The Ice Captain's Daughter (19 page)

Betsy nodded and smiled. “Miss Abernathy.”

Just then, the boy’s father hurried over; it was the same gentleman who’d spoken to her a few minutes earlier.

“There you are, Kevin! I was worried you’d fallen overboard.”

“Miss Abernathy, allow me to introduce you to Papa,” the boy said. “Papa, this is my new friend. We’re all going to America together.”

“Mr. Moorecock, at your service,” he said, bowing. “Thank you for looking after my son.”

The man took Kevin by the hand and they headed off.

“Excuse me, Mr. Moorecock,” Betsy called out. When he turned, she held out his wallet. “I believe you must have dropped this.”

“Ah, thank you. I didn’t realize it was gone. I’m quite grateful to you, Miss Abernathy.”

He paused and a scarlet flush spread up from his collar. “W-Would you care to have dinner with K-Kevin and me tonight?”

She gulped back a sudden surge of emotion. “Mr. Moorecock, I would be delighted.”

No champagne was required to lift Jillian’s mood as she gazed at her reflection in the looking glass. The diamond necklace and matching earbobs she wore set off her ice blue gown beautifully. Her curled locks had been loosely arranged on top of her head. She turned to smile at her maid.

“You’ve outdone yourself, Alice. My hair is perfect. Do you know if my father and aunt are ready?”

“I believe they are waiting in the drawing room, miss.”

“Could you bring my short Victorine down with you? I don’t think I need a wrap, but I suppose I’d better take one anyway.”

“Yes, miss.”

Jillian gathered up her elbow-length gloves and floated down the stairs on a cloud of ebullience. In the drawing room, Aunt Letty was perched on a sofa, looking splendid in a black and white satin ball gown. Lars Roring stood next to the fireplace, wearing a black cutaway and white vest tailored to his athletic physique. The blond hair brushed back from his handsome face was only slightly touched by gray. His bright blue eyes, now etched by faint lines, twinkled when his daughter entered the room.

“With you and Letty on my arm, I shall be the most envied man at the ball tonight,” he said in lightly accented English.

Jillian hugged him. “I’m so pleased you’re escorting us. I was a bit worried you wouldn’t be here on time.”

Aunt Letty gave Lars a sidelong glance. “I know a few ladies who will be interested to know you are retiring from the sea.”

The captain’s deep masculine laugh filled the drawing room. “I’ve only been in London a day and already with the matchmaking, Letty?”

“Why not?” Jillian asked. “You are still young, Papa. Besides, you’ll have plenty of opportunities to circulate in London society while you supervise construction of the new ice factory.”

Smiling, Roring picked up his top hat and cape and gestured toward the door.

“After you, ladies.”

Sophia and her mother strolled around Lady Adams’s ballroom, both to admire the floral decorations and to display Sophia’s violet gown to the gentlemen assembled there. The skirt had three flounces and emphasized her tiny waist. Her hair had been dressed with several small satin flowers the same color as her dress.

“You’ve never looked better, Sophia,” her mother murmured. “Just be sure to hold your shoulders back.”

“Yes, Mama.”

Suddenly there was an excited murmur at the ballroom entrance.

“I wonder who has arrived?” Sophia asked.

“Perhaps it is the Duke and Duchess of Rochester,” Mrs. Watkins replied.

“I hope not,” Sophia said. “They have the unfortunate tendency to bring Archie with them.” She craned her neck. “Could it be Prince Albert Edward himself?”

Mrs. Watkins inhaled sharply. Sophia followed her gaze. Standing next to Jillian and Mrs. Marsh was the most gorgeous older man she’d ever seen. His startlingly blond hair reflected the light and his high, sculpted cheekbones begged to be touched.

“Who is
that
, Mum?” she exclaimed.

Mrs. Watkins sighed and fanned herself with a beautiful lace fan. “The one who got away, dear.”

Jillian giggled inwardly at all the melting glances her father was receiving. Even Lady Adams had simpered like a schoolgirl when he’d greeted her in the receiving line. Mr. Loach came over to shake his hand and to introduce the Ice Captain to his wife. Although it had been nearly twenty years since Lars Roring had been seen in society, his friends had not forgotten him. As the ladies and gentlemen of London society surrounded her father, Jillian discretely stepped back.

“Good evening, Miss Roring.”

She looked up into a pair of Gypsy eyes, and her pulse began to race.

