Much Ado About Jack Page 5

  “Captain Montgomery, well met.” Pembroke stepped forward to shake his hand. “Still in town, I see.”

  “Indeed. I’ll be here for the next week at least.”

  “So long? I didn’t think you could be away from sea for seven days running.”

  “When there’s a good enough reason.”

  Pembroke was fairly sober for so late in the evening, much to James’s surprise. His friend’s blue eyes met his frankly, with no screen of alcohol between them.

  “You’re not still chasing Angelique.”

  “I’m not certain that she’s actually running away.”

  Pembroke groaned, but the door to Carlton House opened then, and he gave no more dire warnings about the folly of pursuing the wrong woman.

  James had no doubt that it was folly to pursue the right one.

  The guards said nothing, nor did Prinny’s majordomo ask to see his pilfered invitation, as the gentlemen stepped inside. Together they walked into the huge entrance hall, its vast expanse leading to the grand staircase of gilded wood and marble.

  James had never entered the hallowed halls of Carlton House before. He had been away from London for years and had spent little time in the capital since the war had ended. He preferred the open sea to any city, but now, as he strode up the grand staircase at Pembroke’s side, he saw why so many curried the Prince Regent’s favor.

  The opulence that surrounded them was elegant if not understated. The walls were papered with brocade, and the high ceilings stretched above them, held in place by gilded columns. With so much wealth on offer, no doubt those courtiers worked day and night to procure some of the prince’s favor for themselves.

  James checked the knife tucked into the leather sheath in his sleeve as he entered the Golden Drawing Room behind Pembroke. He had never trusted men who lived in too much luxury.

  The elaborate furnishings were covered in deep-red velvet, porphyry vases standing at intervals as tall as a man. The room was large enough to overwhelm any gathering, and that night only a handful of the Prince Regent’s closest acquaintances had been invited to play at cards.

  The prince himself stood in the center of the room, away from the gaming tables. A gaggle of hangers-on surrounded him, each trying to catch his eye, the ladies with their beauty, the men with their wit. James could not care less about any of it, for he sought only one woman. He found her almost at once, standing at the Prince Regent’s elbow.

  “Come, man, I’ll introduce you to His Highness. Unless you’ve met already.”

  “Once, after the Trafalgar action, a few of us were honored in Nelson’s place,” James answered.

  “He might remember you then. Stick close, and let us roll the dice.”

  Prinny’s eye fell on James Montgomery. The fop standing beside the prince, holding forth about the allure of his newest racehorse, fell silent as Pembroke and James approached. Both men bowed before the Prince Regent, James a bit lower, as he was not titled. He could feel the heat of Angelique’s gaze on him.

  Though he greeted the most powerful man in the realm, James had trouble focusing on the prince. All he could think of was how Angelique had tasted and the way her breasts had filled the palms of his hands. He caught the scent of her orchid perfume.

  “Your Royal Highness, may I present Captain James Montgomery, formerly of your Royal Navy.”

  James bowed again, and Prinny raised his quizzing glass to take him in. Everyone knew that the prince had no need of the assistance of a quizzing glass, but that occasionally he enjoyed the affectation.

  “Good evening, Captain. I seem to recall your face. Did you serve with Nelson?”

  “Yes, Your Royal Highness. It is good of you to remember.”

  Prinny nodded, his eyes still assessing him. Though the Prince Regent was well known for his debauchery and his misplaced politics, he was a shrewd man with a clear grasp of the people who surrounded him. James felt himself weighed, judged, and evaluated within the space of a breath. Prinny smiled in the next moment, and there was a trace of genuine warmth behind his light blue eyes.

  “You are welcome here, Captain Jack Montgomery. We are a small party this evening, just a gathering of a few friends. It was good of Pembroke to bring you along. One of the gentlemen could not attend, called away to a closed session of Parliament. So you can stand in for him.”

  James flinched at the mistake the prince made with his name but held back from correcting him. If that was the worst thing he was called all evening, it would be a good night. Better than most.

  “It would be my honor, sir.”

  “Yes, well, Pembroke will see to your comfort.”

  Prinny nodded his dismissal before leading his coterie of sycophants toward the cold supper that had been laid by to tempt the royal palate. James would have to join the Prince, but he had a few moments to speak to Angelique first.

  She stared at him, her blue eyes darkened with displeasure. The tilt of her full mouth still curved in a slight smile. “Captain Montgomery,” she said. “I had no idea you were an intimate of the Prince Regent.”

  “We are so intimate that His Royal Highness has trouble remembering my name.”

  Her lips quirked in what might almost have been the beginning of a laugh, had she not squelched it. “No doubt you are a loyal subject, whatever the prince calls you.”

  “Indeed, my lady. It is my honor to be called the wrong name by one so illustrious.”

  She must have understood his mockery of the sycophants around them, because she did smile then. “I understand he has the same trouble with his mistresses.”

  “Too many to remember?” James asked.

  “I imagine that he is gratified to inspire loyalty wherever he may find it, among his paramours and among the officers of his navy.”

