Jessica stopped trying to hoist up the edge of her bodice to cover what seemed to her an indecent expanse of bare flesh. “Listen!” she said.
They listened.
“I don’t hear anything,” said Sister Dolores.
“That’s just it,” said Jessica. “Where are the boys? What are they up to? That’s what I’d like to know.”
“It’s long past their bedtime,” said Sister Elvira soothingly. “They’re not up to anything. They’re sleeping like little angels, that’s all.” She looked a question at Sister Brigid.
The novice nodded. “They were sound asleep last time I looked in on them.”
Jessica was not convinced. The horrid little monsters had lost no opportunity these last two weeks to mock her at every turn. They were up to something; she just knew it.
The sound of the door knocker sent her thoughts scattering and she sucked in a breath.
Sister Dolores smiled complacently. “That will be Lord
Dundas,” she said. “How very kind he is to offer to take our Jessica to the ball in his own carriage.”
They heard the sound of Joseph’s footsteps crossing the hall and a moment later the low murmur of masculine voices.
Jessica jumped when Sister Elvira put her hands on her shoulders. The little nun looked deep into her eyes. “Jessica,” she said, “I want you to forget all the rules you’ve learned in the last little while. Don’t give them another thought, and I mean that sincerely. Just be yourself. Do you understand?”
She didn’t, but she nodded anyway.
“But,” quipped Sister Dolores, “don’t forget the most important rule.”
“To raise money for Hawkshill,” said Jessica.
There was a moment of complete silence, then the room erupted in a gale of feminine laughter.
“To enjoy yourself!” declared Sister Dolores. “This is a ball, for heaven’s sake. Don’t forget to enjoy yourself.”
Jessica was swept out of the room on another gale of laughter, but as she began to descend the stairs, her laughter died away. Lucas was waiting for her at the foot of the stairs, looking as handsome as she had ever seen him. His magnificently tailored dark blue jacket hugged his broad shoulders. His pale blue waistcoat, heavily embroidered with white fleurs-de-lis was, to her, the height of sophistication. He looked lean and fit.
He was in conversation with Joseph and had yet to notice her. Joseph saw her first, and his jaw dropped. Lucas turned to see what Joseph was staring at and his words trailed into silence.
His gaze roamed over every curve and contour on her body and lingered on the hollow between her breasts. Then his eyes jerked up to meet hers. It took a moment before Jessica realized that the gleam in his eyes was one of profound masculine appreciation. She let out a soft sigh. Everything was going to be all right.
She curtsied; he bowed; and as the nuns began to speak, she slipped by him to allow Joseph to drape her dark satin cloak around her shoulders.
“Well, Joseph,” she said softly, “have you no words of wisdom to impart before I leave for the ball?”
“Aye,” he said thoughtfully.
“What are they?”
He showed her his fist. “Just remember to keep your guard up.”
He gave her one of his toothless grins and she turned away with a smile. Then they were outside, with Lucas leading the way to his carriage and the nuns following in their wake. It was twilight, and Jessica was sure she heard a nightingale singing high overhead in one of the mature oaks. Her panic had subsided. Her spirits were soaring. It was a night made for—
Then she heard it. The creak of one of the upstairs sash windows as someone opened it. She’d just known she wouldn’t get away without one of those little monsters trying to take her down a peg or two. And in front of Lucas, too! And his mother and ward in the carriage, listening to every word! How could they do this to her?
“Sister Martha? Sister Martha?” Pip’s voice.
With a tooth-grinding smile, Jessica turned to look up at Pip’s dormitory and was taken aback to see boys at every window, grinning down at her.
“Three cheers for Sister Martha,” yelled Pip at the top of his lungs, and all the boys chanted, “Huzzah! Huzzah! Huzzah!”
“I agree,” murmured Lucas in her ear.
“Angels,” she said, “they’re absolute angels,” and blushing profusely, she entered the carriage.
On the drive to Haig House, her nerves gradually settled. There was so much to see and as Lucas pointed out places of interest, she forgot about herself. There was a small awkwardness with Ellie, who was pouting because
this was her first ball and she wasn’t allowed to dance at it, but other than that the time passed pleasantly.
When they crossed the river onto the old Priory Road, they fell into line in a procession of carriages that were all bound for the ball.
