Chapter Eleven

May 27, 1817

Waterstone Place

Mayfair, London

Why did sheinsist that I attend tonight?

Cora frowned as she navigated through the crush of people heading toward the smallish ballroom on the first floor. Since she only had three gowns in her possession, she'd worn the one of mint green that featured a gold satin sash around the waist, lace about the bodice, and gauzy, golden, short sleeves at the shoulder. It wasn't lavish or elaborate, but it suited her frame and complexion and made her blue eyes stand out.

"Come, girl. Stop dawdling," Mrs. Bromington demanded.

With a sigh, Cora left the relative safety of the base of the stairs where she'd paused and rushed to catch up to the older woman.

The last thing she wanted to do with her time was spend it with her stubborn and acerbic charge. It had been two days since she'd come together with Peregrine, two days since she'd suffered an emotional breakdown in his arms, two days since he'd comforted her and indulged her wish to couple.

And it had been beyond amazing.

To say nothing of her giving him permission to court her again. Why had she done it? Wasn't such a relationship between them far too complicated with too many obstacles littering the path? Part of her was flattered and excited, while another part of her was anxious and filled with dread, for any type of courtship would surely draw ire from her employer.

To his credit, Peregrine had come to call yesterday. But he was denied entry into the house, and after trying to gain access a few times, he'd apparently given up to fight another day, leaving a bouquet of wildflowers with Mr. Riley at the door.

She admired his tenacity, but he would face blatant opposition from her employer. Then she frowned at said woman. How did Mrs. Bromington know the Viscount and Viscountess of Waterstone? For that matter, why had her employer spent so much time on her toilette when usually she didn't care?

"I'm surprised you wished to attend with such crowds, Mrs. Bromington." Since she wasn't in charge of her employer's correspondence, she never knew which invitations had been issued or accepted.

"It isn't a crime to wish to mingle in society. My husband enjoyed it, certainly, and he had the knack of making connections regardless of class." She swept her gaze about the assemblage. "Ah, there. Since we arrived too late for the receiving line, let us greet our host and hostess."

Cora's frown deepened. "You are acquainted with them?"

"I should say so." But she didn't expand on the topic.

Without context and more than a little curiosity, Cora trailed after her employer, ever mindful of the cane. If someone was in her way, Mrs. Bromington simply rapped the end against shins and calves until a path was cleared.

The couple talked with a few others at the farthest point of the room, and when Mrs. Bromington approached, the viscountess broke off her conversation to rest the full of her attention on the older woman.

"Hello, Mother." Her smile was genuine. "I'd hoped you might accept the invitation even though you ignore most of them I send."

Shock went through Cora's chest. Her lower jaw gaped slightly. "Lady Waterstone is your daughter?" she asked in a low voice from Mrs. Bromington's side.

"She is." As the older woman glanced back at her, a trace of pride went over her face. "The girl married well." To the viscountess, she said, "You ought to know by now I am quite choosy where I spend my time."

"So it matters not that your own flesh and blood wishes to have you about?" Hurt reflected in the woman's eyes, so much like Mrs. Bromington's, except the green wasn't yet faded. "Why must you continue to be so difficult?" She lowered her voice to a mere whisper as the viscount looked on in mild concern. "I don't care about your money; I only want you in my life, to see your grandchildren."

Without comment, Cora watched the drama unfold with undisguised curiosity. Perhaps in her early forties, the viscountess had looks near enough to her mother's to warrant worry. Those features would turn harsh if she didn't take care of her skin… or if she fell into bitterness.

"Or you could bring your children to see me. I don't know why it is my responsibility to visit with all my children. That would take up all my time, and I do maintain a schedule of my own." It wouldn't be true to Mrs. Bromington's nature if she proved amenable. More shocking still was the fact she'd deigned to attend this event if one of her family members was involved. She was forever disparaging their reputations to any of the servants or her friends that would listen. "Ever since you married, your time hasn't been your own and you've forgotten where you came from."

