Sebastian smiled blithely as the earl volleyed a question back at him. He was starting to learn how to rile the man and whether it was due to boredom or spite or both, the prince had decided to prod him every so often.
Shading his eyes to look ahead at the presumably peach or orange boat, Sebastian caught sight of two ladies, one standing precariously on the railing of the boat and–well–flashing, for lack of a better word, a good portion of her legs beneath a gathered up hem. His amusement at the whole situation turned into something more intent and curious, and as they approached, Sebastian could recognize that the lady was Isabella.
“An American marquess, that is odd,” he said quietly to Effingham, but his mind hand moved on from the topic.
The prince made a point of focusing only on Lady Aldwyn’s face as she made introductions, a polite smile was offered to her and then her companion. The woman seemed familiar in a way Sebastian could not place under the circumstances, but perhaps he would find out sooner or later if he did know her. Judging by her accent, she was also a foreigner that came to London for the season. “Ladies,” he greeted them both with a wave.
The boat was hurrying along at a faster pace and it seemed their conversation would cut short unless he coaxed Effingham to walk along the barge. Sebastian took a few steps to stay close enough to continue speaking. His gaze landed on Isabella with a crinkle of concern on his brow. “Could I convince both of you to keep your circus preparations contained to the deck of the ship?”
“Yes, yes – didn’t know there was a-a Halif – oh. Oh, I say.” They were definitely pulling alongside the peach-salmon-pink boat now – looked to gain on the other craft, even – and now those other passengers were in view – and what a view it was.
It had been a while since – well, he supposed there were places aplenty in London to see such things, but it was quite different altogether – to be in the open, under the sunlight and fresh breeze – and to see a lovely set of shapely legs and quite a nice ankle –
He had unconsciously leaned forward on the railing when the – very familiar voice registered. The formal words of introduction were like-like cold water sluicing down his back – he flinched at the realization that he had been-been – well, hrm, ogling. A lady. A lady with a brother with a particularly active right fist. To whom he had only recently made amends.
He ducked into a quick bow automatically, mumbling and flushing red. Circus, the unfamiliar, accented voice said – circus indeed it was turning into –
For the second – third? – time today, he found himself agreeing with the prince; miracles apparently did happen even in these times. “Yes, yes – you should not – these boats, you see, create a wake as they go by – and we are indeed going by now – you may unbalance –”
He eyed the distance between them, did some quick calculations, then – “I-I– I suppose – we are, hrm, available to-to offer ourselves as – well, to catch you, if-if necessary?”
A part of him marveled at the offer – was it too bold? too inappropriate? – but that part had since been quieted by the drink (drinks?) before, lulled into complacency by the glorious, wonderful day.
He smiled back, broadly – adding, “It-it appears you have the advantage of us, then – you know our names, but your companion, Miss Aldwyn, remains a mystery?”
A part of her hoped for a greater response from Sebastian when they met again but he had merely greeted her politely. She had not seen him since he attended the Aldwyn residence with flowers. But this would be your own doing, if he is no longer interested. Her inner voice was intent on reminding her that she had no right to expect more. Like with Byron, she should know better when dealing with matters of the heart. Yet she could not disassociate the man with the thought of their last meeting – his lips burning against her hand, his unwavering gaze from hers as he held her hand.
No, she would not let such discordant thoughts weigh down on the lightheartedness that she had enjoyed with stasia so far. Taking a breath, she settled into an easy smile. “But the Captain Lord has offered so kindly to catch us if we fall, Your Highness.” She replied sweetly to Sebastian. “And the view up here is so much prettier. We cannot all be so tall.” There was no explanation needed there. Both men were more than aware that bella, though by no means was of short stature, she seemed so compared to the two men. “Sometimes we must put in more effort to compensate for our circumstances. And it is so lovely up here.”
Turning her attention to the other man, the Captain Lord seemed to be in a good mood. So much so he smiled brightly at her. Though he still spoke in that choppy manner of his that bella had already grown used to from the man, he seemed calmer than usual. Her initial thought had been to snap at the man, but under the sun and in such marvelous company, she found it difficult to chastise the man publicly – at least during this very moment – for having spoken to her Brother even though she had explicitly stated that she would.
She decided to let go of the matter for the moment, and returned the same level of energy. “Well, my Captain Lord, this beautiful lady with me is Miss Anastasia Volkov. She hails from Russia, but perhaps you may even recognize her. She is quite a renowned touring ballerina. You may have even had the pleasure of seeing her dance, Your Highness.” Turning to glance at Stasia, she gave a questioning glance, “If I recall, you told me that you have performed in Prussia?”
As they spoke, without warning, something in the water changed. Just as the Captain Lord said so. Really, at this point, bella truly believed that this man was an ill-bringer of misfortune. Because just as he foretold (or maybe he created to spite her again), a wake swept past from one of the boats. For a moment, bella considered the risk of having placed herself into a precarious situation that only begged for an accident to occur. But before she could react, the peach boat jolted upwards and then a second time.
Bella found her hand that had been leaning her weight against the spar slip from its position. Though stasia’s hand was placed on her leg, bella felt herself lose her centre of balance before falling forward briefly.
Stasia found her attention drifting from her introductions to stare at the water below. The distance between the boats had shortened greatly, and the deep blue depths looked all the more menacing. She managed to tear her gaze away, looking up to smile. “Yes, Prussia.” This historry between the two countries was chaotic and full of violence, but she’d yet to meet a Prussian man who didn’t fancy the beauty of a Russian woman, no matter how often they tried to steal the Czarship; Perhaps it was. even more of a draw.
The wake caused her legs to falter, and Stasia could only imagine the imminent that would also follow a stutter step before a leap- she found her arms reaching out, hugging tightly around Bella’s waist sandwiching the pole between their two bodies. She was only 5′2″, and her center of gravity faltered with the rocking, causing her to hold on tight, determined to either hold Bella tight to the barge or both of them descend to the deep. Dramatic, yes, but evermore necessary.
“This is decidedly unprofessional,” she murmured under her breath, holding back a giggle. This was at the very least exciting!
“Well don’t just be idle, offer your arm to give her balance!” she called out in instruction. Soon, the barges’ paths would part, and she’d be stuck there for the rest of time until they found safe harbor if the men did not intervene. If Bella could just stand back upright, they’d both be fine.
