Neither Josie nor Theo would meet her glare as they moved about her chambers, collecting their belongings. Georgie rested her hands on her hips, her smug grin remaining in place.
Adeline wanted to yell, throw her hands wide, and stomp her slipper-clad foot. But she suspected her irritation would only incite their further scrutiny regarding the connection between her and Jasper. She did not want any attention focused on the pair of them, especially during the ball to come, as Adeline hoped to find a few moments of privacy with Jasper before he returned to Faversham Abbey—and disappeared from her life.
Thankfully, Poppy tapped lightly on the door, rescuing Adeline from any further inquisition. “Lady Melton, Miss Adeline, m’lord be request’n your presence and assistance with greet’n the guests.”
“We will be right out.” Theo straightened her gown and checked her hair in the mirror, each woman following suit. “Shall we, ladies?”
Chapter 21
Jasper took a single—albeit small—step forward.
Any progress is progress, he reminded himself.
And after waiting in the long line of carriages outside the Melton townhouse to be deposited in the drive, the receiving line was not nearly as daunting in its length. As far as he’d noticed, he was the only gentleman to arrive unattended, without a woman on his arm or friends at his side. Jasper recognized he lived a modest lifestyle in Kent; however, he could not comprehend how any one person—or even family—was acquainted with so many people.
Undoubtedly, every member of society had been invited…and arrived at the same moment to celebrate Adeline’s birthday.
How had he completely missed her station in the ton?
Every man of marriageable age who was not already wedded or betrothed stood in line before and after him, with likely much more already in the ballroom.
Jasper pulled at the sleeve of his finely pressed shirt and adjusted his cravat. Bloody hell but he appeared the strutting peacock, a confirmed London dandy, in the coat and trousers he’d been given, with the iridescent, pale blue neckcloth tied precariously about his neck. The thing should be black, not a blue that seemed to change color with the lighting. The hue was one he’d never seen before and certainly not something he would ever don again—nor the rest of his garb. It was all rather wasteful, though Jasper was loath to admit his change of heart after ordering a completely new wardrobe from Lord Melton’s tailor.
The funds would have been better spent on restoring the east wing of the Abbey or adding a new warehouse at the plant.
He moved forward once more, this time three paces.
Jasper noticed a familiar face not far off, the butler who’d greeted Adeline the previous day…and he had a tray of tall flutes.
When Jasper nodded in the man’s direction, he hurried over and inclined his head. “Lord Ailesbury. Lord and Lady Melton are happy to have you present for Miss Adeline’s celebration. Refreshment?”
“Thank you,” Jasper said, relieving the man of a glass. “I thought this was to be a small gathering.”
“Oh, yes, my lord.” The butler’s head bobbed up and down. “Only two hundred invitations were hand-delivered to the most deserving households in London and the bordering countryside.” He paused as if remembering something. “You, Lord Ailesbury, made two hundred and one.”
From the servant’s widened eyes, Jasper suspected his complexion had turned a rare shade of green. Two hundred invitations, multiplied by several family members in each household…that must be…
“Five hundred and fifty-three, errr, fifty-four, guests,” the butler said, supplying the number Jasper was too dumbfounded to compute on his own.
“And that is a small number?”
“Certainly, my lord.” The butler nodded as the group of men behind him each took a flute from his tray. “Lady Melton found it necessary to eliminate over one hundred and fifty guests.”
“And Lord and Lady Melton are familiar with all these people?” Jasper had never felt so insignificant in his entire existence. The villagers rarely allowed him to forget that they were keeping watch over him. “That is rather difficult to believe, or perhaps I am simply unfamiliar with town ways.”
“You will grow accustomed to the extravagant nature of London, my lord.” With a reassuring smile, the butler moved down the line and nodded as guests took refreshments from his tray.
Whatever did the man mean by his comment that Jasper would grow accustomed to London?
He was counting down the hours until he was on his way back to Faversham Abbey and away from the senseless, absurd, and excessive ways of town life. He breathed deeply, picturing the simple life he led in Kent: his estate, his business, and his people, regardless if they denied him as their provider and beneficiary or not.
Taking another step forward, Jasper glanced over the shoulder of the woman in front of him to see that he was nearly to the ballroom doors, though he was still unable to gain sight of Lord and Lady Melton where they greeted guests. Every once in a while, the deep chords of Melton’s voice carried out of the grand ballroom.
Jasper must have gotten a fraction too close, for the woman turned around, her eyes narrowing before widening—in surprised alarm?—as a smile settled on her lips. She took in his height and seemed to appreciate his neckcloth before her stare halted at his cheek and his burns traveling lower into his shirt. The woman’s welcoming smile turned to a frown, and she pivoted back around, taking a step closer to her escort for the evening.
Swinging his gaze back to the door behind him, Jasper noted the young woman who’d sought Adeline’s attention in the park before turning sharply and quickly scurrying away.
He smiled and nodded when he caught her eye. Despite his civility, the lady turned toward the couple she stood with—from the matching hair color and stature, her parents—and laughed as if she’d been part of their conversation the entire time.
The cut direct—or indirect, as it were.