Exasperation lined the viscountess' face. "Yes, I know I've gained certain duties and responsibilities since I married, and I do have many charities that require my time, but your grandchildren are growing quickly. The oldest is fifteen. He'll go off to university soon. As for the girls, they would benefit from your wisdom."

That was debatable, but Cora held her tongue.

Mrs. Bromington sniffed. "Then bring them 'round. The only thing preventing your children from knowing me is you."

The absurdity of that statement, coupled with the confusion in Lady Waterstone's face tugged at Cora's heart. When she would have interjected, the viscountess spoke.

"We shall discuss such things later. This night is for celebrating your birthday, Mother, and it will be that much more enjoyable since you have decided to attend the festivities. My cook has made all your favorites for dinner, which will be presented at eleven o'clock after dancing."

Ah, so this is why Mrs. Bromington has come.The night centered around her, and all attention would be on her. The woman was naught but a notice sponge.

"That remains to be seen." But one corner of the older woman's mouth tipped in a smile. She nodded at Lord Waterstone, then at her daughter. "I thank you for remembering my special day. Now I'd like to visit with some friends." So saying, she moved away from the gathering.

"Of course. We will talk later." Lady Waterstone nodded. Finally, her gaze flicked to Cora. "Please, enjoy yourself this evening. Mother can sometimes be… difficult."

"That is perhaps a great understatement, my lady, but thank you."

"I try to please her, to placate her at times, but she is stubborn."

She nodded. "Thank you for your kindness this evening." Then she hurried after her charge. Once she caught up to Mrs. Bromington, she laid a hand on her arm. "Why did you not tell me it was your birthday?"

The older woman frowned. "There wasn't a need for you to know."

"But I would have given you a small token to mark the day."

"As I said, I don't require such. It would only add clutter to the house."

Annoyance streaked through Cora's chest. "Of course you didn't tell me, because now you can lord it over my head that I didn't even do that for you." Why did anything about the woman surprise her anymore?

"Don't be crass, girl." The widow waved a hand. "I wish to gossip with my friends. Find something to occupy yourself."

Cora briefly pointed her gaze to the ceiling before resting it on Mrs. Bromington. "Make certain you thank your daughter for the honor of the ball. It was a lovely gesture."

"Ha!" Mrs. Bromington snorted. "It is the least she can do for me. I gave her life, raised her with enough manners and properness and spirit that she caught the eye of a member of the beau monde. Then she left me."

What a skewed way of looking at things. "She is allowed to have her own life. That is what daughters do. Grow up and marry. Have their own families. Sons too." Yet she—Cora—wasn't even giving herself that same grace.

"They shouldn't forget their mothers."

"Then the mothers shouldn't deport themselves with such bitterness and angst that no one wishes to be around them." Cora frowned. "You consistently make yourself a terror so that you've shoved away your family. Why, I wonder?"

"You are quite cheeky tonight." The widow stared at her, no doubt shocked from Cora's audacity in speech, then she offered a half grin. "Make certain you don't involve yourself with a man tonight. You are here for me, and it would behoove you to remember your place."

"Of course, Mrs. Bromington." The woman was beyond aggravating, but for the moment, she was the reason for Cora's time in London, and sending a portion of that income back home to her parents was going toward paying the taxes on the country estate.

Finding a chair amidst the collection set up along one of the walls of the ballroom that housed an assortment of wallflowers, companions, and other unpopular women, Cora sighed as she sat. This certainly wasn't the life she'd wished to lead, but there was nothing for it. If she wished to help her family, she would endure, and seeing Mrs. Bromington interact with her daughter made her appreciate her own family even more.

A few murmurs went through the room as a country reel formed on the dance floor. A few of the young wallflowers turned to look toward the door at the top of the room. Cora glanced in that direction as well, and when Captain Wetherford entered the ballroom flushed with pleasure and victory, her heart fluttered, and the pulse accelerated.

