Her aunt might have wished to protest, but he offered her no opportunity and simply took her arm and swept her off. The second she was gone, it was as if an oppressive weight lifted from Jacinda’s shoulders.
“He cannot care about her garden,” she whispered, shooting Isabel an apologetic look since she couldn’t give Seth the same.
Isabel laughed. “Not a whit, but he does care about giving you a nice evening without that witch haranguing you. He’ll get her a drink and deposit her with Lady Roseworth, who has promised to keep your aunt busy for the remainder of the night.”
Jacinda blinked. Lady Roseworth was an older woman in Society, one of the few of that generation who was anything better than openly hostile toward her.
Jacinda blinked as tears stung her eyes. She looked around her at the faces in the room. People were smiling at her. Really smiling.
“You shouldn’t have gone to this trouble,” she insisted, wishing her voice didn’t tremble. Wishing she was better practiced at covering her emotions as Grace was.
“It was no trouble,” Grace said, linking her arm with Jacinda’s.
Jacinda looked over the room again. “There are so many people—it can only be because of you two.”
Grace gave a sad shake of her head. “You sequester yourself away so often, my dear, I think you forget that out in the world there are more people who remember you fondly than you would guess. Every person in this room was happy to come, not for Isabel or for me, but because they wanted to wish you a happy birthday.”
“That is true. I certainly didn’t come for the purpose of appeasing either Lady Lyndham or the Duchess,” a masculine voice declared behind them.
Jacinda didn’t have to turn to look at the man that voice belonged to. She knew the sound of it very well indeed. But still she made the motion expected of her and caught her breath when her eyes fell on the Earl of Northfield.
“Jason,” she breathed despite herself, and he grinned.
While she had lamented the idea of being called handsome earlier in the night, there was only one adjective that would truly describe Jason, and that was beautiful. He had an angular face with a well-defined jawline that set the stage for full lips and the most striking bright blue eyes in the entire empire. Add that dark brown hair and his was a face women swooned over and dreamed of.
Jacinda had never swooned, but she could admit, at least to herself, that she had dreamed. And would dream of him again. She had resigned herself to that.
“Happy birthday, Jacinda,” he said softly as he took her hand and leaned toward her.
She tried very hard not to make a humiliating and highly unladylike squeak as his lips brushed, ever so lightly, across the top of her gloved hand. She felt the burn of his breath through the silk and into her skin. Her knees shook slightly at the touch.
“Thank you,” she choked out, desperate to maintain some decorum.
He smiled at Isabel and Grace. “And if your friends do not mind, will you allow me to claim the first dance with the guest of honor?”
She blinked. It would not be the first time she danced with Jason. He often bestowed his company upon her as an act of pity during these events. But tonight felt...different somehow.
Which was utterly foolish.
“I should greet my guests,” she said, looking at the crowd with hesitation.
He laughed. “They’ll wait.”
And he pulled her onto the dance floor without waiting for her to resist a second time.
Chapter Two
“The first step on an erotic journey is often the most difficult.”—The Ladies Book of Pleasures
Jason scanned the crowd, but his gaze seemed determined to return to the same place it had gone for the past hour. Jacinda.
She was standing with the Duchess of Jameswood, talking to a small group of party attendees. Her discomfort was entirely clear in both her posture and the fact that Grace had rested what was likely meant as a supportive hand against the small of Jacinda’s back.
She looked exceptionally fine tonight, despite the slightly unfashionable cut of her gown. One couldn’t argue with the color, though. The pale green made Jacinda’s chestnut locks brighten and brought out the golden highlights in her brown eyes. Of course, she or perhaps that awful aunt of hers had insisted on swathing the neckline of the dress in some kind of stiff, opaque lace, which meant she was covered entirely. A shame, really, since Jason had always believed that a hint of exposed skin had never hurt anyone.
He frowned at that wayward thought, partly because it involved Jacinda, who he normally tried to separate from his libertine impulses, and partly because he supposed exposed skin had been exactly what harmed Jacinda in the past.
