The Lady's Second-Chance Suitor, Scott, Regina [e novels to read online .TXT] 📗

“And another, if I may,” he continued,“for Lord Peverell, who graciously funded the event.”

More applause. Peverell inclined his tawny head inacknowledgment while his sister, bride-to-be, and her mother beamed at him.

“And now,” James said, magistrate’s voice echoing in theroom, “I have the pleasure of introducing you to our most prestigiousperformer, Mademoiselle Marie-Louise Fortier, fresh from her triumph at DruryLane in London and her performance before the king and his court at Kew.”

He held out his hand, and a woman took it to climb onto thedais. Hair blacker than Quill’s swept back from a face with a wide brow and adelicate mouth, as if she thought more than spoke. The fitted crimson velvet ofher bodice, edged with gold braid, called attention to her considerable curves.

Applause rang out again.

In the alcove, the quartet that generally accompanied allassembly dances began playing. With a polite smile all around, the professionalsoprano launched into her repertoire.

“Adieu, adieu my only life.

My duty calls me from thee.

Remember thou’rt a soldier’s wife.

Those tears but ill become thee.

What though by duty I am call’dwhere thund’ring cannons rattle,

Where valor’s self might stand appal’d,where valor’s self might stand appal’d,

When on the wings of thy dear love to heav’nabove thy fervent orifons

Had flown the tender pray’r thou put up there

Shall call a guardian angel down,

Shall call a guardian angel down to watch me in the battle.”

He could almost hear the call to arms, smell the gunpowderof the cannon. Moisture dimmed his gaze. He would not wipe at his eyes. Smallwonder ancient mariners claimed that the singing of Sirens led sailors to theirdeaths. He’d have followed that sound.

He managed to keep his composure, and she finished theremaining verses to applause that lasted almost as long as her song. Shecurtsied, and James hopped back up to join her.

“That is only a taste of Mademoiselle Fortier’s abilities.Please stop by the spa at three in the afternoon for the next week, where shewill be regaling us. See Mr. Lawrence for subscriptions. This concludes ourprogram for the evening.”

The final round of applause waned as attendees rose and beganspeaking to family and friends. Time to go before anyone attempted closerassociation. Quill pushed off the wall and turned for the door.

“Captain St. Claire, wait.”

He stopped and looked back. Amazing how James could use hismagistrate’s voice to effect. His friend was shouldering his way through thecrowd, the soprano sweeping along beside him.

“Mademoiselle Fortier desired to make your acquaintance,”James explained as he and the lady joined Quill. “Mademoiselle, allow me topresent Captain Quillan St. Claire.”

It wasn’t the first time he’d been one of the village’sattractions. “Mademoiselle,” Quill said with a bow. As he straightened, heglanced to James, who shrugged, though his mouth hinted of a smile. So, hisfriend saw no underlying reason for the woman to seek Quill, for all she atleast pretended a French name.

“Captain,” she said with a warm smile, her speaking voicebetraying no more of an accent than her singing. She came just under his chin,and her eyes were the color of the sea at dawn, deep blue and not a littlemysterious. She knew what to do with those thick, black lashes, for theirfluttering beckoned him closer.

“I wanted to thank one of the heroes of the Battle of theNile,” she said. “I have already met many of Lord Nelson’s Band ofBrothers—Rear Admiral Darby, Rear Admiral Peyton, Captain Berry.”

“Then I am indeed in good company,” Quill said. “They areexcellent commanders. England is fortunate to have them.”

“And you as well,” she assured him. “I would love to hearmore of your exploits. Perhaps we could chat.”

That smile implied alone. He had had women make suchsuggestions in the past. The gilt-frogged uniform of a naval officer tended toturn heads, and never more so than after he’d become known for having fought atone of Britain’s greatest naval triumphs over the French.

“You are too kind,” he said. “But I fear my wound isencouraging me to decamp this evening.”

She made a moue. “So tragic, to be wounded in the service ofone’s country. Perhaps I could accompany you, provide some comfort.”

He shot James another look. His friend was frowning at her,as if he too knew the insistence was far too forward.

“I wouldn’t dream of depriving the citizens of Grace-by-the-Seaof your company,” Quill said. “And now, I should return you to your adoringaudience.”

“But of course.” She took a step back, then faltered, handfluttering to her brow. Quill caught her as her knees buckled.

“Mademoiselle?” James asked, taking a step closer. “Are youall right?”

A warm bundle in Quill’s arms, she fastened her gaze onto hisand refused to look away, even as her fingers dug into his arm. “Theperforming, it takes a toll.”

James stepped back. “I’ll fetch our spa physician, Doctor Bennett.”

She waved a hand. “No, no. I need no physician. Please, moncher capitaine, would you escort me back to my inn, the Swan?”

Why this insistence on his company? She had to be playingsome game beyond a momentary flirtation. The only way to discover the truth ofit was to play along.

“Of course,” Quill said, setting her gently on her feet.“Did you bring a cloak, a wrap?”

“No,” she said, gazing up at him soulfully. “I need onlyyou.”

He refused to believe it. “Then we’ll be off. James, be sogood as to ask Mr. Drummond to assist us.”

“Drummond?” she asked, frown gathering, as James strode forthe short corridor that led to the door. “I have not been introduced to aDrummond.”

“Likely not,” Quill explained, leading her toward the door.“He’s the local lamplighter. He lost an arm in Flanders. I’m sure you’ll wantto praise his service as well.”

“Of course.” Her voice was all flowery sweetness, but, foronce, he thought he felt the sting of a bee beneath the words.

Mr. Drummond was waiting as they came out of the assemblyrooms. He held his brass lantern high on a pole above his grizzled head tolight their way down the street. Some of the other attendees were making theirway home, voices soft in the night.

“I have rarely had such a distinguished escort,” she toldthe older man.

Drummond bobbed his head, beard brushing his