His stomach clenched, and his breath froze in his chest as disbelief and disappointment coursed through him. Why had he thought London would be any different than Kent?
And bloody hell, why did it bother him? The villagers avoided him as if he carried the plague. It appeared those in the ton could spot a pariah as well as any country dweller.
Pivoting forward once more, Jasper took several steps and entered the ballroom.
Another servant stepped forward, relieving him of his flute.
He need only make it through the next hour or so, wish Adeline the best, greet her family and friends, and finally take his leave…from the ball and London altogether.
It should not be overly difficult.
Jasper had seen difficult, witnessed it firsthand, lived with it nearly his entire life.
A crowded London ballroom filled to bursting with the haughty beau monde was not enough to send him cowering and scurrying home, his proverbial tail between his legs.
“Lord Ailesbury,” Lady Melton called as he arrived at the front of the line. “We are pleased you came.”
Jasper bowed to his host and hostess. “Good evening Lady Melton, Lord Melton. I am honored to be present to celebrate Miss Adeline’s birthday.”
His attention remained on Lady Melton, not daring to glance farther down the line. Would Adeline be waiting to greet him, or had she already taken to the dance floor? Even the thought of her in another man’s arms had his cravat closing off his airway.
Next, he greeted a tall, stately woman with hair the same hue as Adeline’s but lacking the shine and luster of the younger woman’s curls.
“Lord Ailesbury.” His name was exhaled on a raspy sigh. “I was beginning to wonder if you’d become lost on the London streets.”
Jasper swung his stare farther down the line, past two young men and a girl who looked fresh from the schoolroom, until he spotted Adeline.
It took everything in his power not to push the couple in front of him out of the way to get to her, to take her proffered gloved hand and pres
s his lips to the delicate spot at her wrist. If he closed his eyes, he could envision her as she’d been at Faversham: hair wild and loose from their breakneck ride across the meadow, her skin damp from the rain, and her eyes…alive from the thrill of it all.
This Adeline, the one standing several feet away, was nearly unrecognizable.
Her hair was loose and artfully arranged over her shoulder and down her back, but nothing else was the woman he’d come to love—love?—while in the country. This woman was everything a lady of the ton should be: poised, dignified, reserved, and shining in all her splendor.
For a moment, Jasper wondered how she hid the woman she truly was under all these grandiose adornments, but then the thought struck him, nearly knocking him back a step. Perhaps this was the true Adeline, and the woman he’d come to know in the country was merely the mask she wore to fool him.
He would not believe it, could not believe it.
There was no doubt in Jasper’s mind that Adeline belonged here. Not in this ballroom per se, but here in London, surrounded by the streaming light from the overhead chandeliers, dining in grand homes, dancing long into the night, attending the latest performance at Covent Garden, and, at the end of the night, returning to her home with a lord who loved her, cherished her, and gave his every waking thought to her happiness and well-being. Adeline would be the center of attention at every social gathering for years to come, and damn it all if Jasper would be the man to distract from her beauty, her wit, and her charm.
At the park—and in the receiving line—he’d garnered attention he didn’t want. With Adeline at his side, even for just this one night, would others look past his scars to the worthy woman on his arm?
The couple blocking his path to Adeline blessedly moved off and into the ballroom, clearing Jasper’s way to stand before Adeline.
His breath hitched at the sight of her, and a peculiar flutter assaulted his stomach.
The woman was dressed in a gown matching the exact hue of his neckcloth, and damn it if it did not shimmer in the light from above.
Jasper dared a glance over his shoulder, and Lady Melton’s innocent grin told him everything he needed to know.
His new tailor had been compromised. His loyalty purchased by a meddling viscountess.
It should irritate Jasper; however, confusion was the emotion that filled him. Why would Lady Melton seek to make it appear as if Adeline and he were a matched pair?
His shoulders stiffened, and the smile drained from his face. Would Adeline be angry? She could not think he had aught to do with the coincidence of their matching garb.
The gentleman behind Jasper cleared his throat, properly indicating that he was slowing down the line.
He need greet Adeline, and then he could escape to a quiet corner of the ballroom to think through the predicament he’d been forced into.
“Miss Adeline, it is lovely to see you again and a very merry birthday to you.” He took her offered hand and bowed over it, not trusting himself to bring his lips to her gloved fingers. “Thank you for the invitation.”
There. He’d met social requirements and could now sulk off, perhaps hide himself behind one of the potted ferns lining the fabric-draped walls.
“You look dashing this evening, my lord.” Her deep, sultry voice held him captive. “I must say, the ladies will be falling all over themselves for an introduction to the darkly handsome and captivating Lord Ailesbury. I can only imagine what they’d wager for one dance.”
“It is only you, Miss Adeline, I wish to dance with this eve,” he countered. Where in the bloody hell had that come from? Certainly, he’d been thinking it, but to say it out loud was highly improper. “What I mean to say, Miss Adeline, is I do hope you will save a place on your dance card for me.”
She held her wrist high, rotating the card to give Jasper a better view. “I have saved every spot for you, my lord.” Her brow rose in question. She was obviously enjoying their scandalous banter—and his unease. “In fact, as it is my special evening, I will take you up on one of those dances now.”
