Chills (10 page)

“And who would tell? My brother is nothing if not discreet. Look how well he has managed to hide this future wife of his. I have not heard a whisper of her name or even met the woman. The man knows how to keep a secret. He’s done so for years.”

“I thought you were already acquainted with her?”

Virginia scowled. “He is being a beast about it. Besides I am hoping that word of your elegant presence on his arm will bring her out into the open. If my intended was dancing about during the season with a very pretty woman constantly on his arm, I would hurry myself to London quick smart. Either the woman or her relatives shall come running to confront my brother. I just hope to be around to identify them.”

“You’re planning on using me as bait?”

“That is such a terrible way to describe it, but, yes, I suppose I am. Do you see how desperate I've become about the matter? If only he would speak of it to me, but he is annoyingly closed-mouthed. He even went so far as to deny the betrothal existed, but I know better. Our father confirmed the arrangement before he died. He just didn’t share the woman’s name. But there is a lovely benefit for me—I get the advantage of having your company while I await the opportunity to find out who she is. Can you imagine a greater happiness?”

Constance pressed her hands to her face, aghast at her predicament. She refused to become involved in any scheme that might irritate Jack further. Her presence was burden enough.

CHAPTER SEVEN

PREPARING FOR HER first London ball was a nerve-racking experience. Constance gripped the sides of her ball gown and then chastised herself. She did not want to wrinkle the deep blue silk, but still, she fidgeted with the neckline. No matter how she tugged and pushed, she could not hide her physical assets. Her breasts looked about to spill out of the gown. One inelegant stumble and society would know far too much about her.

“You look beautiful,” Virginia complimented from her spot by the door. “The gentlemen will have a hard time keeping their eyes from you. I told you my brother has excellent taste.”

Constance blanched. In the confusion of ordering, she hadn’t remembered one dress from the next. Had Jack chosen this gravity-defying ball gown? She quickly considered whether she would have enough time to change, but the marquess had already sent up a note asking them to hurry along. She couldn’t delay.

“You look lovely, too. Pink is a wonderful color for you. On me, it looks hideous.”

Grasping her courage along with her evening reticule, she moved away from the mirror’s startling reflection. Virginia watched her with a fond smile. Did she really not care that her brother’s choice of gown threatened to make a scandal all its own?

But Virginia merely adjusted the chain around her neck and then touched her cheek. “Come, my brother is impatient to be on his way. They are waiting for us in the library.”

Determined to keep the evening on a festive note, Constance refrained from uttering her fears aloud. Virginia appeared content for the first time since her arrival. She didn’t want to ruin her friend’s pleasure.
 

But Constance frowned. “They? Is Lord Hallam attending the ball with us? I thought he had little interest in London society.”

“Who can understand what Lord Hallam thinks? He has it in his head to join our party. I do hope he has done something constructive with his appearance. At least, I hope he possesses a decent set of evening clothes.”

“I am sure he will have done his best,” Constance assured her. But the comment about Lord Hallam intrigued her. Virginia’s reactions and contemplations were unconsciously done, but she had a much deeper interest in the gruff man than she cared to acknowledge.

“At least I can count on Hallam to frighten away the dull and dim-witted. Lady Huntley has a rather broad circle of acquaintances, I’m sorry to say. I cannot believe Jack agreed to attend this event as our first. He doesn’t often associate with the Huntley’s. Aside from pleasing your mama, which I think there is little chance of anyway, I wonder if there is a connection to his future bride. We must keep our ears and eyes open.”

Constance rubbed her wrist as she pondered Virginia’s suggestion. She’d rather not become involved in the siblings’ squabble. “Virginia, what if your brother learns of your plans to uncover her identity? You do remember I cannot keep a secret from him, don’t you? He will know the whole of your scheme within minutes.”

“It will serve him right for keeping his own counsel,” Virginia insisted. “Come, you look perfect. We have a husband to find for you. The gentlemen shall be struck blind by your beauty and will be pounding on our door on the morrow.”

