“Many of those gentlemen are younger than I am,” Dovermere said, his tone eerily recognizable, though with less of an edge than that of his son’s.
“Well, that makes all the difference.” Piper turned her head to make a comical face before addressing her father once more. “I should amend my declaration by describing the lot of you as stately.”
“Hmm . . . ”
“Distinguished?”
“Better,” the earl said with a nod. “Now, behave yourself and introduce your friend, or I shall demand reimbursement from your decorum instructor.”
“Do forgive my father, Miss Appleton. I have heard that a man’s memory starts to fail him when he reaches a certain age,” she said in a stage whisper, cupping her hand next to her mouth. Then to her father, she added, “This is Lilah Appleton. We met her at Vale’s Christmas party.”
“Miss Appleton, a pleasure.” He inclined his head. “I recall our introduction perfectly now. Lady Cosgrove is your aunt, and Lady Granworth is your cousin.” Then he lifted his eyebrows in a familiarly challenging way to Piper, earning a small laugh.
“It is a pleasure to meet you again, Lord Dovermere.” Lilah dipped into a curtsy.
When she rose, however, she caught sight of an unmistakable pair of broad shoulders and blond head at the opposite end of the room. Her breath caught.
Jack Marlowe was striding through the massive doors of the hall. He looked dashing in his black evening attire and snowy cravat, his hair brushed back from his forehead to reveal those chiseled features. Her lips tingled at the memory of his mouth on hers. Then, when his gaze met hers and he grinned, a warm ache filled her, making her long for another stolen moment in the garden . . . or anywhere. She just wanted to be in his arms again.
It wasn’t until Lilah heard Piper speaking to her father about a dinner party and adding Lilah to the guest list that she realized calamity was about to ensue.
From their position near the fronds of the potted palm trees, it was likely that Jack couldn’t see those with whom she stood. Even if she were determined to risk rudeness, there wouldn’t be time for her to abandon her party in order to intercept Jack before it was too late.
To him, she offered a discreet shake of her head in warning. But with his long strides, he was already to her.
“Miss Appleton,” he began, in his typical fashion of focusing solely on her without paying attention to those around her. “You are indeed looking lovely this evening, as promised.”
It was up to her to warn him, but when she saw the heat in his gaze, every sensible thought vanished. She blushed and tried to think of a bland response. Tried to pretend that she had no idea what it felt like to have his tongue in her mouth and that she wasn’t thinking about that right this moment. “Mr. Marlowe, you flatter me. At the moment, however—”
“Jack!” Piper said with a burst of enthusiasm, stepping into view. She reached out and gave a brief squeeze to his forearm, much the same way she had with her father. “How wonderful that you are here! The last time Father and I dropped in on you, you declared never to attend a societal function, but now, here you are.”
Jack stiffened, his easy manner turning to granite. “Piper.” He inclined his head. “Dovermere.”
“How fortunate that our earlier engagement ended, and we were able to attend this party,” Dovermere began, clearly having noticed Jack’s reaction. “And what a coincidence that you are acquainted with Miss Appleton. Piper was just testing my memory. Now, I seem to recall that Miss Appleton is particular friend of Vale’s new bride. Is that correct, Miss Appleton?”
“I am, my lord,” Lilah affirmed, not understanding the knowing, smug grin Dovermere passed to Jack, nor the glower Jack passed back to his father. Well, perhaps she understood the glower. Nevertheless, all at once the entire hall had gone silent. Even those in the gallery paused to cast discreet glances over their shoulders.
“Miss Appleton, did you know that Jack and Vale met at Eton and that the two of them competed for highest marks?” The pride in Dovermere’s voice and in his expression was unmistakable.
Even so, she swallowed, nervous that the remark was made in such a nonchalant fashion. It was almost as if Dovermere suspected that she and Jack were more than casually acquainted. Then again, her rush of nerves could simply be her worrying self catching up with her.
