John cleared his throat to cover a chuckle and changed the subject. “I was beginning to think you wouldn’t arrive before they announced dinner.”
“I wondered if we’d arrive in time as well.” Algenon let out a long-suffering sigh. “Phillipa could not decide between the pale pink or the robin’s egg blue gown this evening. Honestly with her coloring, blue looks best, but I know better than to make a recommendation.”
“Why is that?” Susannah asked, returning to their group. “Of any gentleman in this room, I would trust your tastes the most.”
Javenia had to agree. Algenon’s knowledge of fashion was impeccable, exactly why she knew which modistes were best in London. She’d had the very dress she was wearing designed by a woman he had recommended to multiple other ladies. However, she also knew Phillipa’s disposition better than Susannah.
“Yes, but would you trust your brother to choose your gown?” Javenia raised a single eyebrow.
Susannah pondered for a moment, then smiled sheepishly. “Probably not. It is a risk a sister ought not to take.”
“And there lies the problem. Algenon is more likely to choose the least flattering just for a lark.”
His mouth dropped open, the faux look of offense far too theatrical to be taken seriously. “You wound me. I would think by now you’d know I do not play when it comes to fashion.”
His dandified tone threatened to make her laugh. He was a bit of a fop, but he hadn’t always been. Four years ago, his coats and cravats had been far more subdued, but something had changed. If she knew him as well as she thought, it probably had to do with his father. A silent protest or maybe a way to set himself apart.
She laid one hand upon his sleeve and fluttered the other at her neckline, badly imitating the many featherheaded females she’d witnessed fawning over him. “Oh dear, please forgive my offense. How could I have doubted your indisputable good taste?” Then she batted her lashes for effect.
Algenon’s lips rolled inward as he pressed them firmly together. Laughter danced in his eyes, but he held it in. He laid his gloved hand over the one she had placed on his arm and she braced herself for whatever mischief he was about to spit out.
He gave two gentle pats. “It is quite understandable… for someonelacking in mental acuity.”
She slammed her hand over her mouth to keep from snorting out a laugh.
The butler chose that moment to open the door and announce dinner; the added noise of everyone shuffling into line saving her from being overheard as she tried to gain control over her mirth. Her mother glanced her way, concern etching her brow, but no one else seemed to notice. Thankfully, her father was still engaged in a conversation with Lady Plum, a widow of some years and one of the biggest busybodies in London.
To Javenia’s right, Susannah took the arm of an older gentleman, while John offered his arm to the man’s wife. She’d not paid enough attention to all the guests to know where she fell in line of rank, so when Algenon stepped to her side and offered his arm, she was pleasantly surprised.
His gaze softened. “It seems we are evenly matched this evening.”
Truer words had never been spoken. If only he could see how well they suited one another. But his father—
Javenia tensed, her eyes flicking over the faces in the room. If Lord Roberts had witnessed half of what had transpired between them, he’d be livid. Any issues with her own father could be easily addressed later in the evening, but Lord Roberts would not hesitate to make his objections known, although quietly and for her ears only. The man was not stupid. He’d never cause a scene that might damage his reputation.
Algenon bent close to her ear. “He’s not here.” His warm breath tickled her neck, sending frissons of awareness all the way to the tips of her fingers, but it was his words that allowed her heart to take flight.
They had a whole evening free of Lord Roberts’s oppressive presence. One whole evening for her to put her list to good use, and she knew just which one to employ.
She laid her hand on his sleeve. “Lead on, then.”
Algenon needed to get control over himself. There was something different in Javenia’s movements. She sat closer to him, moved her hand to and from her plate in a way that drew his gaze repeatedly to her lips. Even the way she slowly sipped her drink was alluring. Perhaps it was the lighting, or maybe the wine was getting to his head. The amazing dress she’d chosen for the evening probably had magical powers that drew his eyes like magnets to metal.
He’d memorized every gown she owned, so he knew this one was new. Someone had expertly sewed the tucks that created the puffed short sleeves, the yellow fabric laying perfectly against Javenia’s creamy skin. His gaze followed the flow of fabric to its square neckline and down to the ribbon that gathered the fabric below her bust. Was that a pearl embedded in the cream-colored bow?
Someone gave a little cough and his gaze shot to Javenia’s. She was glancing at him out of the corner of her eye.
Algenon wanted to crawl beneath the table.
Twice he’d been caught staring in places he absolutely should not. Would she believe him if he explained his innocence?
“That is a lovely… pearl.” He pointed slightly with his chin. Too late, he realized he’d admitted his guilt.
A smile played on her lips. “Thank you.”
No chiding or correction? He speared a piece of boiled potato and popped it into his mouth.
“And what do you think of the sleeves?”
