One dance, one intricate interlacing of hands and steps and things unsaid. She couldn't have planned it better. She hoped Jeremy and her father were both watching. She hoped they both felt as powerless as she.
And it worked. She couldn't believe how beautifully it worked. When Raulton finally led her back to her chair, she found Ancilla had gone, effectively voicing her distress and disapproval. Her father was waiting for her, grim as a bear, and the best thing of all was when she finally caught her breath and looked around the room, she saw Jeremy by the door, his expression as black as a thundercloud.
So now the stage was set. She had only to sit back and wait for Jeremy to dance attendance on her, and then pay him back for his presumption.
She dressed accordingly the next day, in simple white muslin trimmed at the bodice and hem with demure pleating, and a matching lace-trimmed cap. Virginal. Innocent. What everyone expected to see.
She made herself comfortable in the library until, as she knew he inevitably would, her father wandered in.
"This season is too fatiguing," he began, dropping into the wing chair opposite the sofa where she sat. "Last night… too crowded, too many undesirables. I don't know what the
Skeffinghams were thinking. That Raulton-there is a man who ought not be received at the docks let alone in polite society. What is the world coming to?"
"Oh, indeed? He seemed quite the thing to me."
"Well, he ain't. And you should have known better than to take his hand willy-nilly like that," Reginald grumbled
"I did no such thing," Regina said indignantly. "I just danced with him. A reel, for heaven's sake. We were barely face-to-face throughout the whole. But"-she lowered her voice insinuatingly-"he did cut quite a fine figure. And his manners were impeccable…"
"Re-gina…" Reginald began, but the butler interrupted.
"Mr. Gavage, my lord."
"Thank God," Reginald muttered, rising from his chair and relieved as a ninepence that he didn't have to pursue the question of Raulton one moment further. "Send him in."
And there he was, framing the doorway, glowering.
"Jeremy, my boy-here's Regina."
Jeremy cast a dark glance at her. "So I see."
Well, Regina thought, that wasn't too promising. She had better reconcile with him right now, or Jeremy would never fall for her plan.
She uncoiled herself from the sofa and went to him, her hands outstretched. "Jeremy, it's been ages too long."
"So it seems," he said in that deep burnished voice of his.
Oh lord, he was tall, taller than he had seemed last night; she didn't remember him being that tall. Or those hands being so warm. Or those eyes so penetrating. Nor had his face been that old. She remembered the youth of that face, before the lines now there had been etched that deep.
He wasn't going to help her either.
"Do sit down. Father, go see to something to eat. Or drink. Would you care for…?" She couldn't even think what this early in the morning.
"Tea and toast will do. I assume you've eaten."
"I could eat some more," Regina said staunchly. She wasn't some faint-away female. And anyway, food in hand helped. She didn't know how, she just knew it would. "I'll take the same. Father!" She had to get him out of the room. "Do see to it."
"I'll ring"-Reginald looked from Jeremy to Regina. Lord, she looked so sweet and innocent this morning. And yet she had danced with Raulton the night before and looked at him as it he were a god.
Jeremy eyed him meaningfully, and Reginald changed course. "Of course, my dear, I'll see to it." Anything to get out of the room and leave her with Jeremy. He could trust Jeremy. Thank the fates Jeremy had come and none too soon.
Regina closed the door behind him and whirled around to face Jeremy.
"Oh, Jeremy. Did I not see you last night at the Skeffinghams'? Why didn't you come to me? Oh, no matter, you're here now. You cannot know how grateful I am that you came."
She came toward him and edged him farther into the room. This was the moment; she could not fiddle around with niceties or building the story up any further than what Jeremy had seen with his own eyes. She had to preempt him.
She had to take action now.
"You must help me." She looked up at him, her eyes wide and beseeching, the very essence of femininity and innocence. She hoped.
"Must I?" Jeremy said repressively. "Are we not to have a moment's civil conversation before you beg a favor of me? After all this time?"
Odious, odious man! Anyone else would have been at her feet, promising her the moon if she wanted it. "We could have done so last night," Regina returned tartly, "but you chose not to. In any event, I will not ring a peal over your bad manners-today. This is serious. I need your help, Jeremy, and I haven't a moment to lose. You cannot refuse me."
"Oh no? Appearances are deceiving: here I thought to bask in the company of a childhood friend, and instead I find a spitting hell cat. If I hadn't walked in the door, who might you have dragged off the street to abet you-a sniffing torn?"
Blast it. It was as if she was fifteen again and they were back snipping and sniping at each other. "Jeremy! Be serious. Sit down."
"I have a feeling I will want to be standing." This wasn't going quite the way he had planned either. He waited stoically for the ax to fall.
No choice now. She must dive into it and hope she didn't land half seas over. "There's a man."
He hadn't expected that-that she would immediately confess to her interest in Raulton. It undercut everything.
"Isn't there always?" he said dryly, warily.
The bounder! Of course he would make it as difficult as possible. Which made her all the more determined. And besides, hadn't he had enough time to ask her about Raulton? Any man with guts and gumption would have, immediately. Blast him. He deserved the torture she was about to inflict on him.
"Jeremy, be serious. Here's the thing. I want you to teach me…"
"Teach you…?"
Yes, he was looking a little green around the gills. It was time to toss the bouncer.
"Well," she went on as artlessly as the child he thought she was, "he's an experienced man, much more so than any man of my acquaintance. Well, I mean-except you, of course. But I haven't seen you in years. Not that it matters. He is the man I would marry. So all I want you to do is teach me everything I need to know-everything a worldly woman would know-so I can fix his interest."
"That's all?" Jeremy said in a strangled voice.
She was immensely heartened by his anger, she had gotten to him, as she intended, and she felt a wash of triumph that she had scored on the first gambit.
It was a game, after all, even if he didn't know it yet.
She smiled at him brightly. "That's all."
He was thunderstruck. This was the last thing he expected her to say; but he couldn't let her see that, so he turned away from her to collect his thoughts.
This was Regina, grown-up, God help him, beautiful, spirited Regina, handing herself to him on a silver salver, giving him the reason and wherewithal to carry out Reginald's plan, and she didn't even know it.
What man could resist that offer? A man wouldn't even care that he was not the ultimate object of desire. A man was a man, and a willing woman of good breeding was the stuff of dreams that brought him to point at night.
Ah, but she didn't know what she was asking. And he was bound to go forward with Reginald's best interests in mind.
His own didn't enter into it. He had made it plain to Reginald: he wanted no woman, no entanglements, no more being in love. In short, he was the perfect man for the job. No matter what it was, no matter what it took, he was the one who could remain detached, removed, and indifferent.