  James laughed out loud at that. Never before had he been put on a par with whores. But by the same token, most men who met him remembered his name. He could not fault her logic, even if her tact was questionable. But then, he had not come to her looking for tact.

  “I am in his navy no longer. I have sold my commission.”

  “Indeed?” One of her sculpted brows rose. “Is that why I found you on my ship?”

  James paused for a moment, surprised that she would bring up her ties to trade among those people. No one else seemed to be listening to them. Pembroke had stepped away to greet a friend, and as the crowd had moved away with the prince, James and Angelique stood alone.

  “I never gave you my name,” he said.

  “No need. I heard Pembroke offer it.”

  “Let it be my gift to you then.”

  “Free of charge?”

  He smiled. “Nothing in this world comes free, lady.”

  She laughed then, and he said, “Captain James Montgomery, at your service.”

  “Are you really?”

  James moved closer to her so that he could take in the heat of her skin along with the smell of her perfume. “In every way.”

  They stood staring at each other in silence.

  She wore dark blue again as she had the night before, and the silk of her gown wrapped itself around her figure, revealing every curve. The low neck of her bodice showed a sapphire gleaming between her breasts on a string of pearls.

  Sapphires flashed at her ears, but no jewel could detract from the light in her eyes. He had sailed the seven seas from the age of twelve, and he had never before seen a woman like her.

  He had better be careful, or he might be dismissed from the royal presence for drooling like an ass.

  The rest of the company moved to sit around Prinny in an informal clump. James offered her his arm, and she took it, barely touching him. He almost could not feel her fingertips where they rested on his sleeve. She walked with him, a picture of serenity, as he led her to the buffet. She took up a plate without looking at hi
m and raised a few pieces of fruit and cheese onto its golden rim.

  He watched her, the swell of her breasts rising beneath the dark silk of her gown. He stood close enough to see the generous curves disappear into the folds of her dress, close enough that the heat of her body radiated against his arm. He leaned even closer as if to take up a strawberry from its bed of cream, though all he wanted was to brush his arm against her breast.

  Angelique anticipated his move and countered smoothly, taking one step back from the table. She did not reprimand him, and she did not walk away. He smiled then, sure he had won, and bit the strawberry off at the stem.

  “Very sweet,” he said. He dropped the remnant of the fruit and leaned over again, coming close to her. This time, she did not retreat.

  The front of his coat brushed against the swell of her breast as he picked up another strawberry. He leaned forward, offering her the bit of fruit, wondering if she would take it into her mouth.

  She looked at him for a long moment before she ran her tongue across her bottom lip. She raised a berry of her own and sucked the cream off it, before eating it all in one bite.

  She chewed and swallowed, and he watched, his own fruit almost forgotten in his hand. Cream began to drip into his palm from his fingertips. He could not take his eyes away from her, and from the sight of her consuming that red berry.

  Her lips were rosy in the soft candlelight, and James suddenly wished the rest of the company to perdition, the Prince Regent and Pembroke included. He must see her alone, or his cock stand would kill him.

  “You think to toy with me, Captain. I warn you, I am no man’s plaything.”

  James could not find his tongue. His glib, smiling talk, the lines he used to smooth his way with every woman he had ever known seemed to dry up on his tongue, unspoken. He simply stared at her, the heat of his lust in his eyes for all to see like some green boy who had never had a woman.

  Angelique did not look away from his naked desire, and for a moment he thought that perhaps she shared it.

  She began to move away from him, but it seemed she could not step away without speaking again. She quoted Shakespeare, of all things, almost as a warning to him, her midnight curls falling around her shoulders from the diamond clasps at the crown of her head. “‘I know you of old,’” she said.

  “Beatrice from Much Ado About Nothing!” Prinny said, as if they were playing a game of charades and he had just won, the triumphant tones of his voice breaking their intimacy. James stood staring at Angelique, his eyes unable to leave the contours of her face. But Angelique had been a courtier for many years, for she smiled easily, shifting her attention to the prince without missing a breath.

  “Indeed, sir, you are right, as always. We must prevail upon Titania to produce the play again. You must use your influence with her as a favor to me.”

  She stepped toward Prinny, no doubt thinking to dazzle him into forgetting James altogether, but the prince had seen them standing close and speaking low. Something in the intimacy of their voices must have alerted him. He smiled on them both, his eyes gleaming, a golden plate still in his hand, half-filled with cold chicken and asparagus.

  The prince’s gaze lingered first on her, then on James, before flickering to the tall, dark man who stood beside him. It seemed the Earl of Ravensbrook was there too, watching. “Do you know Captain Jack of old, Lady Devonshire?” the prince asked.

  Angelique smiled, ignoring everyone but the prince while still seeming to include the company in the indifferent warmth of her smile.

  She must have noticed that the prince had called him by the wrong name, but she did not comment on it. James wondered for a moment if she had bothered to remember his name at all. If he could get her alone for even five minutes, he would make her remember him.

  “I know his type, sir.”

  Prinny laughed, and for a moment James thought that he might let the matter rest. But he did not yet know the royal wit. It was his first time at Carlton House, and James knew with unwavering certainty that it would be his last.