Then she frowned. Had he trysted with Miss Beaufort or someone else to make him look so fresh and virile? Immediately, confusion gripped her. Wasn't he supposed to be courting her? Not having any answers, her gaze bounced to the man at his side, with the blond looks and form of a Grecian god. Perhaps he was a friend, for the two men talked quite animatedly to each other just inside the doorway while the country reel got underway.

As she watched, he ended the conversation, and when he made eye contact with her, he winked and slowly made his way around the perimeter of the room toward her location.

Oh, good heavens, he's coming this way!

Far too restless to remain seated, Cora rose to her feet. She hid her hands within the folds of her skirting to still their shaking. By the time he came to a stop in front of her, she harbored mixed feelings. Happiness warred with annoyance.

"Good evening, Miss Hasting. I trust you have been well?"

"Well enough, I suppose," she said in a low voice, conscious that the women around them watched with interest. "For a man who wishes to court me, where the devil have you been?" Especially after they'd come together like a summer storm two days before.

He huffed. "I did call yesterday but was denied entry. Did you receive the flowers?"

She blew out a breath. How could she remain out of sorts when he had tried? "Yes, they are lovely. I adore wildflowers. They remind me of—"

"That day on your father's estate," he finished in a whisper, and there was wicked promise in his hazel eyes that sent tingles down her spine.

"Yes." Drat him for being far too charming. It was impossible to maintain her annoyance toward him. "I'm sorry Mrs. Bromington has been less than a delight. I would have liked to see you yesterday when you called."

"It is nothing that I didn't expect, but I will try harder." He took one of her hands and brought it to his lips. "I am glad to see you tonight. That was an unexpected surprise."

"For me as well." She came toward him a tiny step. "The viscountess is Mrs. Bromington's daughter, if you can believe that."

"Oh?" Surprise went over his face. "Interesting. I was asked here by his son, to speak to a group of former military men before the ball officially opened." Pleasure lined his face, and it was one of the first times she'd seen him truly content. "My speech was appreciated, and if I do say so myself, my audience appreciated me as well." A waver entered his voice. "It makes such a difference when people accept me despite my scarred face."

"That is such a lovely sentiment." Daring much, she laid a hand on his arm. "I am glad you are finding an activity in society that gives you such confidence."

"As am I." With a half-grin that awoke the butterflies in her belly, he led her away from the grouping of chairs then pulled her behind a grouping of potted palms and ferns that acted as a partial barrier. There were a few such groupings throughout the room. "You are lovely in that color."

"Thank you." She couldn't have enough of him, but the only thing she could do was rove her gaze up and down his person. Clad in dark evening clothing with a silver satin waistcoat, he was far too handsome for her peace of mind. "Have you opened the shop yet?"

"Soon. Perhaps in a day or two. Everything is unpacked and the paper is down from the window." Excitement danced in his eyes. "Let us hope someone will find interest in what I have to offer, or merely come to see objects from my travels." He shrugged, which drew her attention to the breadth of his shoulders. "On that subject, I brought you something."

"Oh?" When he removed something from his waistcoat pocket and held it up, her heart skipped a beat. A hair comb rested on his gloved palm. The teeth were silver, but the top was decorated with stars and moons carved from ivory.

"I thought you might like this. To match your necklace." His gaze dropped to her décolletage.

An audible gasp escaped her, while one of her hands flew to her chest. "You noticed."

"I did." Emotions shadowed the depths of his eyes, but they were largely unreadable. "I gave you that ring to commemorate our engagement."

The thin silver band with the rounded top of ivory had graced her finger the whole of their engagement period. The morning he left her at the church, she'd taken the ring off, but couldn't part from it. Instead, she wore it on a chain most of the time. "I, uh… I wear it nearly every day. Couldn't bear to leave it lying around to be stolen. It's pretty and valuable."

"It is. I procured it in a tiny shop near the Horn of Africa while docked for supplies. At the time I didn't know why I'd bought it."

