“What of Lady Bethany?” Mantis queried.
Chase laughed out loud. “Jules doesn’t have to worry about Bethany. She’ll be more concerned that her hostess’s chairs line up perfectly than she’ll care about filling her dance card. Last night I caught her measuring the distance between your mother’s candlesticks.” Chase shook his head.
Greys raised his brows. “Would you care to wager on that, Chaswick?”
Jules glanced at the marquess. What the devil? But then Stone touched his arm. “I’ll keep Tabetha out of harm’s way. You have my word.” The sincere expression on his friend’s face meant a great deal to him.
“I appreciate that.”
“And for the record, you didn’t have to win a bet for me to do it.”
Jules knew this. “For the record, you are welcome to use my curricle until Charley and I return.”
A knock sounded on the door. “Thank God,” Chase intoned. “I thought for a moment the two of you were going to break into song.”
“Come in.” Jules dismissed the Baron’s sarcasm and moved quickly toward the door. Anticipation had his heart dancing because he was ninety-nine percent sure it was…
The door opened.
Her eyes. He tended to notice her eyes first whenever she entered a room. And then those lips, which in this moment were tilted into a satisfied smile. As proud as he was to show her off as his fiancée, Jules was even more anxious to get her alone.
“My father is prepared to speak with you,” she informed him.
Ominous music played hauntingly from the corner, followed by laughter all around. Peter was quite enjoying himself this morning.
Jules sent a scowl over his shoulder.
“Where is he?” He placed his hand on the small of her back. He was finding it quite impossible to be in the same room without touching her somehow.
“He is in the morning room.” Her smile grew. “And I believe you will find him quite amenable.”
Wishes of luck followed Jules and Charley, as the two of them exited into the foyer. But Jules didn’t march directly to meet with Jackson. The moment the door closed behind them, he pinned Charley to the wall and captured her lips for a heady good morning kiss.
“I missed you last night,” he whispered against her mouth. Although they managed to slip away to the orangery a few times, her maid was always hovering in the evenings.
Jules wasn’t getting much sleep lately and found himself counting the days until he could have her in his bed every night.
“Missed you,” she mumbled back, her slender fingers threading themselves in his hair. “Thirteen more days,” she reminded him.
“And thirteen more nights,” he moaned, loving the feel of her laughing and somehow knowing he’d always want more of this.
She broke the kiss and leaned back in his arms. “He agreed to everything, Jules!” Her eyes were shining from joy and her lips shined from his kiss.
“Your blend?”
“Yes.” She nodded.
“And no slave labor?”
She nodded again. “But, Jules—he told me my mother opposed it too. And that I reminded him of her that way. And that he was proud of me.”
As a tear spilled past her lashes, Jules caught it with his lips. “Of course, he’s proud of you.” And her words struck something in him.
Charley wasn’t going to be a typical countess. She was going to be a magnificent countess.
“I think my father would have liked you, Charley.” His own words gave him pause. His father would have loved that Jules was marrying a woman that wanted fairness and justice for others, not only for her own kind.
“He would have been proud of you.” She gazed up at him and Jules was once again lost in her eyes. “As will your mother.”
