Hayden glared at Tristan as he weaved his way through the guests, and muttered, “Cad,” affectionately.
Jessica took a sip of her drink. She couldn’t believe she was at a respectable ball, with respectable company. It was probably best she didn’t join the gentlemen in the games room, even if she could trounce the lot of them at most card games.
Hayden turned to talk to someone next to him while Jessica focused on those mingling nearby. No one approached her, which she had expected. And with Tristan’s good mood having rubbed off on her, she wasn’t as bothered by their cutting glares.
“Can you believe she invited herself here?” Jessica heard women talking behind her. She turned slightly to see if she could identify them, but they were hidden behind a series of potted green leafy tropical trees that created a wall, likely dividing the ballroom from some sort of parlor.
“She arrived with the duke and the marquess,” a high-pitched voice said.
“The duke and marquess would have had an invite.”
“Alsborough most certainly,” came the nasal voice again. The woman sounded as though she was eighty. Who in the world could it be? Jessica stepped away from Hayden, hoping to catch a clear glimpse of the women through a break in the tree wall. She had no such luck.
“Perhaps she plays mistress to them both.”
The stem of Jessica’s champagne flute snapped between her fingers and the remainder of her champagne spilled over on her gloves. Shushing whispers were all she could hear through the buzzing anger in her head, and then the women behind the trees dispersed. A flush washed over her as she tried to sort out the voices in her head. One might very well have been Lady Hargrove, but she couldn’t be sure. Damn it. Why did they have to go and ruin a perfectly good evening?
A footman was suddenly in front of her, his tray raised to take her glass. Jessica placed the broken fine crystal on the tray and wiped her soiled gloves off on the towel hanging over his forearm. She took it and nodded her thank-you.
Once she handed it back to him, she realized that the guests closest were gawking at her as though she were a circus animal. Some of the more prudish members of society turned away from her, their husbands following suit. Jessica pinched her lips but held her head high as she met the eyes of the others, who were probably curious to how she’d react. They seemed mesmerized and unable to turn away from the spectacle she had made.
Stepping back toward Hayden, she bumped lightly into his arm, hoping to draw him away from the gentleman he was currently engaged with. She got Hayden’s attention.
“Shall we take a turn around the room?” He leaned in close to her ear, his voice darkening as he gave her his arm. “You’ll want to seek out that potential husband you’re determined to find.”
She didn’t bother to tell him that it was unlikely given the way she’d just conducted herself and the censorious glares she was receiving from the majority of women present.
“If I didn’t know you better”—she laughed nervously, hoping those closest weren’t listening to her and Hayden’s private conversation—“I would say you almost sound jealous.”
“Maybe I am. I don’t want anyone to stand between our friendship again.”
She looked at him, confused. “I never allowed Fallon to stand in the way of my friendships.”
“I know.” Hayden ran the back of his free hand over her exposed arm. “And that was probably part of the reason he resented you so much.”
She shrugged, feeling uncomfortable with their conversation, especially after the things she’d overheard. Was it any wonder she resorted to recklessness? She’d never been well loved—Fallon had seen to that once he knew her ugly truth.
Would Hayden despise her if he ever knew she was the illegitimate daughter of Lord Henry Heyer? That her mother was a whore who lived in sin daily with Jessica’s father and his wife? Tristan, she thought, might be the most accepting, considering the questionable parentage of his children. Leo wasn’t inclined to care a great deal, either. But how would Hayden judge her? The respectable and ever-proper Hayden?
The room felt like it was closing in around her. Her head felt light and her stomach queasy. Fresh air would help to clear her mind and temper her thoughts. “Let’s take a turn outside,” she suggested.
He directed them back to the open French doors they’d just passed. Her hand went to her throat, where the necklace Hayden had given her was looped around her neck like a weighted collar.
What was wrong with her? Was she not ready for social functions? She felt like a wild bird stuck in captivity and under the scrutiny of too many eyes.
“I’m sorry to have brought up Fallon,” Hayden said remorsefully as soon as they were under the star-dotted sky.
“Don’t apologize. I don’t know what came over me.” She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. It was a cooler night than it had been in a long while, so instead of the pungent smell of the Thames she was surround by the fresh scent of full-bloomed flowers in the garden below. It was uplifting, and the vise that had taken hold of her slowly loosened.
Hayden stepped close to her, blocking her view of the small garden tucked at the back of the property. “We’re here for you to enjoy yourself, Jez.”
His hands cupped her arms. It must be obvious that she was distressed; she’d not explain why, because Hayden always played the hero and he’d search out the gossips whispering about her.
