Peregrine was grateful the captain’s former friend, Saint George Tucker, was safely in the Colonies. “Saint” gave no quarter when it came to charming the ladies, which might have been why the captain and Saint George parted ways. Higgs wasn’t sure.
But all those in attendance hoped to meet and suitably impress the three women Captain Scott had“snatched from the jaws of death.” Word of their beauty had been stoked by the retelling of their harrowing experience in the deep. Now it seemed half the unattached men on Devil Isle fancied themselves taken with one—or all three!—of the newest additions to their pink-sand shores.
In the few minutes it took Higgs to see to the horses, the ladies’ dance cards were completely filled. He couldn’t have bought a reel with a single one of them, even if he’d had a chest full of doubloons to offer as payment.
So he helped himself to a cup of grog and moped by the open double doors. All he could do was watch as Miss Munroe tossed her golden curls, flirting and laughing with her dance partners. Each one of them seemed to believe that smile was especially for him.
Blast! There went gravel-voiced Tatem sashaying by with Miss Munroe beaming on his arm.
The captain came and stood beside him in silence for a while. Lord Nick watched the festivities with such a grim face, folk might think he was presiding over a hanging instead of the merriest ball the islands had ever seen.
“Belay that lubberly grog, Higgs.” The captain pulled a silver flask from his vest pocket and handed it to Peregrine. “This night’s work calls for sterner stuff.”
Higgs noticed Captain Scott’s gaze rarely left Miss Upshall as she performed the intricate steps of a minuet. She was paired with Archibald Snickering, the governor’s pasty-faced secretary. Miss Upshall smiled politely at her partner, but turned her head to the side when the dance called for a stylized kiss on the lips.
Miss Munroe did not turn hers.
Peregrine tipped the flask and let the whisky scald his throat in several eye-watering gulps.
“Y-you were right, sir,” he admitted. “A house party would have been the w-wiser course.”
“That ship’s already sailed, Higgs.” The captain clapped a sympathetic hand on Peregrine’s shoulder. “Give it no more thought.”
But it was hard not to wish back the moment when he’d offered to arrange this ball. He’d thought to win Miss Munroe’s favor by it, but instead the woman who tormented his dreams was flaunting her charms before every man in the place except him.
He took another pull on the flask.
“Easy, lad. Check your bearings.” The captain relieved Higgs of the spirits. “You’ve a long night before you.”
The captain nodded at several other guests. “It seems I’m expected to act as if I’m the host of this debacle, so I’ll leave you now.” He started to push his way into the crush of people, then turned back. “Pace yourself, Mr. Higgs. And don’t do anything foolish.”
Too late.
Higgs was already doing something foolish. He couldn’t seem to keep his eye from following Miss Munroe around the dance floor.
She never glanced his way once.
Higgs had stood night watch in the pouring rain with more cheer.
After the fiddler played three reels in a row, suddenly Peregrine found Miss Smythe standing before him, red-faced and fanning herself.
“Mr. Higgs.” She bobbed a quick curtsey. “I’m so glad I found you.”
He leaned toward her in order to hear her soft voice over the din of so many people, all talking and laughing at once. She wrinkled her nose as her gaze darted about the room, and he realized that beneath the heavyperfume worn by almost everyone, not all the bodies pressed into the hall were terribly clean. Being a seaman had dulled his sensibilities somewhat in that department, but he did catch a fresh whiff of vanilla wafting from the lady before him.
Along with clean feminine skin.
“…and so I’m afraid with all this
But all those in attendance hoped to meet and suitably impress the three women Captain Scott had“snatched from the jaws of death.” Word of their beauty had been stoked by the retelling of their harrowing experience in the deep. Now it seemed half the unattached men on Devil Isle fancied themselves taken with one—or all three!—of the newest additions to their pink-sand shores.
In the few minutes it took Higgs to see to the horses, the ladies’ dance cards were completely filled. He couldn’t have bought a reel with a single one of them, even if he’d had a chest full of doubloons to offer as payment.
So he helped himself to a cup of grog and moped by the open double doors. All he could do was watch as Miss Munroe tossed her golden curls, flirting and laughing with her dance partners. Each one of them seemed to believe that smile was especially for him.
Blast! There went gravel-voiced Tatem sashaying by with Miss Munroe beaming on his arm.
The captain came and stood beside him in silence for a while. Lord Nick watched the festivities with such a grim face, folk might think he was presiding over a hanging instead of the merriest ball the islands had ever seen.
“Belay that lubberly grog, Higgs.” The captain pulled a silver flask from his vest pocket and handed it to Peregrine. “This night’s work calls for sterner stuff.”
Higgs noticed Captain Scott’s gaze rarely left Miss Upshall as she performed the intricate steps of a minuet. She was paired with Archibald Snickering, the governor’s pasty-faced secretary. Miss Upshall smiled politely at her partner, but turned her head to the side when the dance called for a stylized kiss on the lips.
Miss Munroe did not turn hers.
Peregrine tipped the flask and let the whisky scald his throat in several eye-watering gulps.
“Y-you were right, sir,” he admitted. “A house party would have been the w-wiser course.”
“That ship’s already sailed, Higgs.” The captain clapped a sympathetic hand on Peregrine’s shoulder. “Give it no more thought.”
But it was hard not to wish back the moment when he’d offered to arrange this ball. He’d thought to win Miss Munroe’s favor by it, but instead the woman who tormented his dreams was flaunting her charms before every man in the place except him.
He took another pull on the flask.
“Easy, lad. Check your bearings.” The captain relieved Higgs of the spirits. “You’ve a long night before you.”
The captain nodded at several other guests. “It seems I’m expected to act as if I’m the host of this debacle, so I’ll leave you now.” He started to push his way into the crush of people, then turned back. “Pace yourself, Mr. Higgs. And don’t do anything foolish.”
Too late.
Higgs was already doing something foolish. He couldn’t seem to keep his eye from following Miss Munroe around the dance floor.
She never glanced his way once.
Higgs had stood night watch in the pouring rain with more cheer.
After the fiddler played three reels in a row, suddenly Peregrine found Miss Smythe standing before him, red-faced and fanning herself.
“Mr. Higgs.” She bobbed a quick curtsey. “I’m so glad I found you.”
He leaned toward her in order to hear her soft voice over the din of so many people, all talking and laughing at once. She wrinkled her nose as her gaze darted about the room, and he realized that beneath the heavyperfume worn by almost everyone, not all the bodies pressed into the hall were terribly clean. Being a seaman had dulled his sensibilities somewhat in that department, but he did catch a fresh whiff of vanilla wafting from the lady before him.
Along with clean feminine skin.
“…and so I’m afraid with all this
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