“A party of three?” Jasper asked. He’d hoped his mother had given up on the notion of having a hodge-podge celebration, tossed together at the last minute.
“Nonsense,” his mother said, standing and causing Jasper to rise to his feet. “We shall invite the local gentry.”
“You despise the local gentry. The Woodwynns and the McCauliffs are the bane of your existence.”
Her ladyship sighed. “I will see past my disrelish of them for a party. Besides, we shall also invite Lord and Lady Turner from Wildwood Hall, and she is a delight. Perhaps even some guests from London.”
He winced. “It seems a little eleventh hour of us, don’t you think? Surely everyone has their plans in place, particularly the Turners. What’s more, trying to procure enough food and drink on short notice really could tax our coffers.”
“Jasper!” she admonished, glancing with embarrassment at Julia, who pretended she hadn’t been listening. “I’m sure we could manage a festive party. Although, we must be sure to save enough pennies and pounds for a wedding.”
Leaving that suggestion hanging in the air, the dowager countess excused herself and left the room.
Julia almost felt sorry for the earl with a mother who would try to bind her son to an unknown female. Why, Julia didn’t even have a dowry beyond a few lacey linens.
Jasper was staring at her oddly, and she couldn’t imagine what he was thinking, except perhaps regret at hauling her into his coach instead of booting her back to the London street.
“Are you ready for the tour?” he asked.
Chapter Thirty-One
“All of Mayfair feels the lack of Lord M__ at year’s end. Without him, there seems to be a total eclipse of the fun.”
-The Times
Julia’s soft pink lipsbeckoned Jasper to kiss her. Or at least, that was what he imagined nearly every moment they toured his family home. From the smallest salon they used for intimate dining to the gray drawing room and then into the larger room, the burgundy salon, where they held receptions and small concerts, he led her, pointing out anything remotely interesting.
From there to a sitting room and then their formal dining room. At this she gasped.
“That is one of the longest tables I’ve ever seen.”
“It’s impressive,” he agreed, “but nothing compared to Prinny’s at Carlton House.”
She laughed, a delightful sound. He nearly took her into his arms, but refrained. It was the first day and their first few minutes alone. He didn’t want to scare her off.
“My mother likes you,” he remarked instead, after they passed through to the garden parlor, pausing to look out the large side exit, before completing the circuit through the library and then into the front hall.
