Banished to Brighton by Sydney Jane Baily

Chapter Three

Around the beauteous lawn, gay buildings rise,

There the Pavilion wooes admiring eyes;

Within, the lovely edifice is grac’d

With every beauty of inventive taste.

– Brighton. A Poem by Mary Lloyd, 1809

THAT NIGHT, JAMES STROLLEDalong the Steyne where fishermen had recently been told to stop drying their nets as it wasn’t the view the Prince Regent wished to see when he looked out of his Pavilion’s eastern windows. Prinny’s other guests were also mostly on foot. James liked how people went around Brighton by foot since it was so compact. Carriages were hardly necessary. He certainly wouldn’t bother until he was climbing in his own to head north to London.

The exterior of the Marine Pavilion’s cream-glazed Hampshire tiles were glowing delicately in the light of lanterns. From a simple classical exterior of stately columns and symmetry, it was well-known the entire structure was going to be made over with a Far East influence to match the exotic stables built seven years earlier in the northwest corner of the property.

The famed architect John Nash had begun the project early in the year, and from what James heard the new Chinese-inspired gallery where the west corridor used to be was already completed and would be the highlight of the evening’s open house. Naturally gainsayers were already declaring the entire plan — using the Orient, India, and Arabia as the main influences — to be a “mad-house” and in extremely poor taste before it was even built.

And then there was the dreadful cost!

James walked past the south wing where Prinny’s private apartments were and along the narrow-edged portico of columns, to enter through the salon’s grand dome. He was greeted by vases of fresh flowers, the heady aroma filling his head and lifting his mood. The cheerful chinoiserie style of decoration that the Prince Regent so admired was in evidence everywhere, and thus, the predominant colors were rich red and glittering gold.

James could only hope the pieces of art he’d brought with him, packed in straw and carefully crated, would tickle Prinny’s fancy enough to soothe his prickly royal temper. Then he would be released from this infernal banishment. Even if Payton thought Brighton was all the crack and more, James wanted to go home.

As usual at any princely party, it was overly crowded and loud. Servants were milling about carrying trays of glasses filled to the brim. James took one, wondering how long it would be before Prinny started telling his infamous off-color jokes. Scanning the room, he noted the usual flatterers who offered an abundance of palaver and flummery to the eldest royal son, awaiting the day he became their king.

And then he saw her. Not Prinny’s former mistress and former wife, Mrs. Fitzherbert. Nor was it his latest mistress, Lady Hertford, who may or may not be bold enough to come to Brighton and risk Mrs. Fitzherbert’s considerable wrath. No, neither of them. It was Miss Talbot who caught his eye.

Her appearance stopped him in his tracks and checked the breath in his lungs. Perfectly coiffed and downright desirable, she was a jewel clad in shimmering ruby satin with cream-colored gloves and a matching feathery thing in her hair. Her breasts were magnificent, and he knew if he got close enough, she would have a distinctly floral scent he recalled from London.

If she wasn’t so dangerously willing to be compromised, he would consider her a welcome diversion until he could return to his London mistress.

Then he recalled she was engaged and smiled to himself. With someone else on the hook for her future security, she was far safer to play with. He couldn’t stop staring.

The feathers in her hair moved as people came and went in the main salon. When a single cream quill disobediently flopped in front of her face, she made an adorable moue with her lips and blew the feather upward. Dutifully, it returned to its place. Meanwhile, his shaft had stiffened at the sight of her puckered mouth, and he found himself walking toward her, helplessly drawn.

“We meet again, Miss Talbot. And you look positively ravishing.”

Her cheeks pinkened under his compliment. She, too, held a glass of wine and raised it toward him. “Thank you, Lord Hargrove. And you have quite the dash-fire about you tonight.”

Sincere or not, her words cheered him. “May I have a dance?”

“Certainly, my lord. Let’s hope the sea air hasn’t put all the instruments out of tune.”

He frowned. “Is that a possibility?”

“Very much so,” she said, looking serious. Then she smiled. “I have no idea, but it sounded plausible, didn’t it?”

His mouth opened before he snapped it closed. “You made that up for amusement?”

