Francie heard someone calling her name. More specifically, she thought she heard Reggie calling her name. She rushed out to the hallway to listen.

"Francie! No, get your bloody hands off me or I'll slug you again."

Definitely Reggie, and in something of a fury. "Reggie! I'm here!" She ran down the broad front steps with her cousins not far behind her. When she turned on the landing she saw that he was now held by two large footman and looked mad as a bull. She hurried down the rest of the steps. "Stop it, let him go. I'm here. What's wrong?"

When they released him he tugged his jacket back in place and glared at his captors. "I need to speak with you."

"I'm here. What is it?"

He shifted his glare to her cousins. "Perhaps if we had more privacy."

Jack stepped forward. "We're going to hear it anyway, so we might as well hear it as you intended."

He sighed, but took her hand and focused on her. "I need you to go to a ball tonight."

"You... fought their guards to ask me to a ball?" That seemed silly and oddly romantic.

"No, I am not taking you to the ball. I need you to attend the ball and meet me there."

"How do I attend a ball? What ball? Doesn't one need an invitation?"

"The Swindell ball. And I'm sure that someone you know," he looked at her cousins, "has an invitation. You will need a ball gown and an escort."

"But how-"

Jack put an arm over her shoulders and steered her away. "Come along, Cinderella."

"But Reggie-"

He stayed where he was, with the bruised footmen glaring at him. "I'll see you this evening."

She was not only in London but she was going to a ball? This was insanity. She suddenly planted her feet on the stairs. "I can't go to a ball. I can't."

Jack put an arm around her shoulders again. "Of course you can."

"No," she said, hearing the edge of panic creeping into her voice. "No, I can't. I have nothing to wear. I won't know what to do. I can't do this!"

She heard noise in the front hall. Perhaps Reggie had come back. He would take her away. They would go to Bermuda where things like this didn't happen. She was rushing down the stairs again but stopped when she realized the front hall was filled with strangers who were all giving over their outer garments to the raft of footmen.

"Francie?"

Her attention focused in on the willowy blond woman who said her name.

"Of courses that's Francie," a petite brunette nearby said. "She and Sam still look more alike than Jack looks like either of them."

"Not true," the blond replied. "She has Jack's nose."

Francie walked down the next few steps. "George? Sabre?"

"Your grace," about five people in the room corrected.

Sabre scowled around at all of them and then walked forward to hug Francie. "It's good to see you again."

"Your grace."

"It does have a nice ring to it, but you can still call me Sabre."

George hugged her next. "It's been too long."

"Yes it has."

Sabre took over, as was her way. "Your grace," she said to a fair and dapper man who stood at some distance to them. "Allow me to introduce Miss Francine Walters. Cousin to Jack and Sam who spent a few summers with us in Derbyshire. Francie, this is his grace Quincy Telford, Duke of Beloin."

"Your grace," Francie said, curtsying. The duke nodded to her.

"Miss Walters, allow me to introduce Mr. Rokiczana from Prussia. Casimir, this is Miss Walters."

The dashing brown-haired man bowed low over her hand. "It is my great pleasure to meet you." His voice had a rich foreign accent that she couldn't place.

"Well, now that that's all out of the way," George said, but Jack interrupted her.

"We've just found out that we need to get Francie ready for her first ball tonight. Is anyone planning to attend the Swindell's soirée?"

There was general murmuring in the negative but Sabre held her hand up. "Plans change," the little duchess said. "And I think our friend Francie could use our support this evening."

Francie couldn't help but notice the duke's face fell. This imposition was clearly not winning her favors with Sabre's husband.

George grumbled at her, "You been in town a day and you already owe me."

"I-I'm terribly sorry," Francie stammered. "You all needn't go out of your way for me."

"Of course we must," the earl said. She'd not noticed him rejoining their group and he seemed to be sizing her up in a way that he hadn't earlier. "That is what one does for family. Or so my lovely wife tells me."

