Read The Ice Captain's Daughter Online
Authors: S.G. Rogers
Tags: #Romance, #Historical, #Victorian, #Teen & Young Adult, #Historical Romance
Jillian glanced away.
“Ha! I knew it. And that’s not all…they’ve nicknamed you Ice Princess.” Sophia giggled. “I’m not entirely certain it was a compliment.”
Moisture began to sting Jillian’s eyes. “You’ve said enough, Sophia.”
“I’m terribly sorry, but it’s best you learn of Mr. Logan’s deceit from a friend before he has the opportunity to take advantage of you.” She paused. “If it’s any consolation, Mr. Logan won the wager last year too—with his engagement to me.”
Jillian turned away from Sophia just as a teardrop rolled down her cheek. She wiped it away surreptitiously with trembling fingers.
“Thank you for telling me. I’d like to be alone for a moment, if you don’t mind.”
“Oh, dear, you’re upset. I’m only trying to spare you my fate, Jillian.”
Sophia opened the library door and disappeared. Jillian sank into a chair. Her emotions waved from disbelief to fury and back again, much like a game of lawn tennis.
Sophia is inventing a falsehood! Since she wishes to secure Mr. Logan for herself, she has every reason to separate me from him. Her assertions cannot be believed. On the other hand, how could Sophia know Lord Yardley and Sir James had come to call unless she’d heard it from someone in their inner circle? No…it must be true! So they mock me with the name of Ice Princess, do they? Was it Mr. Logan who dreamed up the endearment? He has been discussing me with his friends, using our prior acquaintance to gain a hidden advantage in a game of sport. I clearly did not conceal how I felt about him well enough and he played upon those feelings last night. How utterly despicable of him! I’m such a stupid fool, and I’ve characterized Sophia unfairly.
By the time Jillian returned to the ballroom, the breakfast banquet had concluded and half the guests had already departed. Aunt Letty rushed over, a worried look on her face.
“Are you all right, dear? When Miss Watkins returned to the table without you, I became concerned.”
“Yes, Aunt. I just have a headache. Let us say our good-byes. I’d like to go home.”
Logan bolted from his bed with a surge of energy. His feeling of elation made it difficult to eat breakfast. Instead, he went riding in Hyde Park, letting Tuxano gallop to his heart’s content. He would have liked nothing better than to pay a call to Miss Roring afterward, but propriety dictated he wait until late afternoon. As the morning passed, Logan debated the best way to woo Miss Roring. Should he ask her to accompany him to a large, public event such as the opera or the symphony? Or would it be better to begin in a more intimate setting, such as an author reading, lunch at a café, or an art show at a small gallery? So many possibilities tumbled through his mind, he could not arrive at a conclusion. He finally elected to suggest a few outings and let Miss Roring decide according to her taste.
When he contemplated the quirk of fate that had brought her into his life, he could not believe his good fortune. Considering his despair a few short weeks ago, the contrast was marked and profound. Had she traveled with him to London, Mrs. Lyman would have laughed to see him so chipper and cheerful.
I could spend a lifetime admiring Miss Roring and it would not be enough time to show her how completely she has captured my heart.
When he compared his current feelings with those he’d had for Sophia, he was ashamed. He’d been so caught up in the chase last Season, he’d not perceived Sophia’s fickle and deceitful nature. Back then, he’d cursed fate at the ruins of his engagement, unaware that he’d been taken into fate’s benevolent bosom.
He jotted off a note of thanks for the dinner party to his cousin Caroline. He sent one of his servants to deliver it, along with a robust bouquet of dark pink roses to convey his gratitude. Although he didn’t mention Miss Roring in the letter, he wished he could compliment Caroline what role she herself had played in his current happiness. The memory of the kiss he’d exchanged with Miss Roring was still fresh on his lips. He felt so magnanimous, after he’d donned a fresh suit in which to call on Miss Roring, Logan gave Ian the rest of the night off.
Along the way to Eaton Square, Logan stopped his hired cab at the flower stand on the corner. He agonized between choosing purple lilacs to reveal his first emotions of love or light pink roses, to convey his passion. He finally selected the lilacs, so as not to seem presumptuous. The fresh lilacs were nothing to Miss Roring’s perfection, of course, but perhaps she would welcome a token of his esteem. As the Hansom cab pulled up in front of Mrs. Marsh’s townhouse, Logan asked the driver to wait. He bounded up the steps, rang the doorbell, and straightened his cravat. A few moments later, the housekeeper opened the door, took his card, and showed him into the drawing room. Unable to relax, Logan paced a bit. He felt rather foolish with the lilacs still clutched in his hand, but he wanted to give them to Miss Roring personally.
Jillian’s aunt entered the drawing room with an expression so somber Logan’s smile faded instantly.
“Mrs. Marsh, are you unwell?”
“Perfectly so, Mr. Logan. I regret to inform you that neither Miss Roring nor I will be receiving you today or any time in the future. Have I made myself clear?”
Chapter Nine
Lord Archie
A C
LAMMY
C
HILL
S
PREAD
from the top of Logan’s head to the soles of his feet.
