Page 16 of A Lord in Want of a Wife (Daring Debutantes #2)

T he last months on board were torture. Cedric spent every moment trying to gain Grace’s favour.

Never in his life did he think he would have to work so hard to charm his future countess.

Unfortunately, Grace was from China. She had no understanding of the consequence of his title or that she should feel honoured by his attention.

Instead, she made him work for every ounce of attention she gave to him.

And work he did. Captain Banakos put her in charge of his education.

He’d made the mistake of saying how he wanted to become a competent sailor.

He meant that he’d like to stand next to the captain and listen to his commands, learning from him.

Instead, the man gave him to Grace who made him perform every filthy, difficult task on board.

It was humiliating, mostly because he was rubbish at everything. But he learned. And he didn’t complain. And eventually, he gained everyone else’s respect, if not Grace’s.

Nevertheless, that was a new and welcome experience for him. He was respected not because of his title but because of the things he knew how to do. And he knew them all. By the end of the month, he knew every rivet, cask and bolt hole on The Integrity . And Grace had begun to smile at him.

Progress.

Or so he told himself because truthfully, after every day spent sweating under Grace’s watchful eye, he crawled back into his cramped bed between the bulkhead and boxes of spices, and he dreamed of Lucy.

He told himself that he’d had many women over his short lifetime, and she was simply the latest infatuation.

Nothing more. And yet, he couldn’t stop dreaming about her kiss.

Or the way she looked when she’d been negotiating for the spices.

And wasn’t that odd? Usually, he’d dwell on the sweet worship in her eyes whenever she looked at him. But no, when he closed his eyes, he saw her come alive as she dickered about prices.

Obviously, the heat and the exertion were affecting his mind. He needed to return to England where he was a respected aristocrat, where his hands ached from writing, not hauling on ropes. And women did not threaten to whip him if he didn’t swab the deck to their satisfaction.

But since England was still in the far distance, he decided to bring a bit of the aristocracy to the boat. He suggested it that evening at the captain’s table.

‘Lord Wenshire, is it your intention that your daughters will have Seasons when we get to London?’

‘Indeed, it is. I look forward to seeing them decked out in the finest English fashion.’

‘Then you should look to France for the designs,’ he drawled. ‘The ton forever follows Paris in that regard. Even with the mad Corsican interrupting things.’

Lord Wenshire had no comment. Given his attire, he was not a man who cared overmuch about clothing.

‘And…’ he said, ‘they will need to learn to dance. Can’t attend a ball without knowing the basics.’

‘Yes, yes,’ the man said. ‘I intend to engage a dancing instructor as soon as we land.’

‘But why wait? I learned my paces in the nursery. I stood partner to each of my sisters as they grew.’ Not that his sisters had had a Season or even attended a London ball, but that was why he was courting Grace. So that he could change all that.

Meanwhile Lord Wenshire appeared to like the idea. ‘That’s an excellent suggestion. I’m too old to prance about now,’ he said, ‘but I can hum a tune for you. If my cough isn’t acting up.’

Cedric grinned. ‘Then I say there is no time like the present. Captain Banakos, will you stand as our fourth for the quadrille?’

The captain was game, as were several of his mates. The only one not thrilled was Grace.

‘Dancing has never been one of my loves,’ she groused. ‘I’d rather be in the crow’s nest watching for—’

‘Of course you would,’ her father interrupted. ‘But there’ll be no need to watch the horizon in London. And you will be required to dance.’

‘Come on, Grace,’ Lucy said, her tone coaxing. ‘It will be fun.’

‘What it will be,’ Grace returned dryly, ‘is a chance for Lord Domac to get even with me for trussing him up like a fat duck when he climbed the rigging.’

His eyes widened in surprise. Had Grace just made a joke? Perhaps she was finally thawing to his suit.

‘I swear there will be no ropes for this,’ he said with his most charming smile. Then he pushed back from the table and held out his hand to her. ‘Miss Richards, would you honour me with this dance?’

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Lucy’s hand twitch. She wanted to be his partner, and indeed, she was the more delightful sister. But she did not have the dowry, and so his smile didn’t falter when Grace slapped her palm down on his in the most unfashionable way.

‘I am not a barrel of whisky to be tied down,’ he chided. ‘Remember, Miss Richards, you will be a London debutante. Pray smile and curtsy before me as if you were pleased with my company.’

