scowled. Erik hid a smirk. He had played his cards well.
“Very well.” Traneford slowly nodded, starting for the boxes. “If you haven’t returned in that time, I shall come in search of you.”
Muriel slumped back onto the bench with a groan.
“Muriel? Are you truly unwell?” He glanced down the path to Traneford’s retreating figure.
“Do you recall my mentioning a fiancé with a mistress?”
He tensed. “How could I not?”
“I spotted Josiah Montgomery in the colonnade. It’s the first time we’ve seen each other since my stepfather threw him out of our house after I revealed what I discovered in Dover.”
Erik’s fists clenched. “Did Montgomery say something to you?”
She shook her head. “He was too far away. But he gave me such a glare I thought he might burn me in my seat.” She grasped Erik’s hand. “I cannot return until I know he is gone. I cannot bear to see him with her. I thought I was beyond these feelings of mortification.” She swallowed. “Did I tell you what he told me when I discovered them in a scandalously passionate embrace in a tearoom?”
Erik ran his thumb over her hand, waiting for her to continue even as a surge of protectiveness for this woman called him to leap into action. “I will not betray your confidence if you wish to disclose it to me.”
“He told me I should be happy enough that he was marrying me, because I was only a tabby baker’s daughter, and I should have expected him to have a mistress as I am not all that pretty, and most gentlemen have a ladybird on the side in any event.”
“If you point him out to me, I will personally see to it that he departs at once.” Erik growled, his fist curling even as his wrist protested the act.
She shook her head. “I want nothing more to do with him. I do not wish to see him, much less speak with him again.”
“The man was a fool for what he did to you and in serious need of spectacles.” Spying a tear glide down her cheek, he gently wiped it away with his thumb. Such a kind, gentle spirit. That man did not deserve you. “You are the most beautiful woman I have ever beheld.”
Her long, tear-clumped lashes lifted and she studied him. “And you are the most handsome man I have ever beheld.”
Erik’s chest tightened. He could not allow himself the liberty of dreaming of a life with her when he was not free. He was not like Montgomery. He would not take advantage of her pure, trusting nature. He laughed and extended his arm to her. “On that note, shall we be getting back? And I promise if you see he is still there, I will find an excuse to sweep you away at once.”
Muriel swiped at her cheeks. “He’d better be away, because I’ve heard the heart cake here is divine, and I have been longing to test it.”
“In that case, I will find a reason to have Montgomery swept away at once instead.” As he hoped, this brought a smile to her lips.
“That is exactly what my stepfather would say.”
“Speaking of your stepfather, I met a gentleman at the club just this morning who works for Mr. Fletcher on occasion.”
“Oh?” Her cheeks paled in the lantern light as her fingers resting on his arm trembled. “Wh–who was it?”
“A Mr. Coates from Coates and Sons Shipping.” He wove them about the crowds surrounding the supper boxes, discreetly watching for her expression.
The apprehension fled her face, replaced with … relief? “Ah, Mr. Coates! I remember him well. How is he?”
Who was she expecting, to cause such a transformation?“He is well, albeit long-tongued.”
She shook her head. “That is what I told my stepfather. However, he insisted on having someone ready should our first supplier fall through, and Mr. Coates was eager enough to accept Father’s rate.”
“According to Mr. Coates, it seems your first supplier has failed on multiple occasions. Why would your stepfather keep on someone so unreliable?”
She shrugged. “Father keeps me out of the business side and only calls upon me to aid him in selecting patterns for tea sets and occasionally act as his emissary to the tea warehouse when he is ill. The only reason I know so much about Mr. Coates is that he was quite talkative during one such inspection to the warehouse after he delivered a shipment.” She rose on her tiptoes, craning to look over the crowd. “I cannot find Sir Josiah. I believe we are safe.”
Lord Traneford spotted them from the box and waved, the rest of the party spying them at once. Knowing his questions would have to wait, Erik led her to the box. He would send a message to Ingram tonight and request he discreetly look into Mr. Fletcher’s suppliers.