“Gracious, don’t look so nettled. I was teasing. I’m sure the musicians and their violins and whatnot will be as good as when they play in the smoky air of London.”

She was an odd fish. “I shall find you for the first dance.” He bowed and took his leave of her.

Strange chit! And then his glance landed on Prinny, glass in hand, a questionable female on either side of him, hanging on his every word. One laughed wholeheartedly at something he said until her low décolletage nearly slipped and delivered a show. If not his famed vulgar jokes, then Prince George was amusing them with stories of leading battalions of soldiers despite having never gone to war. It was a strange game he played, fooling no one but himself.

James would have to make his dutiful presence known, but he might as well wait until the Prince Regent was fully in his cups and in the most joyful of moods.

First, however, he would see who else was at the party. Meandering around the room, over-furnished and crowded as all the prince’s residences, he sipped the claret. Superior wine, to be sure. The food would also be of the highest quality, making these tedious royal parties at least bearable. He nodded to Payton who had just arrived, nodded to two others he knew from Town, and then found himself looking for Miss Talbot again.

She stood by a gilded mirror, and thus, James was able to see her from the front and the back. The reflection of her fine dark curls and long neck and the way her ruby-colored gown dipped low at the back to display her straight back and creamy shoulders aroused him out of all proportion to what he was seeing.

Presently, she chatted with Lord Leilton, who was always on the shadier side of Sunday. At that moment, the man was sending surreptitious glances down the neckline of Miss Talbot’s bodice and grinning like a fiend.

James sighed. Leilton was a dissolute philanderer, careless and stupid. He’d left behind a bevy of illegitimate children, supporting none of them, despite being well able to afford their care and upbringing.

Feeling a little ill seeing the man leaning close to Miss Talbot, with her impeccably clean gloves and silly, romantic feathers, he couldn’t take his gaze away. Did she have any idea what a libertine Leilton was?

Although it was none of his business, James was of half a mind to break up the two, and then the musicians started to play. Dancing would go on at various periods throughout the evening as Prinny liked his parties to drag out and be varied. The prince might even play and sing a song later.

For now, their giddy regent was letting the trained musicians handle the music, and they were excellent, too. Not out of tune as Miss Talbot had hinted. Setting down his glass and moving swiftly, he noticed Leilton lift his dullard head, cocking an ear and realizing an opportunity to hold the beauty before him, if only for a wicked waltz.

James quickened his step. “I believe you promised this dance to me,” he said, offering her his hand. He thought she looked relieved, but he might be imagining it. In any case, while he whirled her around the small dance floor, he would take the opportunity to warn her away from Leilton.

“Starting the evening with a waltz,” Miss Talbot said as they joined hands before he put his other to the small of her back while she settled her hand lightly upon his shoulder. “How exciting!”

James wasn’t a coddled innocent, but he had to admit he agreed with her sentiment. One minute, they were behaving in a civilized manner, talking, drinking, smiling, and the next men and women were holding each other, touching one another and not even exchanging partners. That didn’t happen in the natural course of every day. And it was absolutely fun.

The dance was long, and by the end of it, they were both breathing heavily.

“I would say we have earned a refreshment, unless you’re going directly back onto the dance floor.” A quadrille was starting up next.

Looking at him, with her eyes bright, her cheeks flushed, and her lips even appearing redder, James felt the now-familiar surge of desire. When she licked her lips, he bit back a groan.

“I think I would like some lemonade or barley water if it’s being served,” she said, “and then maybe a walk outside.”

“The closest thing to lemonade might be champagne,” James told her wryly.

They both laughed at the Prince Regent’s excess.

“Then I shall have to suffer with champagne,” she teased, and they located a server.

“How can it be cold?” Miss Talbot wondered.

“Everyone is drinking so swiftly, it hasn’t had time to sit around and warm up,” he mused.

“I realize that, but where is it coming from?”

“Just because we are not in London, as you pointed out earlier, it doesn’t mean we don’t have all the comforts of Town,” James reminded her. “Prinny has a massive ice house on the property. Have you had a tour yet?”