“I did not, my lord, though it is easy to imagine.” It was only when Dovermere’s gaze sharpened that she realized what she’d said. To compliment a gentleman in the presence of his family was to indicate interest or a reciprocation thereof. “That is to say . . . he appears to be a competent individual, though I have no way of knowing.”
Oh, but those words weren’t any better. Now, because of their association, it sounded as if she meant to slight Jack, effectively labeling him a simpleton.
Jack shifted beside her, a nearly imperceptible movement of his shoe on the polished floor, but she guessed he wasn’t pleased. She could sense the tension rolling off him. Yet when she chanced a sideways glance, his expression surprised her. He was smirking at her. It was a small lift of one corner of his incredibly talented mouth, but it was still a smirk all the same. Knowing him, he was enjoying watching her discomfort.
“Appearances are often misleading, Miss Appleton,” Jack said, his gaze dipping to her lips for one hot second. How dare he make her blush again and leave her no way to scold him for it!
“A circumstance only remedied upon further acquaintance,” the earl interjected. “Surely you would consider that an accurate statement, Jack?”
In turn, Jack’s nod was more of wariness than agreement. Even Lilah felt a sense of apprehension. Piper, however, nodded vigorously, as if she knew exactly what was about to be said.
“Good. Then it is settled. You will both attend the dinner party that Gayle has arranged. Four days should give you ample time to come up with a plausible excuse for your absence, Jack.” Dovermere’s words were said more in challenge than invitation. Yet because his fondness was clearly evident, Lilah nearly found herself hoping that this method worked in his favor.
Piper chimed in, turning her full attention to her half-brother. “But you wouldn’t do that to us again, would you? After all, it will only be a dinner and then a small gathering in the music room for entertainment. I play the pianoforte, and I should like you to hear it.”
While there were definite similarities between father and son, there was also a measure of hardness in the latter that was missing in the former. Which made it all the more startling when Jack’s stiffness suddenly left him.
He lifted his brows, glancing at Lilah before responding to Piper. “By any chance, would you happen to have a harp?”
After an hour had passed, Jack wasn’t sure why he was still at the Corbett Ball. It helped, he supposed, that Dovermere had kept a discreet distance after their initial encounter. However, that did not stop the constant curious glances from the guests in his direction, the whispers behind fans, or even the blatant comments made within earshot.
Jack had learned a lot about people in his life and his business dealings. Even when he was a boy, he’d realized that people were all the same. At one point or another, they either wanted to buy something or sell something. They wanted to believe they weren’t paying too much for what they wanted or receiving too little for what they were parting with. And most of all, both buyer and seller wanted to believe they were in complete control of any negotiation.
Jack could say the same for the people in this room. After all, wasn’t this party just an elaborate venue to negotiate marriages? The debutantes and their chaperones were the sellers, and the unmarried gentlemen the buyers. Lilah was here for the same purpose. She was the commodity on display, eager for Lord Ellery’s attentions, while Lady Cosgrove and Lady Granworth were here to oversee the transaction.
Jack was the only one present who was neither buying nor selling. Although, perhaps he too wanted to ensure that Lilah received the best offer and did not give
up too much in return.
Yet that did not explain his primitive urge to storm through the line of dancers and haul her off with him. He would take her by the hand, of course. But he wasn’t above throwing her over his shoulder either. Besides, anyone could tell by the paleness of her complexion that she wasn’t enjoying herself.
“I see you’ve donned the same expression as your friend this evening,” Juliet Granworth said, sidling up to Jack, her hands clasped before her as she watched the procession of dancers. “Max took his glower into the card room. You, on the other hand, appear contented to cast yours upon the dancers. Do you dislike the amusement so greatly?”
“I neither like nor dislike it.” But if Markham didn’t stop ogling Lilah’s décolletage, Jack would have to rip out his eyes, one at a time, and cram them down his throat.
“That makes me wonder, then, why you are here at all.” Juliet remained as she was, perfectly poised and appearing as if standing beside him was a matter of happenstance. “There are whispers abounding that you came to reconcile with your father.”