Was it possible to feign illness and stay safe within Ettington House instead?

Assaulted by doubts, Constance descended the stairs, her slippers making little noise on the treads. By half-way, she had managed to push her worries aside. Virginia might need her support tonight amongst the hundreds of guests sure to attend the Huntley Ball.

When the last few stairs came into view, Constance raised her gaze and found herself mesmerized. Jack and Lord Hallam were not waiting in the library at all, but were standing at the bottom step, watching their slow progress.

Jack was just too beautiful for words. The dark evening suit, white stockings, shirt and cravat off-set by a silver-headed cane he held loosely in his hands created a dazzling picture that stole her breath.

Hallam let out an oath that broke the mood and Jack spoke sharply to him.

“Forgive me, Miss Grange. Perhaps those were not the correct words to express how exquisite you both look this evening. I am quite overcome.”

Hallam bowed extravagantly, but Constance wasn’t fooled. He liked behaving badly. The few days she had spent in his company had opened her eyes. He behaved as he did to force Virginia to react.

Constance managed a weak smile and tried not to stare at the marquess. No man should be so handsome. Jack handed his cane to Parkes, exchanging it for her wrap. With a faint quirk to his lips, he moved to enclose her in it.

Gloved fingers slid beneath the fine material, ghosting over her skin as he extracted a loose curl trapped beneath. He ran his fingertips over the clasp of her necklace and settled it where it should be. As his hands left her skin, one finger swept along her jaw to her chin, forcing Constance’s gaze to lift. The blue of his eyes was so bright she had to blink or suffer blindness.

Uncertain of what to make of Jack’s caress, she hastily looked toward the others. Virginia and Hallam were turned away, conversing in whispered, furious tones. While she watched, Hallam drew closer to Virginia but she backed up a step, her eyes widening with what Constance thought might be fear.

As Constance prepared to intervene, without even a by-your-leave, Jack secured her arm and led her forcibly from the house, almost pushing her into the carriage.

~ * ~

Jack waited until Pixie settled then took the opposite, rear-facing seat. “I would suggest you do not become involved in affairs between Hallam and my sister.” Pixie opened her mouth to argue, but Jack held up his hand. “Two can play at matchmaker.”

As Virginia climbed inside, Jack grabbed her hand and pulled her to sit beside him. He refused to let Virginia cling to her friend all night. When Hallam entered, he filled the remaining space beside Pixie with his bulk, but his legs stretched to touch Virginia’s skirts.

The awkward journey lasted no time at all. No one spoke. Pixie twisted her hands nervously and Virginia attempted not to touch Hallam, who appeared oblivious to her distress but was, in fact, surreptitiously watching Jack’s twin.

For his part, Jack was trying to avoid thinking. His knees bumped Pixie’s with every sway of the carriage, and a healthy dose of lust was not making his task easy. He hadn’t imagined the blue gown would have such an overwhelmingly arousing effect on him. But that gown, and the view he had unwittingly afforded himself, was going to torture him all night.

By the time they reached Huntley House, Jack had his inappropriate lust in hand. Years of navigating society had forced him to learn to control his emotions, to hide his real thoughts from others. Hiding them from Pixie, however, was uppermost in his mind.

It didn’t matter that his hand tingled when he helped her out of the carriage. She was not for him, and apparently he was not for her either. Tonight he needed to pretend he was still her guardian.

Jack could have chosen not to help her out of the carriage, but he would be damned if he would allow a groom to touch her. Pixie looked stunning in her new gown and he yearned to touch more of the creamy smooth skin exposed by the lower neckline.

No matter how much he tried to talk himself into a reasonable state of mind, he wanted this tiny, bewitching woman in his bed.

As they flowed up the steps in Virginia’s wake, Jack risked squeezing Pixie’s elbow in the hope of soothing her. By the way her hands fluttered about without purpose, she was anxious. She had no cause to be nervous. She would win society over with no trouble. All she needed to do was smile and be herself. It might be vain to think it, but his presence beside her would do the rest. Jack’s friends were never snubbed.

