Page 48 of A Siren for the Duke

“You look absolutely stunning,” he said. There was no hint of mischief or anything in his eyes—it was a genuine compliment.

“Oh. Thank you,” she said, slightly blushing. “I did not bring much with me, but Mrs. Sherwood was kind enough to lend me a gown.”

“They are good people. Mr. Sherwood seems to be a bit of a politician, but I suppose that is the way of things with ambassadors.”

“I would love to learn how he and Mrs. Sherwood met. She is such an interesting woman. And I’ve heard that Mrs. Florence is an interesting woman, too,” Jemima added to gauge Lionel’s level of interest.

Lionel stole a glance from Mrs. Florence back to Jemima.

“My dear Jemima, are you jealous?”

Jemima stuck her nose in the air.

“Not jealous. Simply... concerned. I should not like you to be caught up in the company of unsavory characters.”

“And you think yourself a savory character?” he teased.

Jemima narrowed her eyes into sultry slits and fixed her gaze upon him.

“I am a sweet character. Don’t you forget that.”

“How could I ever?”

“You did for two years,” she reminded him. She didn’t mean for her words to come out so bitter and regretted them as soon as they left her mouth.

“Jemima... I am deeply sorry. I can show you the letters my brother kept if that will assuage your mind.”

She shook her head, blinking back tears.

“No. I trust you. I’m sorry. I did not mean for that to sound as awful as it did.”

“It’s alright. I can see why you might still harbor some anger. I did, too, but... now that I know the truth, I…” his voice faltered, and Jemima saw him gulp, “I realize I was foolish.”

“We didn’t know the truth, it was not our fault. And it seemed the universe was determined to keep us apart.”

“But now we are together. The music is lovely, and our environment is beautiful. Perhaps you might forgive me with a dance?”

Jemima felt herself beam as she took Lionel’s hand. They were about to take to the floor together, but a loud and rather obnoxious male voice sounded behind them.

“If that isn’t Captain Lionel Hunt, I say, I’ll eat my foot!”

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

A nasty chill ran down Lionel’s spine at hearing that voice. As he and Jemima turned around, he was dismayed to see Gervase Dartmouth behind him, wearing a sly grin, like a feral cat.

“Mr. Dartmouth,” he said, bowing stiffly. Jemima seemed to pick up on his sudden gruff manner and looked uneasily between the two men.

“Well, well, well. What brings the Royal Navy’s finest to Port Royal?” Dartmouth asked.

“Trade business,” Lionel said flatly. He hated talking with this man and did not wish to give away too much.

At that moment, Mr. Sherwood appeared next to Mr. Dartmouth.

“Mr. Dartmouth! A pleasure indeed to see you at our humble gathering,” the ambassador said, smiling at Dartmouth but shooting Lionel a knowing look. Lionel acknowledged the look with a raised eyebrow for a brief second. Mr. Dartmouth did not seem to notice.

“If this is your idea of humble, then I must know what your idea of opulence is!” Mr. Dartmouth said with a laugh.

“Please make yourself comfortable; I wish for all citizens and visitors alike to think of Port Royal as their home and home away from home,” Mr. Sherwood said gracefully before bowing once again and walking away, disappearing into the crowd.