“Until I arrived, I had believed Dovermere was engaged elsewhere. Otherwise, I would not have come.” Jack tasted a lie upon his tongue. He suddenly wondered whether Dovermere’s presence would have influenced his decision in the end. Knowing that Lilah was going to be here had been all the persuasion he’d needed. “Or rather, I would have had second thoughts about attending.”
“That is quite the alteration from what I’ve learned from Mrs. Harwick. She said that you unequivocally refuse to be in his company.”
It was true. When he’d first arrived, Jack had been tempted to walk away without a word and never look back. The entire tableau had been altogether too cozy for his tastes—Dovermere standing in a public forum with his eldest daughter and his bastard son, as if everything was bright and gay. As if the entirety of Jack’s struggles to survive as a boy had never happened. As if Dovermere had never abandoned Jack’s mother in favor of society and aristocratic expectation.
“I am not one to turn on my heel like a coward,” he said, the words gritty in his throat.
For a moment, Juliet was silent. Her lack of response left him with the hope that he’d satisfied her questions. Unfortunately, such was not the case, because she continued.
“Yet until now, you never have attended a ball, regardless of the company.”
“Not true,” he said, evading her question and her insinuation that there was another reason he was here. “In school, we were obligated to attend two similar events per annum.” Likely, it had been the schoolmaster’s only way to validate the torture of dancing lessons.
“You are missing my point,” she said, exhaling a sound of frustration.
No, he understood her perfectly. Turning his head, he offered a smile of reassurance. “You have also heard that I spoke with Miss Appleton, and while in Dovermere’s presence, no less. I have heard the gossips nattering away all evening, the speculation, the intrigue . . . but know this—I would do nothing to hinder her efforts. I know what is at stake for her all too well.”
Juliet scrutinized him, her blue eyes sharp. “You have offered no direct answer to any of my queries.”
“Haven’t I?” He chose not to laugh when her gaze narrowed.
“I can see why you and Max are friends, and that is no compliment to you, sir,” she said, though lessened her censure by adding a wry grin and a shake of her head. “I know the ton still calls me the Goddess—and some even, Hollow Goddess—believing that I am nothing more than pretty wrapping over an empty package, but I’m rather fierce when I need to be, and I protect those for whom I care the most.”
Jack was actually relieved by this. Knowing that Lilah would be looked after, even when he couldn’t, smoothed the frayed edges of this newfound disquiet. “A trait we have in common.”
“Then we have an understanding?”
“We do.” He inclined his head.
With no more apparent concerns, Juliet slipped away into the crowd, just as the set finished. Markham delivered Lilah to her, bowed, and then left. From the corner of the room, Lilah’s gaze skimmed the crowd, searching, until it settled on him. There was a certain frailty in her expression, making him want to go to her. Before he could, however, her cousin drew her away, and they walked together toward a hallway leading off the main ballroom.
“I should have wagered on you, Marlowe,” Thayne said with undisguised bitterness as he stood in the same place that Juliet had vacated a moment ago. “The gossips are all atwitter on your sudden forays into society. Hell, I even saw one young buck finger-comb his hair straight back and then tell his friend that he was in the style of Marlowe.”
Jack laughed. “What do you expect me to do about it? These idiots are your people. I cannot control their level of foolishness.”
“Damn it all, you could have warned me.” Thayne lifted his glass to his lips, only to find it empty. He muttered a curse and dropped his hand to his side. “You know what is at stake.”
“A house.” Jack shrugged. “You have others. Surely it would matter little if you kept this one in particular.”
“You know better than anyone that it’s about more than a house,” he said with quiet vehemence.
Yes, Jack knew, and he’d promised Thayne more than five years ago that he would keep those reasons a secret. “I’m not here to undermine your efforts with Wolford.”
“Then why would you be here, if not for the wager?”
Jack couldn’t answer that—or rather, wouldn’t answer that. “Perhaps I thought it was time I saw what all this fuss and frippery was about.”