“There’s Haig House,” said Lucas at one point and Jessica craned her neck to get a view of it from the carriage window.
It was set on top of a bluff overlooking the river, and its lights blazed like a beacon in a sea of twilight.
Jessica’s misgivings rushed back and she swallowed nervously. Lucas leaned over and covered her hand. “I predict,” he said, “that you’ll be the belle of the ball.”
She might not be the belle of the ball, but by the time the first interval rolled round, Jessica was feeling quite giddy with her success. She wasn’t exactly besieged with partners, but there were more than enough to go around, and she was content to sit this one out, a rather boisterous country dance.
Seated on one side of her was Lucas’s mother, and on the other side was Anne Rankin. These were her mentors and constant companions in the last two weeks. Tonight, they were her chaperones. They were kind, and generous, and Jessica liked them tremendously, but they could also be tyrants—especially Anne. It was thanks to Anne’s bullying that she knew how to dance tonight at Bella’s ball.
Anne leaned toward her. She was a sandy-haired, freckle-faced lady, around the age of Lucas’s mother. “Did you know, Jessica, that the roses are named for Bella?”
Jessica looked around the Great Hall. White satin panels were draped from ceiling to floor, and the banks of crimson roses made a dramatic contrast. The footmen were in livery to match—white powdered wigs, crimson coats and white satin breeches.
Anne went on. “They are a new strain that Rupert developed himself.”
Jessica knew that Anne was putting her through her paces, testing her facility in small talk. “What a lovely gesture,” Jessica said. There was a silence. Obviously something more was required of her. Anything she had to say about Bella would only shock her two patronesses. That left Rupert. “But,” she went on, searching for inspiration, “I’m not surprised. Bella is very fortunate to have such a devoted husband.”
Both her companions beamed at her, then returned to what they really wanted to talk about, which was the pregnancy of Anne’s elder daughter. So much for small talk. But Jessica didn’t mind. Small talk was reserved for acquaintances and strangers. Friends gossiped or could ignore each other and nobody cared.
This last thought sent her glance to the gallery where Lucas had spent much of his time this evening. He wasn’t there. If he was on the dance floor, she would eat Bella’s cloyingly sweet-smelling roses. He’d danced only one dance tonight, the opening waltz, and that was with Bella.
Not that she expected him to fawn over her. Lucas’s mother had told her that a gentleman did not dance with the same lady more than twice in one evening. Surely, he would want to dance at least once with her? Perhaps he hadn’t noticed that the gown she was wearing was no hand-me-down but the creation of a London modiste and subsequently embroidered by the nuns in tiny white vines along the hem?
The sisters had been in such a twitter as they’d dressed her for the ball. She knew they would be waiting up for her when she got home, wanting to know what his lordship had said to her, word for word. They were such romantics, Sisters Elvira and Dolores. They were confusing Lucas with Prince Charming. Hah! If they ever discovered that he’d kissed Bella, they would be aghast. Just
as surely as they would be ecstatic if they ever discovered that Lucas had kissed
her
.
“Do your lips always move when you’re lost in thought?”
At the sound of Lucas’s faintly mocking taunt, her head jerked up. She hadn’t heard or seen his approach. She’d been remembering how he had kissed her. Even now, her heart was still thundering and her throat was dry. She knew she was blushing.
Lucas’s brows climbed. “Perhaps you were praying,” he said, and his eyes glinted wickedly. “Then pray no more, fair lady.” He made an elegant bow. “Here I am; Lucas Wilde, at your service.”
She suddenly realized that he was flirting with her, and that she was expected to flirt back.
Anne Rankin coughed; Lucas’s mother surreptitiously poked her in the ribs. She had to say something. She rose and made a curtsy that King George could not have faulted and she said the first thing that came into her head. “They say that God answers prayer in mysterious ways. And now I believe it.”
There was a moment of complete silence, then Lucas threw back his head and laughed. Anne Rankin tittered. Mrs. Wilde smiled.
“Well done, Jessica,” said Mrs. Wilde. “You’ve learned your lessons well.”
Lucas spoke to his mother. “With your permission, ma’am, I thought I’d take Jessica out on the terrace for a breath of fresh air.”
“Jessica?” asked Mrs. Wilde.