“No, I haven’t. Are you offering?” She batted her eyelashes over her dark brown eyes.

He glanced at her sharply, recalling her trap in London. After they’d got on so well at Apsley House, he’d sought her out at the following ball on Grosvenor Square, and she’d asked him if he wished to show her around, particularly the library. Naturally he’d imagined she intended they find a private spot and swive like randy dogs, for she certainly had that effect on him.

Instead, in a well-lit library, which should have been his first clue something wasn’t right, while he’d pressed her onto the tufted divan, his passion soaring, suddenly, the door opened to his right. Their hostess, Lady Sullivan entered with what sounded like a gaggle of female guests behind her.

Their esteemed hostess took one look at his appalled face, as he lunged over Miss Talbot to hide her identity, and then Lady Sullivan backed out, closing the door with a bang. She must have trod on a few toes behind her, but he heard her firmly shepherding the party away from the library.

“I cannot breathe,” Miss Talbot had complained, and he’d climbed off of her with all due haste, his ardor not only cooled but absolutely frozen.

“How did you know they were coming in here?” he’d raged for she’d shown not the least bit of surprise nor worry. Worse, at his club he’d heard her name from the lips of another single man who’d said she’d tried to get him to kiss her in the garden just as a group of guests were approaching. He’d dismissed the words as a bitter tale due to unwanted advances.

But her cheeks had grown rosy with a blush of guilt.

“I heard you’d played this game before, but I didn’t believe it,” he said. “Why would a pretty viscount’s daughter need to trap a husband in such an underhanded way?”

“What on earth are you talking about?” she’d asked, arranging her features into one of confusion.

“Don’t play coy!” James had fumed at how closely her reputation had been ruined, and he would have had to marry her or be deemed the worst scapegrace and hell hound in London. “You specifically asked me to show you the library.”

“How could I know Lady Sullivan was going to pick this moment to come in?”

He had almost cracked his teeth for clenching his jaw so tightly.

“How do you know it was Lady Sullivan when I had you covered?”

“I ... I ...,” she’d stammered, her cheeks growing redder as she tried to come up with a lie. “By her voice, of course.”

“Lady Sullivan said not a word until after she closed the door. It could have been anyone. Admit it. You knew our hostess was coming in here and wanted us to be found in flagrante delicto.”

With her face set stubbornly, Miss Talbot had marched past him, her scheme to trap him thwarted. Only later did he learn from Lady Sullivan — whom he’d actually had a short affair with two years earlier before she’d married — that a poetry reading had been scheduled for the library. Solely the female guests had been invited, while the men were to play billiards. Arriving late, James had missed the announcement, but Miss Talbot knew of it.

Fortunately, Lady Sullivan thought she was doing him and his lover a favor by covering for them. Any other female, a vindictive lover or an appalled hostess, could have sent him into the parson’s noose that night.

James had sent Lady Sullivan and her husband a barrel of wine in gratitude.

Now, here was the minx casually referring to her despicable scheme. He might have been flattered she’d chosen him if over a cigar at the end of the evening, he hadn’t heard from another chap about a gumptious and brazen hoyden who’d asked him to show her the library that very night. Smarter than James, the other man had turned her down in favor of billiards and the safety of the herd.

Blast her!

James decided to ignore her pretty eyes and soft lips, or at least try to. “I am sure Prinny will offer a grand tour as the evening progresses.”

He bowed, realizing he had to get away from her then or risk giving in to the unmistakable attraction between them.

Then he recalled Leilton just as a dandified buck approached, obviously seeking the next dance.

“Hold a minute,” James said to the man, taking her a few steps away for he would not be accused of gossiping, no matter how true and with what good intentions he did so.

Miss Talbot stared up at him with undisguised curiosity.

“You were speaking with Lord Leilton earlier,” he said, and she nodded. “In case you are unaware, he is considered to be rather a dastardly damber.”

Her eyes widened, but she said nothing, so James continued.

“Reputedly, he leaves a trail of bachelor by-blows if you take my meaning.”

She opened her mouth and released a small “oh” of sound.

