The next morning dawned crisp and clear, with sunlight breaking through the canopy of oak trees lining the drive to Tredegar Hall. Lord Ianto Jones sat at the breakfast table, his eyes skimming the day's papers, though his mind was far from the printed words before him. His thoughts lingered on the previous night's encounter—on him. Captain Jack Harkness.
Ianto had heard of the captain's reputation, of course. The ton whispered about his exploits on the battlefield and in society, weaving tales of his charm and triumphs. But it wasn't Jack's military accolades that stirred something within Ianto's chest. It was the way Jack had looked at him, as if no one else in the crowded ballroom existed.
"Lord Jones," came the familiar voice of Owen Harper, his valet, breaking Ianto's reverie. Owen stood in the doorway, holding up an immaculate coat. "The Hartsfield garden party is today. Shall I prepare your attire?"
Ianto sighed softly, folding the paper with precision. "Another tedious gathering of simpering debutantes and ambitious mothers, no doubt."
"Indeed," Owen replied dryly, unfazed by his lordship's dismissal. "But I suspect there will be one or two eager to secure your favor."
Ianto raised an eyebrow. "And should I disappoint them, will society collapse into chaos?"
Owen's lips twitched, though his expression remained dutiful. "Society will endure, my Lord. Though Lady Gwen will not forgive your absence so easily."
At the mention of her name, Ianto's gaze sharpened. Lady Gwendolyn Cooper—widely known as Lady Gwen—was determined, almost ruthlessly so. A daughter of the Viscount Cooper, she had long since set her sights on Captain Jack Harkness. Their flirtations had become a matter of gossip at every gathering, though Jack had yet to take the bait. Ianto suspected Gwen found it all a rather enjoyable pursuit.
But Lady Gwen's best friend, Miss Lisa Hallett, was no less ambitious. Beautiful and equally well-connected, Lisa had her own designs, and they were firmly fixed on Ianto.
Ianto's fingers tapped against the table in quiet contemplation. Gwen and Lisa were persistent, but he had long since perfected the art of polite avoidance. "Let us hope Lady Gwen's interests remain with Captain Harkness," he muttered under his breath.
Owen smirked and laid out the coat. "Shall I prepare you for the inevitable?"
Jack Harkness, meanwhile, was surrounded by far less grandeur as he paced his barracks, his mind equally occupied with thoughts of Lord Jones. The crisp lines of his uniform had been carefully arranged, his appearance a reflection of the discipline ingrained from years of military service. Yet the memory of last night's encounter gnawed at him. Ianto's cool demeanor, the way his eyes had lingered just a touch too long—it was the kind of intrigue that Jack found impossible to resist.
Jack knew the dangers of such an attraction. He had seen enough scandal ruin men of standing, and despite his charm, he was still bound by the same rules of propriety that governed everyone else in their class. But that didn't stop him from thinking about Ianto, nor did it prevent him from imagining what might be.
His thoughts were interrupted by a sharp knock at the door. His lieutenant, Thomas, entered, his expression grave.
"Captain, you are requested at the Hartsfield garden party this afternoon. Lady Gwen specifically mentioned your attendance."
Jack's grin widened. "Lady Gwen? Why, how could I resist?"
Thomas's mouth tightened. "I would advise caution, sir. Lady Gwen has been quite… persistent."
Jack chuckled, clasping his sword belt. "Yes, persistent is a good word for it."
Lady Gwen, daughter of a Viscount, had been making her interest in Jack abundantly clear for some time. She was stunning, her dark hair and quick wit often the subject of admiration, but Jack had no desire to be caught in her web. He had no intention of becoming the object of her ambitions, even if she believed otherwise.
Thomas cleared his throat, uncomfortable. "Shall I ready your carriage, Captain?"
Jack nodded, the hint of a smirk still on his lips. "Indeed. It seems my duty calls."
The Hartsfield estate was the epitome of elegance, its perfectly manicured gardens awash in soft pastels as ladies in fine gowns fluttered between rosebushes, shaded by parasols. Gentlemen in immaculately tailored coats conversed in groups, their voices drifting above the gentle hum of the event.
Ianto arrived fashionably late, a skill honed over years of attending such gatherings. His presence was announced with the quiet reverence due a man of his standing, and the heads of several young ladies turned almost instinctively. Among them, Lisa Hallett stood close to her dear friend Gwen, watching Ianto's every move with a predatory gleam in her eye.
Lisa had long been attached to the idea of making Ianto her husband. With her delicate beauty and impeccable breeding, she believed herself more than worthy of the title Lady Jones. And she was not one to give up easily.
Gwen, beside her, was equally preoccupied, though her gaze was firmly set on Captain Jack Harkness, who had just arrived at the far end of the garden, resplendent in his military uniform. She smiled to herself. Today, she thought, he will not escape.
As Jack made his way toward the gathering crowd, his eyes swept the gardens, instinctively searching for one person among the throng. And then, he saw him.
In his deep green coat that perfectly complemented his eyes, Lord Ianto stood by the fountain, effortlessly commanding attention with his presence. The sun hit him just right, casting a soft glow over his dark curls. Jack's heart gave an uncharacteristic jolt.
Their gazes locked, and for a brief moment, the carefully orchestrated social scene faded into the background. Ianto gave the slightest of nods, a silent acknowledgment of their shared secret.
Before Jack could make his way over, however, Gwen appeared at his side, her gloved hand resting lightly on his arm. "Captain Harkness," she said brightly, "I'm so glad you could attend. You must allow me to introduce you to some of my friends. They have been dying to meet the hero of the hour."
Jack's smile didn't falter, though his mind was elsewhere. "Lady Gwen," he said smoothly, "how could I refuse such an invitation?"
From across the garden, Ianto watched the exchange with a twinge of amusement. Gwen was as determined as ever, though it seemed Jack had little interest in being caught. Beside him, Lisa sidled up, her voice lilting with practiced sweetness.
"My Lord, you look splendid today," Lisa said, her gaze raking over him with an intimacy that made Ianto's skin prickle.
"Miss Hallett," Ianto replied politely, giving her the bare minimum of attention. "You are as charming as ever."
Lisa's lips curled into a coy smile. "I trust you will honor me with a dance later, my Lord? I should hate to think you are avoiding me."
Ianto inclined his head, his tone measured. "It would be my pleasure."
But his thoughts were far from Lisa Hallett, just as Jack's were far from Lady Gwen. As the games of propriety played out, both men found themselves drawn back to the brief moment they had shared in the ballroom and the knowledge that something far more dangerous than courtship was beginning to take root between them.
As Gwen led Jack away and Lisa continued her flirtations, Ianto's gaze once again found Jack's, and in that silent exchange, there was an unspoken promise.
The game, it seemed, was only beginning.
