“Oh, and Mama wanted me to let you know our plans have changed for tomorrow. It seems Mrs. Briner is sick, so they have cancelled dinner with us. Thank goodness, too. Her son makes my skin crawl. Doesn’t he know I am a full three years older than him? I’ll not be turning my head for a mere child.”
Javenia bit back a laugh. The man who had led Cindy into dinner last night was seven years older than her. How strange social expectations could be.
“The plans, Cindy?” She prompted when her sister’s gaze traveled to the window without relaying what she’d come to say.
“Oh yes, the plans. We are for Lady Jersey’s card party. Isn’t it thrilling? Phillipa shall be there, and she’s promised we will find the handsomest men in the room to sit down to cards with us.”
A slow smile spread across Javenia’s face. It would be impossible for her sister to play cards with the handsomest man in attendance since Javenia planned on monopolizing all of Algenon’s time, but maybe she could find second best.
The change in schedule was a godsend, though. Her heart couldn’t take several days’ separation, not when she knew what pressures Algenon would face at every turn. She needed to be with him; she only hoped he needed to be with her just as much.
Algenon’s lip curled. If only his father’s aching head had lasted the whole of the season, he’d have been able to skip the opera and any other entertainment where Miss Weston would be in attendance. Not that she’d paid him much mind the last few evenings. She was too busy gathering admirers to sneak into dark corners or some such nonsense.
Why then had she chosen to suffocate him with her presence this evening? There were plenty of eligible men to flirt with and her father was not hovering over her to make certain she spent time with him. She had all the freedom she could wish for. Then again, he still did not understand Miss Weston’s motivation in seeking a connection with him.
She squeezed his arm, the one he’d not offered to her, but she’d taken anyway. “I do love a good game of whist.”
The last thing he wanted was to resign himself to another half hour in her presence, so he glanced about the room, looking for an escape.
“It looks like Lord Hamdon has an opening at his table.” He motioned in the viscount’s direction with his chin, hoping she’d take the hint and leave him alone.
“Oh, but I could not leave you all by yourself, Mr. Roberts.”
She ran one gloved finger down his upper sleeve, probably hoping to appear sensual. It had the opposite effect. Ice ran down his spine. He’d never been so grateful for multiple layers of fabric in his life.
“I promise you, I will be well entertained. Lord Ansley just arrived, and I have been meaning to speak with him on a current proposition in the House of Lords. However, if you are interested in politics, you are welcome to accompany me.”
As he’d expected, her nose scrunched like she’d smelled something rotten. “I think I will take that last seat by Lord Hamdon, after all.”
Algenon let out a sigh of relief the moment she was out of hearing.
“That bad?” A feminine voice asked behind him.
How could two wry words lift his spirits so much?
He slowly turned, schooling his face. “It depends. What is your definition of bad?”
Javenia’s lips quirked, and he found himself distracted by the lines about her mouth. They were so familiar and yet their appearance elicited the same excitement he would expect at seeing something fascinatingly new.
“If John were here, he would have a dozen definitions,” she said. “But as he is hiding away from Society again, I suppose we are left to our own devices. Tell me, is it bad like an aching tooth or bad like a rabid dog trotting by your side and leaving you to wonder when it will bite?”
Algenon chuckled. “Both, I think.”
Javenia’s smile fully bloomed as her gaze slowly took in the room. “It is good to know you have some sense. If you’d started vomiting sonnets on that walking disaster, I’d have had you committed to an asylum myself.”
“Walking disaster? Oh come now, Javenia. Have a heart.” She raised an eyebrow at him and it took everything within him not to laugh. “At least admit she is a well-dressed walking disaster.”
The snicker she covered with her hand was a heady reward. He loved making her laugh, especially when she was determined not to. There was something about it that filled his chest and lifted his own spirits. It made him feel accomplished, like it was a talent only he possessed.
After a moment, she sobered. “I see your father has recovered.”
Algenon’s countenance fell. “He has. This ache lasted longer than the ones in the past, but as usual, he is back to good health.”
She didn’t answer him, not that he’d expected her to. They both knew what sort of restraint was expected in his father’s company. With that in mind, he shifted to her side instead of facing her. Clasping his arms behind his back, he donned the appearance of disinterest… and he hated every second of it.
He hated that they had to play like they barely knew one another. Of all the people in the room, he knew Javenia best. Heknew the foods she liked, the smells she didn’t, he even knew about the strawberry shaped birthmark on her back.
“What is that mischievous smile about?” Javenia asked, wariness in her tone.