“Yes, I understand and thank you for the information.” Then she glanced away and back at him. “However, it is not my concern as I am already engaged.”

“Yes, of course.” He looked past her. “I believe your next dance partner grows restless.”

She nodded, sent him a smile, and turned away.

Damn him if her mere smile didn’t set desire coursing through his blood again. If he wasn’t careful, he would be the dastardly damber.

To stave off such inappropriate and ill-advised longing, he found himself a cockish wench who had come to Brighton to service the noblemen with no strings attached, although she might empty his purse by morning.

When the dance ended, and he’d all but decided to meet up with the game chit later and take her back to his rented home, James decided it was time to offer a formal greeting to Prinny. The prince had barely left his prime position by the windows, always a drink in hand, musicians close by, candles showing him at his flickering best, and one of the frowsy females still on either side of him.

To his amazement, as James traversed the room, Miss Talbot, bold as a bull, got there ahead of him. Oddsbodkins!

James watched as Miss Talbot curtsied low, offering the Prince Regent a fulsome view of the shadowy valley between her exquisite breasts. Outrageously, she introduced herself, as she had no escort nor chaperone, nor anyone close to the prince to stand up for her. If James had got there a moment ahead, he would have performed the introduction, instead, he was hanging behind her as if in line for bread.

Moreover, he couldn’t help but listen as she and Prinny immediately engaged in a discourse of utter whipped syllabub — frothy and silly and without substance. They made each other laugh, and then Prince George actually gestured for her to stand beside him, pushing one of the blowsabellas out of the way.

Watching Prinny procure a glass of wine and press it into her hand, James felt a little shudder of apprehension. If she wasn’t careful, Miss Talbot would finish the night with her heels up and everyone the wiser, ruining her engagement and shredding any good reputation she might value.

Shaking his head, he reminded himself it was none of his business. Then he took a step forward.

“Good evening, Your Royal Highness. You look well tonight.”

Prinny stared at him, a hard, unforgiving stare, and James swallowed.

Egad! If he only had fluttery eyelashes and big breasts he wouldn’t be in this mess.

“I always look well,” the Prince Regent told him. “You, on the other hand, look like a man who failed in his duty.”

Ouch!“It’s true I was unable to bring home the Apollo Belvedere, but I did bring back some paintings and a sculpture never before seen in Britain, sir.”

“Are they here?” A spark of interest shone in Prinny’s eyes.

“Indeed, yes. I brought them with me from London. However, if you would rather place them on display at Carlton House, I would be only too happy to speed them back up to Town at your earliest request.”

The prince flared his nostrils. “We’ll see.” Then he looked at Miss Talbot. “Hargrove, do you know this delightful creature?”

Know her?He’d kissed her thoroughly, and every part of his body had become inflamed with yearning for her. Catching her eye, he imagined she could read his thoughts.

“Yes, Your Highness. Miss Talbot and I danced at Apsley House.”

“Good, then you may keep her company this evening. She’s in Brighton without a friend in the world. Except for me,” Prinny added, sparing her a warm glance.

She returned him a generous smile, and James rolled his eyes.

“And now, she has you, too,” Prince George continued. “Between the two of us, we can make sure she has plenty of amusement while being kept out of the clutches of any rascals, rakes, or niffy-naffy fellows.”

James nearly spit his teeth out. So now he was to babysit the incorrigible wench until her wretched fiancé arrived?

His expression must have shown his disrelish, for Prinny gave him another cold look. “In fact, for the duration of her stay here, I ask that you keep an eye on this delicate creature with hair like the most beautiful horse’s mane.”

Again, James caught the sable glance of Miss Talbot, who merely raised an eyebrow. She wasn’t in the least ashamed of her treatment of him in London.

“There are rods in brine for you if you don’t,” the Prince Regent promised, then spread his lips into a meager smile as if he were joking, although James knew he wasn’t. Any more slip ups and he would probably lose his viscountcy. He would actually prefer those salted rods to his back.

Still, he laughed as if the notion of being punished was ridiculous.

“I’m sure I can keep her out of the suds, sir.”

How hard could it be?