She grimaced but did as she was told. Sadly, everyone could see that her heart wasn’t in it. Not so for her sister. When Captain Banakos stood before her and bowed, Lucy accepted his invitation with a dimpled smile. And when she curtsied, her skirt flowed about her ankles in a tantalizing display.

Grace, on the other hand, was wearing sailor’s breeches, and so looked ridiculous pretending her loose shirt and trousers were a ball gown.

Nevertheless, he persevered. And honestly, she danced well. Her natural athleticism meant she mastered the steps quickly, though her memory faltered. She wasn’t interested in learning the intricacies of the dances, only the rote steps and for that, she lacked style.

Her sister, on the other hand, started as a shy dancer.

She bit her lip as she concentrated, which was adorable.

But once she memorised the steps, she began to enjoy herself.

She grinned, her happiness obvious. And when Cedric clasped her hand in the quadrille, she squeezed him in a way that called to mind their many kisses.

She was a woman who held on, and he liked the idea of that.

Grace was too independent, and he was tired of wooing a disinterested woman. But that was the cost of being an adult. He’d tried all the other ways to make coin. Marriage to money was the only path left to him, and so he refocused his thoughts on Grace.

‘Perhaps a waltz,’ he suggested when it was clear Grace was thinking of other things.

Her father frowned. ‘Isn’t that a scandalous dance?’

‘Goodness no,’ he lied. ‘At least not by most of society. The sticklers will always find something to criticise.’ He held his hand out to Grace. ‘It is an easy dance on a three beat.’ He demonstrated the steps. ‘Da, dum, dum, da, dum dum.’ Then he pulled her into his arms.

She went stiff and though neither of them wore gloves, she felt as far removed from him as if she wore thick furs. She was rigid, if not awkward, and when her father took up the tune, Cedric tried to cajole her into a better frame of mind.

‘When you are in London, you will be dancing every night. It is the lifeblood of the ton and every girl’s delight.’

She frowned at him. ‘Every night? But why? I thought my father said I would be with the people who lead the country. Who make decisions about laws and such.’

‘Well, yes. That is what the men do. The women dance. And they talk and make decisions about…well, about what is proper behaviour.’ At least he thought so. He wasn’t clear on what women discussed.

She frowned as she mulled over his words, then she shook her head. ‘It is hard to talk when dancing.’ Then she flashed him a polite smile. ‘But you are kind to teach me. Especially if I must learn it.’

A dismissal if ever he’d heard one. And damn, if that wasn’t the most aristocratic thing she’d ever done. He’d been dismissed in the politest way possible. But at least disinterest was better than disdain, which was where they’d started. So that was progress, right?

He would count this as a win. And so he smiled warmly down at her only to stop as her father began to cough. The man did not sound well and everyone in the room heard it. Grace turned to her father, concern etched in her face. Same for the captain and Lucy, who had been waltzing beside them.

‘No, no,’ Lord Wenshire gasped. ‘Keep dancing. I’ll be fine. In a minute.’ And indeed, his voice grew stronger as he spoke.

Nevertheless, Grace stepped away from Cedric, going to her father to put a gentle hand under his elbow.

‘I’m tired, Father. Perhaps we could talk as I head to my bed.’

A lie if there ever was one, but a polite one nonetheless. Her father smiled warmly at her. ‘Don’t be afraid. I shall live long enough to settle my affairs in London. I won’t die and leave you both stranded.’

Cedric winced. He had no idea if either girl had thought about their future if Lord Wenshire passed unexpectedly.

But Cedric had, and he’d brought up the possibility in private with the man.

He’d done so honestly, to offer his aid in case the unthinkable happened.

Though what he could do to help was as limited as his funds.

Lord Wenshire had not taken it well. He’d dismissed Cedric’s offer with an annoyed wave, but then he’d baldly stated his intentions in front of the girls.

Cedric tensed, watching both women closely.

If they were shaken by the idea of their father’s death, neither showed it.

Grace continued to guide her father to his bed while Lucy promised to search the kitchen stores in hopes of a soothing tea.

As if discussing one’s demise was a natural thing.

Meanwhile, the captain bowed out, claiming he had work to do and the other officers disappeared. That left Cedric alone in the galley while Lucy headed for the kitchen stores.

‘I’ll help you,’ he said because he couldn’t keep himself away from her. He’d been secretly looking forward to waltzing with her even when he knew he shouldn’t.