She nodded and blinked away the tears that sprang into her eyes. "It reminds me of you," she admitted in a soft voice, for that had been one of the sweetest days of her life, and they had made good use of that wildflower meadow afterward.

"Ah ha!" Peregrine winked. "The very fact you kept it and wear it often means you aren't as indifferent toward me as you want me to think."

"Perhaps." A blush warmed her cheeks.

"At least there is that." He moved behind her, and then he slipped the comb into her hair, just to the side of her upswept tresses. "Perfection." His fingertips lingered slightly longer at the crux of her shoulder. "I hope to always bestow such gifts upon you."

"It is sweet." She hoped that Mrs. Bromington wasn't watching them. "And I already adore it. Thank you."

As he came back in front of her, he trailed his fingers over her shoulder to brush the pad of his thumb along the side of her jaw. "If we were alone, I'd kiss you senseless. To remind you that I'm in earnest."

The blush in her cheeks continued to blaze, and suddenly she was tongue-tied. She touched a hand to his chest. "I—"

"Am I interrupting?"

Immediately, she sprang away from him. "No, I… We… Ah, we were merely talking," she said, as she recognized the man as the same who'd come into the ballroom with Peregrine.

The captain chuckled, and the sound tickled through her chest. "Miss Hasting and I were merely talking." He glanced at his friend. "Lord Maubrey, this is Miss Hasting, companion to Mrs. Bromington."

"Ah, the dragon's handler." His grin was wide as he availed himself of her hand and swiftly brought it to his lips. "A pleasure to meet you. I have heard much about you from Peregrine."

"Have you known him long?" Though he was quite charming, he didn't set her heartbeat to racing like the captain did.

He put a hand to his chest and assumed an expression of mock outrage as he stared at Peregrine. "You have told her nothing of me?" His blond hair glimmered golden in the candlelight. A few inches taller than Peregrine, he was slightly leaner but no less imposing.

"I'm afraid when we are together, there are other conversations to keep us occupied," Peregrine said as he bounced his gaze between them.

"I can well imagine." The viscount slipped a hand to the small of her back. "Come, Miss Hasting. A waltz is forming. Let me partner you in this set since my friend has such an appalling lack of manners that he hasn't asked you yet."

Peregrine glowered. "I was getting 'round to it."

"Oh, I don't… I couldn't. I'm not here as a guest." Mrs. Bromington would dress her down for certain.

"Nonsense. You are the daughter of a baron, are you not?"

"I am." Cora smiled. Clearly, Peregrine had told this man about her. It was a bit lovely to see the captain jealous. "Perhaps just one set, then. I would enjoy that, Lord Maubrey. Thank you." With a parting glance at Peregrine, she allowed the viscount to escort her to an empty portion of the dance floor. "I will no doubt be lectured by Mrs. Bromington once she sees me dancing."

"Tell her that a viscount insisted, and you really shouldn't deny a member of the beau monde a request." Then he winked as they waited for the opening notes.

"That will undoubtedly work. I hope I'll remember the steps. It has been rather a long time." Thank goodness this was a Viennese waltz. It was one she and her sisters learned early on in their lives.

"Fear not, Miss Hasting. I won't let you fall." For the next few moments, they concentrated on the steps and the intricate hand placements.

Soon enough, Cora remembered the patterns, and to her delight, she enjoyed the exercise. When she came back to partner the viscount, she smiled. "You have known Peregrine for years, yes?"

"Since school, and we served on the same ship in the navy. I was his navigator, the man who kept his crew in check and carried out his orders when the first mate was occupied." His eyes were kind as they circled around each other. "I was also the man who dragged his unconscious self from the fire onboard the ship, who saved him so he can vex me now."

"I wasn't aware." As questions whirled about her mind, she switched partners, exchanged smiles with that man while she reeled internally. Once back with the viscount, she peered up into his face. "You rescued him." It wasn't a question.