“And just who are you watching so intently?”
Jason jerked his gaze from Jacinda and gave a false smile as Seth stepped up beside him.
“Just the crowd,” he lied.
Seth shook his head with a laugh. “Always on the hunt, old friend. Will you ever settle down?”
A familiar tightness filled Jason’s chest at the common question, even coming from his best friend. “You only want everyone else to follow you to the yoke,” he joked, though he heard the strain in his voice.
Seth’s smile widened as he found Isabel in the crowd. “I am very happy, thank you.”
Jason stared at Seth. Before Isabel, he had never thought his friend was lacking, but since their scandalous courtship and marriage, there had been a change in the marquis. And even Jason had to admit it was a positive one, despite his feelings on marriage as an institution.
“You are happy,” he admitted. “And I am happy for you, though I do think it is terribly unfair that because I am the last of our friends to marry, the pressure will now fall on me.”
“You should marry,” Seth said, his smiling turning to something more serious. “Find someone you can love, who will love you. It is the best thing in the world and you deserve no less.”
Jason gripped his hands at his sides. Seth didn’t understand his hesitation when it came to anything but temporary pleasure with a woman. The marquis had been his best friend for almost two decades, but there were still some secrets Jason would keep. Secrets he had never told anyone except... His gaze flitted to Jacinda again, but before he had to come up with a flippant response, the men were interrupted by the approach of the Duke of Carnthorn.
“Good evening, gentlemen,” he drawled as he inserted himself into the conversation.
Seth greeted him properly, but Jason gave him only the barest of nods. He didn’t like the duke; he never had. And since he knew Seth and Isabel had only invited those close to Jacinda tonight, he also found himself wondering what connection the man had to her.
“A fine party, and Miss Jacinda seems to be enjoying herself,” the duke said as he sipped his drink.
Jason pursed his lips as he glanced at Jacinda yet again. She was smiling as she chatted with those around her, but he could see more tension than pleasure to her posture. He didn’t relish that fact, but he did like that the duke couldn’t see it, which meant he was not in any way truly connected to her.
“How do you know Miss Downing?” Jason asked.
Carnthorn looked at him in surprise. “I actually know her very little,” he admitted.
“And here I thought it was a party for her intimates,” Jason muttered.
Immediately he wished he could take it back, partly because it was a peevish thing to say and partly because the term intimates could have two meanings when it came to Jacinda. In his haste to put down a man he didn’t like, he had reminded this interloper of her past.
Seth shot Jason a confused glare and rushed to repair the damage of his rudeness. “Carnthorn is chaperoning Lady Roseworth, who is a great friend to Jacinda.”
Jason resisted the urge to draw back at this news and instead drawled, “I didn’t know an eighty-year-old widow required a chaperone.”
If Carnthorn recognized Jason’s animosity, he didn’t acknowle
dge it. Instead he laughed, which turned the heads of several female attendees in the room who were drawn in by his handsomeness and didn’t suspect what Jason knew to be his true nature.
“Lady Roseworth is a distant great-cousin,” he explained. “And we take turns escorting her to events in case she requires assistance.”
“A drab duty,” Jason said, ignoring the elbow Seth put into his side for his rude, flat tone.
“Normally, perhaps,” Carnthorn said, but then he glanced over toward Jacinda. “But tonight it has been less so. Miss Downing comes out so rarely since her—” He cut himself off with a quick, appraising glance to his companions. “Well, I had forgotten that she is actually quite a fine-looking girl, isn’t she?”
Jason gripped his fists at his sides. “And what would your wife think of that appraisal, Your Grace?”
Now a tiny bit of the friendly façade Carnthorn put on slipped, and he glared at Jason.
“Ah, Carnthorn, I believe your charge may require your attention,” Seth said, motioning toward Lady Roseworth, who was waving ever so slightly toward her cousin.