Arriving on his arm to her first London ball would make society take notice. She would be considered, at first, as a potential future marchioness. Society was keen to see him conquered, but he had a plan for that. He wouldn’t dance with her and after tonight, he would keep his hands to himself.

He chose not to think overlong on the other matter—her plan to hunt for a husband. Self-torture had never been a favorite activity.

As Jack nodded to acquaintances, he trembled like a tuning fork. It was damned distracting. Pixie drifted beside him, her hand a light pressure on his arm. His senses spun. He barely produced an acceptable greeting to their hosts. He hoped his reputation as a cold-hearted aristocrat disguised his distraction.

Pixie’s hand trembled.

Hoping to settle her, Jack leaned closer. “I’m glad to see you’re wearing my gift.”

~ * ~

Constance swayed as Jack’s words permeated her panicked mind. She couldn’t believe he would mention her acceptance of a gift where anyone could hear. And she hadn’t accepted it—it was a temporary loan. He would get it back as soon as she didn’t need it. He laid a gloved hand over hers and held her steady. The noise inside the ballroom was overwhelming, but his words had cut through her anxiety as swiftly as a hot knife through butter.

Jack was mean to tease. As soon as Constance got him alone, she was going to kick his shin so hard that he’d have to hop on one foot for a week of Sundays. Smug little smiles might make him appear younger, but they painfully reminded her that once upon a time he’d been her friend.

Constance glanced about the Huntley Ballroom, cooling her temper as she viewed Lady Huntley’s taste in décor. The high-vaulted chamber was only marginally less imposing than the entrance to Ettington House. Lady Huntley, who’d made her come-out with Constance’s mama, had smiled at her warmly, eyed her up and down, and probably recorded all the necessary details for the next month of letters.

The countess had purred when she had taken in Jack’s black clad figure beside Constance. Constance suspected it was a coup for a London hostess to have the marquess attend her function so early in the season. Lady Huntley smiled at him, made all the right noises, but Constance doubted Jack even heard half of them. Something told her he was not truly paying attention tonight.

Jack scanned the crowd around them but seemed to rarely acknowledge others. Constance did not really know him anymore, but she was grateful for his reassuring presence. The arm beneath hers flexed occasionally, causing tingles to shoot up her arm with every movement he made, but he didn’t glance her way again.

When they had made a circuit of the ballroom, a fine-boned blonde swayed back from her group of acquaintances, trying, it seemed, to attract her escort’s attention. The girl’s bouncing manner appeared urgent. Could this be his intended bride? Constance tried to lead Jack in that direction. Jack resisted her gentle tugs, leading her on an opposite course through the throng.

A few steps later, there was a parting of the guests. Across the room, a golden-haired Adonis smiled and then moved to join them.

Jack dropped her arm. “Daventry, didn’t expect to see you here so early. May I present Miss Constance Grange? Miss Grange, you have the rare privilege of an introduction to the Earl of Daventry. If you had fussed before your mirror any longer you might have missed meeting him altogether.”

Constance blushed and tried to ignore Jack’s accurate assumption of how she had spent her time before joining him. She let Lord Daventry take her hand. “Lord Daventry, it is a pleasure to meet you.” She recognized the name as one of her potential suitors.

“Hmm, you are Ettington’s ward from Sunderland, aren’t you?”

“Lady Orkney is a very great friend of mine,” Constance asserted, uncomfortable with the lie Jack wished to spread about her. He had paid for every item of apparel on her body, but there were limits on how large a brand she would bear.

The earl winked. “Oh, I like the fire in this one, Ettington. Good choice. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Miss Grange.”

He wasn’t a bad looking fellow, and he appeared to have an easy manner about him. Could she be so lucky as to find her spouse on her first night? Jack caught her eye and the scowl he sent made her tremble. She was fumbling for something to say when the earl cleared his throat.