“I hope that is true, old friend, because—” Thayne broke off. Then, before he turned toward the terrace doors, said, “I need a breath of air.”
In that moment, Jack knew that Lady Granworth had returned. Automatically, his gaze sought Lilah. Yet when she was not beside her cousin or her aunt, a measure of alarm shot through him. He waited, milling about the crowd, lingering on the outer seam. He spotted Piper and Dovermere, but Lilah was not there either. Then, when the musicians were beginning to return to the gallery above, Jack went to find her.
The hallway where she’d first disappeared was virtually empty, with most of the guests waiting in the ballroom. A pair of debutantes exited a room, giggling and blushing when they saw him. Many of the other doors in the hall were open, the rooms dark. Yet the door from where they’d appeared was closed, the glow of candlelight coming out from beneath it.
Supposing that this was the retiring room for the ladies, he waited in the shadows in case anyone else appeared. No one came, and he could hear the musicians tuning their instruments. Taking a chance, he rapped his knuckles quietly against the door. “Lilah?”
A familiar gasp was his answer, and he felt a measure of relief. At least he knew where she was, but he didn’t know the reason she was still here—and without her aunt. Because of that, his sense of alarm would not dissipate.
In the next moment, the door opened a crack but not enough for him to see her clearly. “You cannot call to me through the door and use my Christian name,” Lilah hissed. “You are not even allowed in this corridor. It is designated for women.”
“You disappeared from the ballroom during the last set. I wanted to be certain you were not taken ill,” he explained, the excuse sounding perfectly reasonable to his own ears.
“Even if I were at death’s door, you would not be permitted in this—”
He opened the door. Taking the room in at a glance to ensure that she was the only occupant, he drew closer. Lifting his hand to her face, he angled it toward the light from the sconces. Her face was cold, a stark-white oval broken only by her dark eyes and brows. She looked haunted instead of like a young woman who was having a night she’d always hoped she would. “You are pale. Tell me—did that cad Markham say anything to upset you? If he did anything to you . . . ”
His words trailed off when she laughed at him. “Such a fearsome warrior, even when you�
�re not on your Destrier. Somehow, I knew this about you from our first meeting. How terrible it must be for someone of your nature to be in between battles. No wars to fight. No enemies to slay.”
Her words kindled a warmth inside of him that helped to soothe his anxiety. She must feel well enough to tease him. And surprisingly, she understood his nature. Then again, perhaps it wasn’t too much of a surprise, considering he felt as if he knew her too. Well enough to know that she was warrior as well, brave and loyal to a fault. That didn’t mean, however, that she didn’t need someone to watch over her. And he—a warrior in between battles—needed an occupation.
“You forgot to mention women to capture and then carry off as the spoils of war.” He shifted closer in the narrow doorway. His gaze dipped to her mouth just as color began to bloom. His lapels brushed the edge of her bodice, reminding him of the ruffles of her night rail and how it had felt to have her body against his. It took all of his control not to put his hands on her and continue where they’d left off. “Now tell me, why are you hiding in here?”
“I am not—” She stopped when he arched his brows in disbelief. “Very well. I am hiding, but only because I promised Lord Ellery the quadrille.”
“And you don’t want to dance with him?” A light sensation of pleasure filled him. Perhaps she hadn’t truly set her cap for Ellery after all.
Lilah shook her head. “It is that I want to dance with him, very much indeed.”
That light sensation swiftly turned into a scuttle of coal, dark and weighted. Jack shifted back a step. “Then what is preventing you?”
“There is so much at stake,” she said, her voice trembling. “There were rumors tonight regarding Haggerty and me. Knowing that I am so close to failing fills me with a sense of desperation that churns in my stomach. I am all too aware that I need to make a favorable impression on Ellery. I need to say something that will entice him to call upon me or perhaps offer to take me for a drive through the park. Yet I can think of nothing to say. My mind has gone . . . vacant.”
The Debutante Is Mine Page 12
