soldier who’d kill her countrymen without a second thought. He’d probably kill her if he knew what she was about. She should tell him she felt unwell and call the whole thing off. But even as the rational thoughts raced through her mind, she slowly stood and walked to the door, smiling shyly at the captain, who was standing at the bottom of the stairs, his tricorn beneath his arm.
“Ready?” he asked, returning her smile tenfold. “You look lovely.”
“Do I?” Jocelyn asked, her hand going to her hair in a gesture of false modesty. She knew she looked good, just as she knew that he admired her.
“You are beautiful,” Captain Denning replied breathlessly. “Shall we?”
He bowed to the major, who’d stepped out of the parlor to see what was going on.
“Where are you two off to?” the major asked, his lips pursing with disapproval.
“I’m taking Mistress Sinclair out for an early supper,” Captain Denning replied, his jaw tightening.
The major looked like he was about to rebuke the captain but seemed to change his mind. “Don’t keep her out too late,” he said in an icy tone.
“No, sir. I won’t.”
Major Radcliffe glared at Jocelyn, his eyes dark pools of displeasure. Jocelyn averted her gaze as she walked past him and stepped outside into the balmy haze of the late afternoon.
“I think he’s angry with us,” she said to the captain as they fell into step.
“I can’t imagine why,” Captain Denning replied, his brows knitted in consternation.
“Is there some military protocol regarding mixing with the help?” Jocelyn asked playfully, trying to make light of the major’s obvious anger.
“Not that I’m aware of,” Captain Denning replied. “And I wouldn’t call this mixing. We’re simply going out for a meal. It’s not as if—” He went quiet, wisely deciding not to finish the sentence.
Jocelyn looked down, partly amused by his embarrassment and partly wary. She could guess what he’d been thinking, and the idea made her uncomfortable. Perhaps the major had a good reason for his reaction. If her relationship with Captain Denning went beyond friendship, living under the same roof might prove uncomfortable for them both and could lead to the loss of their positions. She didn’t think Captain Denning would mind a transfer overmuch, but she would certainly rue losing access to the major and the information he was privy to as a highly placed officer on General Howe’s staff.
“Don’t worry. I’ll smooth things over with the major,” Captain Denning said, looking down at her anxiously.
“I can ill afford to lose my position,” Jocelyn said.
“You won’t. I will formally ask the major for permission to court you,” the captain said, his blush turning a deeper shade of pink.
“Is this what this is? A courtship?”
“I would very much like it to be,” the captain replied. “I have the greatest admiration for you, Jocelyn. I hope you don’t think my intentions are anything less than honorable.”
I don’t know what to think, Jocelyn thought as she allowed him to take her arm while crossing the street to the tavern on the other side.
She hadn’t been to this tavern before. It was called the King’s Cross and boasted a slightly different clientele than the taverns just off Broadway Street, which were jammed with tommies and occasionally their unsavory companions. Jocelyn spotted several officers dining together, and there were a number of couples, the women well dressed and clearly respectable, not the type of company one paid for by the hour.
Captain Denning escorted her toward a back parlor, which was divided into four alcoves, the tall backs of the booths allowing extra privacy. He must have reserved a table in advance, since there was only one alcove left unoccupied. Captain Denning led her directly toward it.
“Good evening, Captain. Mistress,” the waiter said as they sat down. “Your usual?” he asked, looking to the captain.
“Do you like claret, Jocelyn, or would you prefer something else to drink?”
“Claret is fine,” Jocelyn replied. She suddenly wondered if Jared had brought other women here before her and felt a pang of irrational jealousy. The waiter bowed deferentially and went to fetch the wine.
“They know you here,” Jocelyn said, watching him.
“I come here nearly every Sunday,” Captain Denning replied. “This is the first time I’ve brought a companion, though,” he added, his gaze meeting hers.
“Do you normally dine alone?”
“Yes.”
“Don’t you find it lonely?” Jocelyn asked.
“I’m quite used to being on my own. During the week, I’m expected to dine with the major, or other officers if we’re invited out, so one solitary