“Good evening, Mr. Logan.”

“Will you walk with me onto the balcony? It has a lovely view of the garden.”

“I should dearly love to see the view, despite the fact that it’s completely dark outside.”

Logan escorted her through the double doors leading to a large balcony, where a floral garland scented the air with heady fragrance. At the railing, Logan stood behind Jillian and slipped his arms around her waist. She closed her eyes and leaned back against him.

“Miss Roring, I can’t seem to stop bothering you, can I?” he murmured.

As he trailed little kisses down her neck, exquisite sensations surged through her body. She reached up to caress his face with her hand.

“You’re not a bother, Mr. Logan. In fact, I beg you to continue.”

“To do so would compromise my honor, unless…well, unless we were married. I love you, Jillian. Say you’ll have me.”

At that, she turned around. Logan gazed at her with a soft and vulnerable expression that turned her insides to molten gold.

“I believe I will have you, Mackenzie.”

As they kissed, she surrendered her heart.

Epilogue

Two Years Later

J
ILLIAN
A
ND
L
OGAN
S
TOOD
at the entrance of the nursery, watching as Mrs. Lyman rocked the cradle holding their newborn daughter. The adoring expression on the older woman’s face lent it an unaccustomed sweetness.

“I still can’t believe we have our own little ice princess,” Logan whispered.

The housekeeper gave him a scorching glare and made a shushing noise. Giggling, Jillian pulled her husband away from the door. They walked down the stairs together, hand in hand.

“Hawkins and Katie are coming for dinner tonight. It’s just a guess, but I suspect they have some news to share,” she said.

“Such as?”

“Katie’s been growing plump.”

He chortled. “A baby?”

“We’ll know soon enough. Try to act surprised.”

Not fifteen minutes later, Jillian’s uncle came to call with a package under his arm. Jillian’s eyes lit up. “A present for me?”

“I have no idea,” Sir William replied. “It arrived yesterday from America, but there is no return address.”

“From America? How very strange,” she said.

“Why don’t you open it, Jillian? Sir William, would you fancy a game of billiards?” Logan asked.

“Certainly, my boy, but don’t you ever get tired of losing?”

The two men headed off into the game room while Jillian brought her package into the library. Underneath the paper wrapping was a cardboard box containing her gold earbobs and jeweled hatpin. There was also a note, written in large, rounded script. Bewildered, she brought the note over to the window to read.

Dear Miss Roring,

This here is Betsy and I am writing from my new home in America. I started my life over here. I’m married now, to a decent man who does not drink or hit me. He has a wonderful little boy I love like he was my own. I also learned how to read and write and act like a lady.

I have to unburden myself by begging your forgiveness. What George, Sam and I did was wrong, but I can’t take it back. I am returning your earbobs and hatpin, hoping you will understand how sorry I am.

Yours ever,

Betsy

The gold earbobs sparkled in the light streaming through the window. Jillian examined the hatpin, remembering how it had made such an effective weapon when she had needed it. Now she would be able to pass it on to her own daughter, with an amusing story.

She left the wrappings where they were and hastened into the game room with Betsy’s letter and recovered treasures.

“Look! Betsy returned these things to me, after all this time.”

She interrupted Logan as he was trying to sink a shot. The cue hit the ball off center and the shot went awry. Jillian winced. “Sorry. That was my fault.”

“Don’t give him an excuse,” Sir William said.

“I’m glad you got your things back,” Logan said. “I know that hatpin had sentimental value.”

“Yes, but it also means Betsy has decided to be a good person. I’m glad to know people can change.”

As Sir William bent over the pool table, Logan took Jillian in his arms.

“I’m glad to know some things will never change.”

They exchanged a long, romantic kiss.

About the Author

In her former lives, S.G. Rogers was a lawyer and an actress, but she’s now grown up and settled down as an author. She’s lived in some of the most beautiful places in America, including La Jolla, California, Asheville, North Carolina, and currently Savannah, Georgia. She resides with her son, husband, and two hairless cats. When she’s not writing, she enjoys practicing martial arts.

Blog:
http://childofyden.wordpress.com

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Other titles by S.G. Rogers:

The Last Great Wizard of Yden

Children of Yden

Minna & The Valentine

Clash of Wills

The Magical Misperception of Meridian

Cypher

Tournament of Chance

The Druid/The Accidental Immortal
(Asgard Adventure series)