Cloudy with a Chance of Marriage

at least he left me a great fortune.”

Jilly almost winced at the woman’s bluntness. “D-did you have children?”

Lady Courtney sighed. “No. I think it’s why he hated me so. I suppose I can’t bear children.”

“I’m sorry,” said Jilly. “And sorry to say sorry again. I—”

Lady Courtney waved her hand. “It’s quite all right, dear. I didn’t want his children.”

Jilly was astonished at how closely the woman’s feelings about her husband resembled her own about Hector. She had an impulsive desire to confide the truth to her, but of course, she knew she couldn’t.

She spent a few minutes helping Lady Courtney and was grateful to find enough conversation that she’d had to reveal nothing about herself beyond her name. Lady Courtney seemed to have forgotten her earlier interest in her. The ladies’ retiring room was filled with many of her friends, some of whom asked after her health. Others queried her about her travel plans for the summer months.

Pinning the countess’s hem gave Jilly a few solitary minutes to think. A great yearning coursed through her to have a friend who really knew her, who could accept her—despite her failings.

She’d failed very badly at marriage, hadn’t she?

She’d left.

No matter how much Hector deserved to be deserted, a tiny part of her believed that perhaps it was somehow her fault that he was so … so bad.

It was stupid, really. But it was still there, that little, niggling voice that told her other women might have been able to turn him into a sterling husband.

Where had such a voice come from? She’d grown up perfectly happy, loved and approved of by her parents. She’d liked herself on the whole—and still did—save for a few flaws in her character that she’d never been able to stamp out. Stubbornness was one. So was her quick temper. And a tendency not to think before she acted. Impulsivity had landed her in a number of scrapes.

Such as kissing the captain.

She’d made mistakes. Many of them. One was going along with Lady Tabitha when her instincts had warned her to be wary of the woman. She blinked back more tears. Tonight she mustn’t be broken and dispirited. She must be brave, strong, and somehow in her gray muslin gown … enchanting.

The Prince Regent wouldn’t notice her, otherwise. He might be drunk much of the time, but she’d heard he was a perceptive man who appreciated beauty, wit, and charm.

“Thank you very much,” Lady Courtney said when she was finished.

Jilly looked up from smoothing out the lady’s hem and smiled. “It was my pleasure.”

Lady Courtney held out a hand and helped her up. “I hope I see you about Town in the coming weeks, Miss Jones. You’re an amiable young lady.”

“Thank you.”

And then Lady Courtney turned her back on her and left with another friend.

Jilly took a deep breath and forced herself to leave the haven of the ladies’ retiring room, as well, but alone.

She decided to skip the receiving line and slip into the crowd. Perhaps she’d find Captain Arrow.

But the first person she saw that she knew was Sir Ned, who was at the punch bowl. When he looked up and saw her, he raised a brow in recognition. “Miss Jones, I need you to take this to Lady Hartley. She’s on the wall next to the gallery. I’m off to the card room and it’s out of my way to return in that direction.”

Heavens. Did she exude a servile attitude? Or was she simply too kind for her own good?

She chose to think the latter.

“I’m sorry, Sir Ned,” she said. “I’m off to the game room myself. Shall I see you there?”

The look of shock he gave her was most gratifying. She moved away, unable to resist a small, private grin, and almost ran into Captain Arrow and Miss Hartley.

Miss Hartley clung to his arm and had such a glow of happiness about her, she looked almost pretty.

“Why, Miss Joneth!” Miss Hartley’s lisp became more pronounced when she was terribly excited. “Isn’t this the most beautiful ballroom you’ve ever seen?”

Jilly met Captain Arrow’s eyes. His gleamed with good humor and seeming delight that he’d encountered her.

It warmed her heart to know someone was happy to see her.

She returned her gaze to Miss Hartley. “Indeed, it is a beautiful ballroom. And you look lovely.”

Miss Hartley smiled broadly. “So do”—she hesitated, her eyes widening as if she were seeing Jilly’s gown for the first time—“ah, you. You look very nice.”

Nice. It was hardly a compliment, but she knew Miss Hartley meant well. “Thank you,” she replied with a forced smile.

Would her humiliation never end?

“I must say you’re a breath of fresh air, the two of you,” said Captain Arrow. “I’ve had enough feathers in my face to keep me sneezing for years. At least you two know better than to dress like giant birds.”

Miss Hartley looked at Jilly and giggled. “He’s so silly, isn’t he?”

Jilly had to laugh back. “Yes, he is.”

She was glad he’d taken the attention off her plain gown.

Captain Arrow slanted her a glance. “We’re on our way to introduce Miss Hartley to several of my acquaintances. I told her I don’t dance, but my friends do. Would you care to join us?”

He held out his free arm, and she took it. “Thank you,” she said, “I’d love to.”

All the while they walked through the crowd, she noticed other women looking avidly at her consort. Yes, she was sharing him with Miss Hartley, but he was the handsomest man in the room, without a doubt. And she—

She’d lain with him, and allowed him to kiss her in most inappropriate places, and he’d made her—

She couldn’t say what he’d done. But the memory brought heat to her cheeks.

“Are you all right, Miss Jones?” Captain Arrow whispered in her ear.

She felt a thrill down to her toes. “Perfectly,” she said, feeling very happy. She wouldn’t examine why.

At one point, they brushed by Lady Tabitha and her friends, who were surrounded by young bucks. Even so, Jilly saw Lady Tabitha and Serena pause in their conversation and watch them walk by. Jilly liked to think that perhaps they were miffed that she was with Captain Arrow and not they.

But it doesn’t matter, she told herself. I can’t have him. Who am I to act so proud?

Nevertheless, she couldn’t help but be gratified to know she might have unsettled Lady Tabitha.

A moment later, she and Captain Arrow dropped off Miss Hartley with the captain’s gentleman friends, one of whom escorted her onto the dance floor.

Lumley winked at Jilly. “We must dance. It’s dangerous to linger long with Captain Arrow.”

“Later,” the captain said, conveniently ignoring his friend’s teasing. “We’re in the midst of an interesting discussion.”

And then he led her away—but not before Lumley managed to get her to agree to dance with him in the next hour.

“Of course,” she called back to him over her shoulder.

A moment later, she and the captain were finally alone in the crowd.

“You look stunning tonight.” His tone was intimate.

“Thank you.” She couldn’t help it—she was gratified by his attention. Opening her fan, she looked over it in a teasing manner. “You’re an adept flatterer, sir.”

“I’m not joking.” His golden eyes smoldered into hers. “No matter what you wear, you’re beautiful, even if it’s an ordinary blue-sprigged muslin gown … with a simple fringe of lace at the neckline.”

She could hardly breathe. He was referring to the gown she’d worn that morning, the one he’d partially removed to pleasure her.

“You’re very kind.” And he was, but she felt a strong need to keep their conversation as plain and unromantic as possible.

He seemed to sense her reticence. “I see you’re no longer with Lady Tabitha and her cohorts.”

It was a convenient change of subject.