Without another word, she stepped from the line and set her hand in the crook of his elbow. He covered it with his own palm as if they had walked thusly a million times before.
A wave of her hand, and the musicians struck a new chord before settling into a rhythmic melody Jasper had heard his aunt hum from time to time.
A waltz, deemed indecent and scandalous only a few years prior, was now favored in many London ballrooms, or so he’d read in the London Daily Gazette his solicitor sent him every few weeks.
As they entered the dance floor, other pairs moved to join them, as Jasper pulled Adeline into his embrace and stared into her hazel eyes.
She was the beauty to his beast.
The elegant, refined maiden to his dastardly, dark scoundrel.
And he wanted all of her, though the reality of it was he might only have this one dance.
“You look ravishing, Miss Adeline,” Jasper leaned in close to whisper. A shiver coursed through her entire body, so strong he felt it. “I must say, you are certainly the belle of the ball.”
Her face flushed a deep scarlet, and Jasper chuckled lightly, pushing from his mind everything but that precise moment.
“I do believe my tailor and your modiste must have a fondness for one another.”
“Would you blame them if they did?” she asked, her enchanting smile returning as they increased their steps in time with the music. “Besides, I must admit, I was hesitant to don such a gown; however, I can see the color was selected because it suited you, my lord.”
“And what will others think about our coordinated attire?”
“Should we concern ourselves with what others think?” she countered.
“I am only thinking of you, Adeline.” He could not stop himself from uttering her given name, though it was the height of impropriety, especially surrounded by a roomful of people who would likely—and savagely—take hold of the morsel of gossip and spread it far and wide. “There are many worthy men in attendance this night, come to celebrate your special day. It would be greedy of me to keep you all to myself or cause gossip where none is warranted.”
A spark of disappointment flared in her eyes, but she covered it quickly by affecting yet another inviting upturn of her lips. “A little gossip never killed anyone. You should know that, Jasper.”
They twirled around the floor. Jasper was utterly lost in the moment with her, so enthralled he nearly collided with another couple as the music halted all too soon.
It was time he returned her to her family—and her line of suitors.
To his chagrin, she steered him away from her brother and mother where they’d completed their duties as the host family and were now conversing amongst one another.
“You are an accomplished dancer, Lord Ailesbury.”
“For nothing but a country squire?” He kept a respectable distance between them as he followed her lead around the fringes of the dance floor. “I will admit, I have not often danced with anyone besides my Aunt Alice and my housekeeper.”
“Well, your aunt certainly taught you well.”
A man stepped into their path, a tentative smile transforming his serious demeanor as he grew closer. Jasper had the urge to growl and walk straight through the man, continuing his conversation with Adeline; however, she slowed her pace to greet her guest.
“Good evening, Lord Cartwright.” Jealousy spiked when Adeline turned her bright smile on the man. “It is lovely to see you once again. May I introduce Lord Ailesbury from Kent?”
“A pleasure, I am certain,” Cartwright mumbled, sounding anything but pleasured to meet him. “I only wanted to give my well wishes for your birthday, Adeline. I must needs leave quickly.”
“I do understand, Lord Cartwright,” Adeline said, accepting the stiff embrace the man offered. “Your situation is certainly one to be cautious of.”
Jasper was uncertain what irritated him more: the man’s use of her give
n name, Adeline’s knowledge of his situation, or that Cartwright’s arms were presently touching her back.
“Lord Cartwright—Simon—is Theodora’s elder brother,” Adeline offered, doing nothing to dampen the jealousy at the man’s familiar relationship with her. “Simon, you will be quite interested in Lord Aliesbury’s endeavors in Faversham.” She turned an appreciative look in Jasper’s direction, settling his ire. “He bought the gunpowder plant after the war ended and employs a large number of the villagers.”
Cartwright’s brow rose. “I know very little about weapons of war, but I would be very interested in visiting your plant.”
“I am currently renovating an area of the building that collapsed during the recent storms, but when they are finished, I’d be happy to show you how things work.” Why, oh why, had he offered to escort Cartwright on a tour of Home Works? He knew exactly why. This man meant something to Adeline…and he was determined to find out what. “A wall recently gave way and injured one of my workers.”
“A wall, you say?” When Jasper nodded at Cartwright’s question, the man tapped his chin and closed his eyes, his brows moving up and down before his lids snapped open once more. “It would be my pleasure to work through the calculations and coordinate the measurements and weight requirements to better determine what would constitute a sound, load-bearing wall, as well as the appropriate thickness of the supporting beams to withstand future storms.”
Jasper stared at the man in wonder, partly because he was unaccustomed to such kindness from strangers, but more accurately because he could not fully understand the assistance Cartwright offered.
“It was certainly a pleasure, Lord Ailesbury, but my dear wife is waving frantically at me, and my situation may have suddenly escalated from cautious to dire.”
Jasper followed Adeline’s stare to see a tall, dark-haired woman, heavy with child, leaning against the refreshment table—one hand waving while the other cradled her swollen midsection.
Adeline (Lady Archer's Creed Book 3) Page 17