Carnthorn’s nose wrinkled, revealing his distaste for this chore after all, then he returned his attention to Jason and Seth. “Lord Lyndham,” he said with a slight nod. He turned a colder gaze to Jason. “Northfield.”
Then he spun on his heel, his false smile back in place for his charge for the evening. Once he was out of earshot, Seth elbowed Jason again.
“What is wrong with you?” he snapped.
Jason rubbed his side. “Aside from broken ribs?”
“I’m not joking,” Seth said, his scowl deep. “What is the point of exhibiting so much animosity toward Carnthorn?”
Jason’s eyes went wide. “Are you in jest? The man is a cad and he’s left a string of broken mistresses behind him. His proclivities for violence and force are well known amongst women of a certain ilk. I hate that he is even allowed into quality society, let alone around Jacinda, who I consider a friend.”
Seth blinked. “First, I didn’t realize you felt so strongly about Jacinda.”
Jason blinked. “I-I don’t feel strongly—”
Seth interrupted. “And I agree that the man has reprehensible habits, but that isn’t exactly common knowledge, so what would you have me do? Lock out Lady Roseworth, one of Jacinda’s few friends, because of him? And what excuse would I give to her?”
Jason folded his arms. “No, of course not. I simply do not like the idea that Jacinda would catch his attention.”
“All he said was that she looked very fine tonight, which is an innocent enough observation, even coming from him. And do you truly think that Jacinda is his type?” Seth sighed. “Now I see Isabel motioning for us. She and Grace have cooked up some scheme involving gifts, so I must see if it is that time.”
His friend turned on his heel and left Jason alone, but Seth’s words had not soothed him. Unlike his friend, Jason was more of a libertine. And he knew when it came to men like Carnthorn, there wasn’t such a thing as “type” where certain obsessions were concerned.
Jacinda glanced over her shoulder toward the ballroom she was being led from.
“Are you positive?” she said, looking at Grace and Isabel. “I think it might be considered rude to leave in the middle of your own party.”
Of course, she welcomed the brief reprieve, but she wouldn’t say that and hurt Isabel and Grace’s feelings.
Grace rolled her eyes. “Oh, Jacinda! You worry too much about the rules.”
Isabel glared at the duchess and slipped her arm through Jacinda’s. “It will only be for a few moments, my dear. And Seth will entertain the room and be certain no one notices our brief absence.”
Jacinda pushed away maudlin thoughts on the topic that no one would likely note her absence one way or another and simply allowed her friends to take her into a parlor. Inside, a small table had been set between three chairs, and a pile of gifts had been set there.
Jacinda’s heart swelled as she looked at the offerings. “Oh my.”
Isabel drew her forward and urged her to take a seat. “I realize you would normally take these home and open them there, and the gifts which others in the party brought are now in the foyer for you to do just that. But we wanted you to open ours here so that we could see you.”
“And also so that your wretched aunt will not have a chance to ruin all your birthday gifts,” Grace added before she pinched her lips in obvious displeasure.
Jacinda smiled. “You steal all the joy of tormenting me from Aunt Cordelia’s life, and I love you both for it.”
Her friends laughed, and then Grace picked up the first package. “This one is from Isabel.”
As Isabel took a seat, Jacinda carefully opened the pretty wrapping paper. She breathed in a gasp at the beautiful leather journal within.
“Oh, Isabel!”
Her friend smiled. “For you to write your thoughts.”
“Or your fantasies,” Grace teased.
Jacinda stroked the soft cover gently. “I don’t have those anymore,” she said absently and thought she saw her friends exchange a frown. She ignored it, unwilling to spoil the moment. “I shall use it well and hide it beneath my mattress so Aunt Cordelia will not intrude upon it.”
Grace continued to hand her gifts, some from Isabel, some from the duchess herself. Jacinda opened them one by one, gasping over a pretty costume ring from Grace, a handkerchief Isabel had hand-stitched, a volume of poetry from Grace. She finally blinked back tears, overwhelmed by the generosity of her two best friends.
