“Naturally,” he said, not seeming the least bothered by her dig at his fickle plurality of females.
Why would he?Unlike her, he knew exactly who he was, not conflicted by heart and mind and body.
“Then I suggest you find one of them and stick her on the hot brick in your cozy carriage.” She walked swiftly away, glad she hadn’t mentioned Lady Arabella twice. Then he would know of her unreasonable possessiveness, and he would probably grin with vanity.
After all, he had never belonged to her.
***
JASPER HAD HOPED ITwould all happen as before. He would take Julia riding and divert their horses to his home — except this time, he wanted to carry their intoxicating attraction through to its inevitable completion. By now, she must have got over Lady Daphne’s bothersome warning, and as they didn’t have Lady Chandron’s threat hanging over them any longer, he was assured Julia would give in to the powerful pull between them.
So why was she walking away?
He reached for a glass of lemonade on the table. He thought he was the experienced one, but Miss Sudbury seemed to have him wrapped around her finger. And each time she blew hot or cold, he was on tenterhooks.
WherewasLady Arabella? She was beautiful and easy to control, and he never felt off-kilter in her company. That made her the perfect female. Yet all he could think of was his blonde minx.
What to do?Julia was ruining all his fun. It made no sense to be London’s most notorious rake if he couldn’t even participate in his usual licentious activities.
Draining the last drops of the lemonade, he wondered why he’d bothered instead of drinking from his flask. Although, he had to admit, it was refreshing.
Like Julia Sudbury.
In frustration, he ran a hand through his hair, knowing Blumsey would be annoyed to see him looking less than spectacular as it reflected badly on one’s valet. Yet Jasper knew what he had to do. He had to claim the infernal woman as his own. He would spell it out for her this very evening. Nothing permanent, not at this juncture, but he could inform her of his desire to have an exclusive arrangement — more than a mistress but less than a wife.
A chit from Chislehurst ought to be satisfied with such.
Sowhat was he waiting for?Why hadn’t he pressed his case more quickly, especially after her willingness in his own home? Indeed, what could possibly have caused him to hesitate from the first time her sparkling spirit had reached inside him and taken hold of his ... his soul?
Fear, plain and simple, that’s what stopped him. Liking a woman, admiring her, wanting to be in her company — and all without tupping her regularly — was a new and terrifying experience. A weakness that left him vulnerable.
Dammit!He was no coward. He’d been to war in France and faced the enemy with more grit than he felt squaring off with Julia. Tugging upon his waistcoat, he straightened and decided to engage with the enemy that very evening.
What better place than a ballroom?
***
JULIA HOPED SARAH WOULDN’Twant to stay late. Having danced with Jasper and desperately wanting to give in to his invitation to ride straight to blissful purgatory, she needed to leave. She ought to go home, remove the fancy gown and undress her hair so it was back in the plain braids of youth, and remember who she was.
However, Sarah wasn’t waiting for her by the tall windows. Her sister was actually dancing, which was a lovely sight, warming Julia’s heart. She wandered the edges of the dance floor until she reached the far end by the musicians, and then she strolled back again, just in time to see Jasper heading directly for her.
At the look in his eyes, she caught her breath. Clearly, he had something important on his mind.
About ten feet from her, Lady Arabella Doulton stepped into his path, her back to Julia, her mass of dark curls flowing down her back.
Faltering, she couldn’t continue her own forward movement or risk running straight into the couple. But at hearing the young woman immediately raise her voice, sounding in high dudgeon, Julia paused.
“I have never been treated so shabbily,” Lady Arabella proclaimed.
Around Julia, the murmur of voices died down, as the evening’s real entertainment began.
“I am sorry you feel that way,” Jasper said, his head darting sideways so he could look past the peeved woman and catch Julia’s gaze.
Taking a step back, Julia couldn’t imagine why he was drawing her into the unhappy tableau. She shook her head ever so slightly, warding him off.
“Are you listening to me?” Lady Arabella screeched.
“Everyone is,” he told her, keeping his voice calm. “Thus, I suggest you lower your voice.” Then he did the unthinkable. He placed his hand upon her arm. “Let’s go somewhere private where you can tell me what has you up in the boughs.”