  “The heroic type, you mean, Lady Devonshire?” Prinny glanced once more at Ravensbrook, as if to gage his reaction.

  “No doubt you are right, sir, as always,” Angelique said.

  James thought he saw a flash of malice behind Prinny’s lazy smile. “I have a prediction then, Lady Devonshire, that you and our Captain Jack of Trafalgar fame will one day become better acquainted. More than friends, shall we say. I believe I will open a wager on it. All here may bet, of course, though it is never politic to bet against your prince. Especially since, as you say, I am always right.”

  Angelique did not speak but curtsied to the Prince Regent. Ravensbrook frowned like thunder but remained silent. The rest of the company laughed uproariously, as if they were all privy to a great joke. Only the Prince, Ravensbrook, and Angelique did not smile. James stepped forward as if to protect her, to put himself between her and the laughter of her friends that suddenly sounded like mockery. It was one thing for him to poke and prod her, but he would be damned if he let these popinjays do it.

  “Who would not be enchanted to spend even one moment at this lady’s side?” James asked.

  Angelique raised one eyebrow, as if he had surprised her. He had shocked himself with his sudden poetic turn of phrase. If he had ever read a poem, he had long since forgotten it.

  The Prince Regent laughed, his eyes gleaming with mischief. “Indeed, Captain Jack. Well spoken. In the interests of furthering my bet, I excuse you both from play this evening. I give you access to the Blue Velvet Room where you might…enjoy each other’s company at your leisure. You may take your ease there, and no one will disturb you.”

  James stared at the prince, certain that he had misunderstood him. But this time, it was no joke. No one else laughed.

  He reached for the sword that was not there. He had not worn his dress uniform tonight, but plain brown wool and a silk waistcoat covered by a brown superfine jacket. He was well dressed by Aberdeen standards, though not compared with the men around him. Of course, none of these so-called men had done a day of work in their lives, save for perhaps Ravensbrook and Pembroke.

  Pembroke was at his side then, his hand on his sword arm. James forced himself to relax, to remember that he was not on deck being besieged by the French, but that he had just been insulted by the ruler of the realm. Had the prince been any other man, he would have called him out. As it was, he stood silent and let Pembroke remind him of where he was, and with whom.

  Angelique did not look surprised or horrified to be whored out by the man whose home she had been invited into. She did not look to her friends but nodded to the prince, curtsying again with grace. She set her plate down and moved to James’s side. Pembroke gave way before her, and she took James’s arm.

  “You are gracious as always, sir,” Angelique said. “We will retire to the Blue Velvet Room and revel in your generosity.”

  James bit back a curse, almost shaking her hand off his arm. He looked at her face then and saw how pale she was. Her lips, no longer rosy, were as gray as ash. He was not sure, but he thought he felt her hand tremble where it rested on his arm.

  He wished to God he could strike the prince down where he stood for hurting her like that. His sudden rage, the rage he had learned to tame so that it would not be his death, loomed large now, as it had not in many years. Rage like that got men killed on the open sea. If he had not learned self-control, it would have been he and not his enemies who fed the fish of the deep.

  He placed his hand over hers, fighting the urge to push her behind him, the need to shield her from their sight. Instead, he let her lead him out, like a lamb to the slaughter, like a hound on a leash.

  Ravensbrook caught her eye as they passed him, but did not speak. Something seemed to move between them, some memory of pain, a wound that had just now been reopened.

  James w
anted to stop and call him out, too, just for being her ex-lover, just for knowing her when James did not. He wanted to run him through for throwing her away, as if she were nothing.

  He did not examine the vehemence of that last thought, for Angelique was taking him out of the Golden Drawing Room. They followed a footman into the corridor beyond. James did not take his leave of the prince or even look at Pembroke. It was all he could do to fight back the wall of red that clouded his vision and his judgment.

  Behind them, the party picked up their conversations where they had left off, each vying for the prince’s attention, trying to dazzle him. James looked back in spite of himself and saw that all present had completely lost interest in Angelique and in him, moving on to more profitable waters. Only Ravensbrook stared after them, his dark eyes unreadable.

  Ten

  “Ravensbrook wants you back,” James Montgomery said, following her into the Blue Velvet Room.

  Angelique did not answer him, but moved past the footmen on either side of the doorway. A fire was lit in the large hearth, and Angelique stepped close to it, as if it might warm her heart. She was shaking and nauseous. It had been a long time, almost a decade in fact, since the prince had attacked her. She had forgotten how vulnerable it made her.

  She knew every time that she went out in Society that she chose to swim with sharks. Though she had received shots across the bow from more than a few women during her time in the ton, it had been years since Prinny had turned his venom on her.

  She surveyed the room, taking in the wine punch set on a side table with fruit and cheese. She caught the eye of the footmen standing by, waiting for her command. She gave one nod, and they both bowed before withdrawing from her presence, closing the door behind them.

  When asked, they would report that all was well. As he decreed, Angelique was ensconced in a hideaway with the man the prince thought she should take as her next lover. No doubt Prinny had already heard that she had disappeared with Montgomery into the Duchess of Claremore’s garden the night before.