“You are too kind to me,” she murmured, using the new handkerchief for the first time to dab at tears.
“You deserve kindness,” Isabel said as she rose. “I will have one of the servants put these in a satchel and place them in your carriage with the other gifts so you do not forget them.”
“But there is one more,” Grace said, lifting a final parcel, this one wrapped in different paper than any of the others. “From you, Isabel?”
Isabel shook her head as she quickly glanced at the pile of items in front of Jacinda. “No, everything I had for Jacinda was already opened. It isn’t from you?”
“No.” Grace looked at the tag attached to the gift. “It simply says ‘from a friend’. Do you think someone confused it with ours and set it here?”
Isabel shook her head. “I was very clear in my direction to the servants. I don’t know how another guest could have been confused. And why would they not put their name on the package?”
Jacinda held out a hand, as fascinated by the mystery as her friends were. “Let me open it and perhaps this will be solved by the gift’s contents.”
Isabel nodded as Grace handed the package over. “Judging from the shape, it looks like a book. There may be an inscription that will reveal the giver.”
Jacinda slid a finger beneath the fine paper and opened it. As the packaging fell away, she stared. It was indeed a book that the “friend” had left for her, but not a book she had ever expected to see, let alone receive. It was a book bound in a fine but very plain blue cover. Engraved in gold foil was the title.
The Ladies Book of Pleasures, By an Anonymous Lady
Jacinda released the book as if it had burned her, and it fell to the floor with a clatter. She stared at it, the title gleaming up at her in the firelight. Mocking her.
“Oh my,” Grace said, retrieving the tome without any of the embarrassment that now flooded Jacinda’s cheeks.
Isabel smiled broadly as she looked at it too. Of course she would. Her friend had told Jacinda in confidence that the scandalous book had played an important part in how she and Seth had come to fall in love and marry.
But Jacinda took none of the pleasure her friends did in seeing it. She struggled to form words.
“Which one of you did this?” she demanded.
Both Grace and Isabel stopped looking at the book and stared at her in concern at her breathless, pained tone.
“Neither
of us,” Isabel reassured her, reaching out to touch her arm. “You are pale, Jacinda—please breathe.”
Grace flipped through the book quickly. “There isn’t an inscription, either.” The duchess held the book out, but Jacinda wouldn’t take it. “Jacinda, you mustn’t be upset.”
“Mustn’t I?” she repeated, her fingers clenching uncontrollably. “I think it is perfectly acceptable to respond in such a way to a cruel joke.”
Isabel’s lips parted. “Dearest, there are only friends here at this party. No one would play a joke on you. I’m certain whoever gave this to you meant it kindly. The book is scandalous, yes, but it is all the rage. The whole of Society is secretly giving it, receiving it or buying it, and everyone is reading it.”
Grace held out the book again and Jacinda forced herself to take it, staring at the plain cover with both anxiety and titillation.
It was the second reaction she hated most. Had she learned nothing?
“Isabel must be right about the person who left you this. No one here would be so cruel,” Grace said, moving to place a warm hand on Jacinda’s trembling arm.
Jacinda met Grace’s blue eyes slowly. “So you do not think it was a statement on my scandalous past, a way to remind me what I’m thought of in Society, no matter how many years have passed since the Incident or how I’ve sequestered myself?”
The duchess’s eyes widened, filling with pain that Jacinda knew was for her. “I couldn’t imagine that a friend would think that of you. Or torture you in such a way on your birthday. If they thought you felt that way, I’m certain they would apologize sincerely.”
Jacinda kept her gaze on Grace. The duchess was a keen observer of those around her and she was also very honest. If she said that the book was likely a gift kindly meant, Jacinda had to believe her.
“What about you, Isabel? What are your thoughts?” she asked without looking away from the book.
“I’m sure Grace is correct,” the marchioness said softly. “And I think you should keep it and…and I think you should read it.”
A Moment of Passion (The Ladies Book of Pleasures) Page 2