“I’m sorry, but I don’t understand you. What has happened?”
Jillian appeared in the doorway just then. Her color was extremely pale and her eyes red and slightly swollen, as if from weeping. Panic seized Logan’s heart.
“Miss Roring, what is wrong?”
“Aunt Letty, will you leave us for a few moments?”
“Are you sure?”
At Jillian’s nod, Aunt Letty gave Logan one last, withering look and left.
“For Heaven’s sake, Miss Roring, tell me what is troubling you!” Logan exclaimed.
He tried to keep the pleading note from his voice, but he was unsuccessful. He laid the lilacs on the mantle and crossed to Jillian, but she held up her hands to keep him at bay.
“I have been informed that a wager has been placed on who will be the first to win my favor. For you to treat my feelings in such a shabby manner is cruel. I will not be treated like a racehorse, Mr. Logan, and I beg you not to have any further contact with me.”
Logan stared at her, aghast. “Who told you this?”
“That is unimportant. Do you deny it?”
“Yes, I deny it insofar as my involvement! There was some good-natured discussion of a wager, but I refused to be part of it, I assure you. You may ask Mr. Hawkins for confirmation.”
“I would expect him to take your part in this, since he is your friend.”
“He is a gentleman and would not lie for me or anyone else!”
“Just like you didn’t lie to me about the truth of your broken engagement to Miss Watkins?”
“She told you?”
Jillian’s chin lifted. “I also discovered my nickname amongst your acquaintances is Ice Princess.”
Logan was astonished. “It was meant as the highest compliment, I assure you.”
“I’m sorry to snatch your erstwhile victory away, Mr. Logan. I’m sure my conquest would have added greatly to your reputation as a rake.”
Logan picked up his hat.
“I can see there is no convincing you of my innocence in this business. You paint me unfairly, Miss Roring. Before I leave, let me say that my intentions toward you have always been sincere and wholesome.”
But Jillian merely whirled around and fled the drawing room, leaving Logan to find his way out. Numb, he stumbled down the stairs to the sidewalk, narrowly avoiding disaster by gripping the handrail. The Hansom driver jumped from the cab.
“Are you all right, Guv’nor?”
Logan nodded and allowed the man to guide him into the cab.
“Take me to White’s.”
“Straightaway.”
The idea of drinking in the company of whoever had betrayed him suddenly seemed unappealing.
“On second thought, take me to Boodle’s.”
Jillian took her place at the table when she was called to dinner, but the food on her plate remained untouched. Aunt Letty gave her niece a sympathetic glance.
“You must eat a little. You’ll need your strength at the ball tonight.”
“I will be horrible company. Can I not beg off?”
“You do not want to give offense, my dear. It’s the Duke and Duchess of Rochester.”
“I’m a mess, Aunt. My skin is blotchy and my eyes are red. How am I ever to appear presentable?”
“You’ll have a nice hot bath. Afterward, a little powder, a bit of rouge, and some lip pomade will perk up your looks. A burnt matchstick will darken your lashes, too.”
“Aunt Letty!”
Her aunt gave her a mischievous look. “There is not a lady worth her salt who does not resort to a little help now and again. Besides, Jillian, you cannot give the gossips free rein. If knowledge of that silly wager is widespread, your disheartened demeanor will confirm Mr. Logan broke your heart. Is that what you want?”
“No.”
When Jillian’s eyes began to swim with tears again, Aunt Letty patted her hand.
“That’s enough of that. If Her Majesty can bear up under the grief of losing her husband, you can forge through your current distress.”
“But in fact the queen does not bear her loss well. She’s been in mourning these past thirty-eight years.”
“Oh well, you understand my meaning. Now eat something and I’ll have Alice bring you a glass of champagne while you’re in the bath.”
Morose, Logan sat in front of one of the fireplaces in Boodle’s and nursed his gin. The day had begun in a spectacular fashion and had ended in disaster. Miss Roring could not have intimate knowledge of what had transpired in White’s unless someone who’d been there had told her. Only the culprit had twisted the words so they’d taken on a sinister overtone. One of his friends had betrayed him, but why? The biggest mystery, however, was how Miss Roring had known his broken engagement was a deception. The only people who knew the actual events were himself, Sophia…and her lover. As a gentleman, Logan had allowed Sophia to announce publicly she’d jilted him. Most certainly she would not have freely confessed otherwise to anyone, since to do so would mean her absolute downfall.
He’d parted from Miss Roring after midnight last night, so she had to get her information sometime prior to his arrival at five o’clock today. If only he knew what schedule she’d kept before then, perhaps he could discover who had been feeding Miss Roring lies. Neither Mrs. Marsh nor Miss Roring were likely to tell him, but a member of the household staff might be persuaded if the price was high enough. Logan wracked his brain as he tried to remember the name of the maid Miss Roring had mentioned during dinner. Was it Elspeth, or perhaps Eliza? No—it was Alice! If he could speak with her privately, Alice would be able to tell him what he needed to know.