Jack looked up at her husband adoringly. "It's worked so far," she reminded him.

Francie looked around the front hall. She was going to a ton ball with a near regiment of wealthy and titled friends. Just last week she'd been a simple dressmaker in a town no one in this room would have heard of if she didn't live there. She laughed a little wildly.

"Then it's time for my first ball."

 

***

 

Reggie didn't particularly want to go home, so he did what he should have the moment he'd landed in London. He presented himself on the steps of the Duke of Caversham's home.

"Reginald Burnham to see Harold Manners-Sutton, if you please."

"Come in, sir."

At last, a home that treated him like a gentleman. The butler left him to cool his heels in a front parlor.

"Reggie?"

He turned to see his friend's surprise. The darling Miss Phoebe was behind him, looking in the corners as though her cousin might be hiding there.

"Harry!" He said, clapping his friend on the back. "You both look well!"

"You received our letter, then?"

Reggie shook his head, "Er, no?"

Harry took Miss Phoebe's hand. "We're to be married. We were only waiting for your arrival."

"Have you called the banns?"

"Last week."

His friend looked so deucedly happy yet Reggie somehow didn't know what to say. Fortunately his breeding took over. "Congratulations," he said, taking his friend's arm in a strong clasp. He bowed over Phoebe's hand. "I'm sure he'll make you very happy. Or he'll get what for from me."

Phoebe giggled. "Where is Francie, though? I received the note from Harington House a short while ago and I hoped you brought her."

"I was just there," he said. "She's been terribly worried about you. Things have... worked out though? With Mr. Donovan?"

Miss Phoebe's face paled and Harry drew her close. "All's well that ends well."

Reggie could tell that the couple didn't want to talk about it just yet. "Perhaps once we are all together you can tell us?"

"Yes," Phoebe said, looking up at Harry with limpid eyes. "I would feel better if we were all together."

"I'm afraid I sent Francie into a spin today," Reggie said. "I've asked her to meet me at a ball this evening."

Phoebe's eyes widened, "A ball?"

"Yes. I need her to meet my parents and it was either this or," Reggie rubbed the back of his neck, "let my mother descend on Francie's aunt's receiving hours. That would be rather like inviting Napoleon to beach at Brighton."

"Meet your parents?" Harry asked. "Dare I assume?"

Reggie folded his arms, prepared for his friend's jibing. "Yes, you can assume."

Harry squeezed Phoebe's hand. "Didn't I say?" He turned back to Reggie. "I said you would fall for her."

Reggie smiled ruefully. "Yes, I fell for her."

Harry's eyes widened. "And he admits it! This must be true love indeed!"

"Yes, well," Reggie cleared his throat and put his hands behind his back. "Phoebe I'm afraid I have some bad news as well."

She clutched at Harry's arm before asking, "What? What happened?"

"After I fought one of those ruffians watching the shop, the bastard took his revenge by setting the place on fire."

"Oh!" The dark-haired beauty covered her mouth in shock. "Oh no! Poor Francie! Why didn't she put that in her note? She must be devastated!"

"Apparently nothing a little salt air couldn't cure."

"You sailed down as well?" Harry asked.

"Aye, we boarded the Lightning on her last sail before she's cleaned and sold. I helped them get her in shape a bit on the journey."

"Oh, capital!" Harry said. "We were on the Thunder!"

Reggie chuckled. "That is remarkable. Perhaps I should revisit my opinions about destiny."

"Destiny?" his friend asked, shocked.

"Oh, you know. The idea that everything happens for a reason and you're right where you need to be."

"Well," Harry said, looking down at Phoebe, "I certainly feel like I'm right where I need to be now."

"What about this evening?" Reggie asked. "Any interest in attending a ball?"

"Oh, Harry!" Phoebe said with excitement. "Could we?"

"I'm sure Amelia can find you something to wear."

Reggie nodded. "Capital. The Swindell ball. I'm sure the Cavershams have an invitation around here somewhere."