Page 27

“Oh, pish posh.” She wrinkled her nose, causing the smattering of freckles to dance. “It takes much more than disrobing to shock you. Besides, any fit man would suffice.”

The voices grew louder.

A man and woman argued passionately, though they were still too far away for Aubriella to discern their words.

Jack jutted his chin toward the entrance. “I fear we are about to be interrupted.”

Lips pressed tight, Aubriella opened her hand, and the dice tumbled off her fingertips.

The first rolled to a stop.

A six.

She stood little chance of winning, but he still held his breath.

The second tumbled a little farther.

And a one.

Bloody hell.

She’d done it, by Jove.

He ought to be vexed.

Instead, Jack was pleased for her, even if he found himself in a deuced pickle.

“I won,” Aubriella breathed, half in awe and half in delight. She lifted her bright eyes to Jack’s. “I won. You have to let me sketch you. And I want to do it while we’re here. It will be easier to go unnoticed.”

Bollocks.

He thought he’d have until they returned to London to devise a location or renege. He grunted. “I’ll have the why of that strange wager about Miss Willoughby one way or the other.”

“It’s nothing. I assure you.” She made a flapping motion with her hand as she collected the dice.

Her too-innocent demeanor didn’t fool him. Aubriella was an atrocious actress and a worse liar.

“It’s not nothing when the chit tried to force me to marry her,” he retorted with more heat than intended.

Aubriella’s expression grew shuttered, and if she’d slammed the doors and locked them, she couldn’t have been clearer. Their amiable interlude had ended, and she’d retreated to cool aloofness again.

“I saw you together last year, and from what I observed, you weren’t exactly impartial to her overtures.” Accusation and censure threaded her tone, now as frigid as the Arctic.

Jack racked his brain.

When could Aubriella have seen him?

That certainly explained her don’t-come-near-me-leper-attitude these past months.

Her color high, she slid a glance to the door. “I only interjected earlier because I dislike anyone being bullied or manipulated. Still, if you are responsible…”

“I am not responsible for Francine’s condition. In fact, I’ve avoided her like the plague after she practically accosted me in the conservatory during last year’s Christmastide house party.” He curled his lip in disgust. “Is that where you saw us?”

Jack couldn’t very well tell Aubriella he was a virgin. Not only did he doubt she’d believe him, it was wholly inappropriate.

Expression taut, Aubriella gave a tense dip of her chin. “I left at once, of course.”

“If you’d stayed, you would’ve seen me scold her for her forwardness and make it clear I had no interest in her and never would before⁠—”