"How could I not?" Shadows flitted through his eyes. "He is my best friend, sometimes my only friend, because of what the war has done to my mind, and he needed me in that moment. There was nothing else I could do; I want him to be happy and at peace now, but he is so damned stubborn."

"That is quite true." Her fingers glided over his palm in the movements of the dance.

"I am glad he's courting you, for he is often insecure due to his injuries."

"He needn't be. The man is as handsome as he's ever been, perhaps even more so now." Then the steps pulled her away and she had to wait to continue the conversation.

Lord Maubrey looked at her with speculation in his eyes when they came back together. "Obviously, I think Peregrine is one of the best people I know. He is having a difficult time transitioning to civilian life, and there is a certain anxiety regarding the success of his shop."

She frowned. "Why?"

"The man wants to be seen as a favorable catch, for he is adamant that he makes an impression on you." Nothing but earnestness lay stamped on his face. "It is no secret he still has feelings for you, Miss Hasting."

"I know." She dropped her gaze to the knot of his cravat. "Perhaps he already has made an impression." It both made her excited but worried.

"Go gently with him. He might appear confident, but deep down, he fears that he won't succeed. As a ship captain, he excelled, but being a civilian is a different beast." As the dance wound down, he looked at her with all soberness. "Above everything, he is trying to carve out a life for himself that can support a wife and perhaps a family, but he has a certain way of looking at things that might come off as too overbearing." He kept her on the dance floor for a few seconds after the other dancers disbursed. "Please don't hurt my friend, Miss Hasting. He was a broken man following your failed engagement. I hesitate to think of what will happen to him if you grind his heart beneath your heel."

A stab of guilt went through her chest. "I give you my word that I will be kind to him no matter what." That was the best promise she could give, for in this moment, she remained confused by him.

"I will hold you to that." Then he escorted her to the sidelines where Peregrine waited. "I am going to give my good wishes to the hosts."

An unexpected giggle escaped Cora. "The viscountess is Mrs. Bromington's mother. She threw this ball to celebrate her mother's birthday."

Lord Maubrey's eyebrows soared. "Then I shall wish the widow well, and it will perhaps give you a few moments of freedom, Miss Hasting."

"Thank you." She gave him a smile, and went he melted into the milling crowds, she looked at Peregrine. "He is quite lovely. I'm glad you have him in your life."

His throat worked as he battled with emotions. "Thank you." With a graveled voice, he offered his crooked arm to her. "Come with me for a glass of champagne while Charles does the pretty with your dragon."

"I would like that." The viscount's words still bounced through her mind as she put her fingers on his sleeve, and he escorted her from the room.

At the end of the corridor, a table was set up where a footman poured flutes of champagne and a maid handed them out.

"I must say, you seemed as if you enjoyed yourself while with Maubrey," Peregrine said as he gave her a flute of the bubbly wine.

"I did, actually. It's so refreshing to have fun at a society event instead of being told to make myself invisible because I am merely a companion." When she took a sip, the bubbles tickled her nose, and she sneezed.

The captain grinned. Flutters scudded through her lower belly. "Shall I call upon you tomorrow?"

"Yes, please, but I am on duty tomorrow. Thursday would be a more opportune time since it is my day off."

"Ah, but perhaps I wish to do battle with my biggest adversary." He winked as he took his own sip.

"Miss Hasting? Where the devil are you?"

Cora met Peregrine's eyes and laughed. Even to her own ears it was a genuine sound. Then she sighed. "Apparently, I need to go. Heaven forbid I enjoy myself." With a shrug, she handed him her flute. "It is my lot, but don't give up, Captain. We can't both of us let life defeat us, can we?"

Annoyance flashed quickly through his expression. "I'm still here, Miss Hasting, and I have no plans to let the dragon tramp all over me."

"Until tomorrow, then." As she blinked away tears of relief, Cora waved and then hurried to the ballroom door, where she was immediately set upon by the widow. "Let's see you settled comfortably, hmm? Dinner will be served soon, but I'll wager you wish to watch the dancing…"