“Thank you, my lord,” said Jessica, still glowing from the knowledge that she’d said something witty. “There is nothing I would enjoy more.”
As Lucas led Jessica away, Anne sat down in Jessica’s chair. “Now tell me again there’s not a romance brewing,” she said mischievously.
Rosemary was watching the couple’s progress through the crowd. “I don’t know, Anne, I really don’t know.”
“You don’t know!” exclaimed Anne in some astonishment. “What have you and I been doing these last two weeks, and the sisters too, if it’s not to prepare Jessica to take her place as Lucas’s wife?”
Rosemary turned to Anne with a smile. “I’m not saying that Lucas’s affections are not engaged. It’s Jessica I worry about. I’m not sure that she loves my son. She’s very reserved about showing her feelings.”
“Well, of course, she is! A girl in her position! She likes him, that’s obvious. And love can come after marriage, as you and I both know.”
“True,” said Rosemary, but this was one topic she was not willing to pursue. Her eye alighted on Ellie, and she went on, “If you are right, Ellie is going to be even more difficult than she’s been these last weeks. She’s been impossibly rude to Jessica.”
Anne looked at Lucas’s ward and sighed. She was in a group of young people, but her eyes were trained on Lucas and Jessica. She was a pretty girl but the expression on her face was not pleasant. Anne said, “She’s infatuated with him, I suppose?”
“I didn’t realize how severely until Lucas began to take an interest in Jessica. Now Ellie’s sunny disposition has flown out the window. She’s turned into a sullen, moody girl, and I don’t know how to manage her.”
Anne patted her friend’s arm. “She’s very young, Rosie. She’ll get over him.”
“The sooner the better, as far as I’m concerned.”
Out on the terrace, Lucas was propped against the stone balustrade, enjoying the sight of Jessica. She looked ethereal in her floating gauzes with her hair piled in tiny curls on the crown of her head. He itched to remove the pins in her hair and run his fingers through those golden tresses. He wanted to do a lot more than that.
She was looking at the marquee that had been set up on the lawns where they would soon sit down to supper, then she turned her head and studied the many illuminated paths that led through the shrubbery, and the couples who, like themselves, had come out for a breath of fresh air.
“What is it, Jess?” he asked softly. “Why do you look like that?”
“How do I look?” she asked lightly.
“I don’t know exactly how to describe it, but I’ve seen that look on your face many times. It’s wistful and searching. Sometimes, it’s quite desperate.”
She tried to laugh, but the sound that came out of her mouth was mirthless. “I’m curious about Haig House. I’m curious about everything, and everyone. Isn’t that natural for a girl who has lost her memory?”
“You’re looking for something familiar, is that it, Jess? Something you recognize? Something to shake your memories loose? A familiar face, perhaps? Or a place? Or an experience of déjà vu?”
His perceptiveness startled her. That was exactly what she’d been looking for. It was always the same when she met new people, entered a new house, or saw new vistas. She was desperate to find the thread that would lead her out of this terrible labyrinth of unknowing. But that was only part of it. She was searching for the face that belonged to her Voice.
Her next thought jarred. If anyone but Lucas had said those words, her suspicions would have been instantly aroused. It seemed as though he could read her mind.
She gave herself a mental shake. Her Voice would not give himself away so blatantly. He would take care to say nothing that aroused her suspicions. Unless he was testing her. But he wasn’t Lucas. She refused to believe he was Lucas.
“What have I said, Jess?”
She put a brake on her thoughts and smiled. “This is a
ball,” she said playfully. “And I refuse to think serious thoughts at a ball.”
He had never seen her look so fragile. The wide gray eyes that were fixed on his were far more eloquent than she knew. The messages he read there made him want to scoop her up in his arms and carry her to a safe place where nothing and no one could ever hurt her again. He wanted to tell her that there would be other memories, happy memories, if she would only let go and let him take care of her.
“You’re right,” he said. “This isn’t a night for serious discussions, not when I am looking at the loveliest lady at the ball.”
Something, his words, the way he was looking at her, made her troubles lose their grip, and she felt suddenly dizzy with happiness.
“I wish the sisters and our boys could be here too,” she said.
“Oh? Why?”
She gave him one of her rare, shy smiles and he could feel the power of it all the way to his loins.