“I know. And I haven’t had this much fun in a long time.” She looked into his dark eyes, almost black in the cover of night. “I’ll forever be grateful to you and Tristan.”
“Because we are friends.” There was sarcasm, or something much darker she couldn’t place, in Hayden’s words. Had she upset him?
She tilted her head to the side. “Of course; how else would I mean it?”
“You could forget this foolish nonsense of finding a husband.”
He seemed almost angry. Most wouldn’t recognize the shift in his stance or the hard glint in his eye to indicate it, but she knew him well enough to see that something was wrong.
“If I could forget about marriage altogether, Hayden, don’t you think I would after all I went through?”
The one thing about their friendship was that they were always honest with each other. Well, some secrets needed to remain private.
Surely he knew that marriage was the last thing she wanted with any of the men here. Though she knew in time that if it came down to a choice between marrying and living a life too close to poverty for her liking she would without second thought choose the first.
“Would it be a hardship if you married me?” he asked.
The idea was absurd coming on the heels of her and Tristan’s discussion, but she also knew Hayden would inevitably ask.
“Be serious, Hayden.” She shrugged out of his hold, needing space.
“Would you like me to get down on bended knee to prove how serious I am?”
While part of her wanted to say yes, she knew she could never bind him to her in that way for eternity.
When she turned back to him he started to lower to the ground. She caught him around the arms and pulled him back to his feet, shaking her head as she did so.
“Please don’t do this,” she pleaded.
“Why not, Jez? I’ll not stand by as you find another man to fill the shoes of what you envision the perfect husband for your circumstance.”
“You’re being cruel.” She released him, tucking her hands behind her back, and looked to her slippers where they peeked out from beneath her skirts. “You’re my dearest friend.”
“And apparently that’s all I will ever amount to.”
She looked at him, alarmed by the bitterness coating his comment. How would she convince him that this was his worst idea ever without giving away her feelings or the secrets only she knew?
“Have—have I ever given you a reason to think we were otherwise?”
He stepped toward her, forcing her back against the balcony wall till they were hi
dden in the darkened cove awash in thick vines of ivy. The leafy greens tickled the sides of her neck and upper arms.
“Have you forgotten last night so easily?” he countered.
His breath fanned over her cheek; hers hitched in her lungs when the moon reflected off the determined glare in his eyes.
“We both know last night should never have happened. Neither of us were thinking clearly,” she couldn’t stop from babbling. “The champagne didn’t help matters any.”
“Is that what you need to tell yourself to pretend you didn’t feel the pull between us?” His hand was as light and fleeting as a feather brushing over her cheek. “That you didn’t enjoy it every bit as much as I did?”
She pushed lightly against his chest, hoping he’d step back and give her space to breathe, to think of another reason this couldn’t be. He didn’t.
“Why are you doing this to me?” she whispered, her voice breaking at the end of the question. She felt as though she’d cry, but she fought against the tears.
“I will never put last night behind us, Jez. I know you felt something for me, fleeting as it was in our stolen moment. You’ll only hurt us both if you keep lying to yourself.”
Was there truth in his words? She thought there might be, and that scared her a great deal. She needed to escape Hayden. She couldn’t think straight with him hovering over her, demanding answers she didn’t have.
She ducked her whole body and slipped to the side … putting very necessary distance between them. He didn’t let her escape far, so she stood for his perusal. He didn’t touch her, but she could feel heat radiating off him as though she were standing too close to burning coals in a brazier. Would she burn herself if she brushed up against him? That was a thought better left alone. But still … she had to wonder. She took a step toward him without really meaning to.
“What do you want from me, Hayden?”
“I just want you.”
She stared back at him, speechless. What if their kiss had been about more and the best thing she could do for her future was explore what was between and beyond their friendship?
What if, what if, what if.
Her knuckles brushed against his chest. How had she ended up in touching distance of him again?
As she went up on the tips of her toes, her breasts brushed against him ever so slightly and her mouth closed in on his.
“There you are.” Tristan’s voice boomed into the silence.
She fell to her feet, her breath frozen in her lungs.
What had she been about to commit to?
“Tristan,” she acknowledged as she dropped her hand and stepped away from Hayden. How much had Tristan seen?
When she turned to look at Tristan, he stood at the doors off the ballroom, his gaze betraying nothing.
“I found you a dancing partner, so come inside before Longsmere is cornered by another young lady looking for a husband. There seems to be a great deal of them on the marriage market this evening—hadn’t realized that when we arrived.”
Now he sounded worried for himself. Jessica would have laughed at the observation, but she couldn’t stop thinking about what she and Hayden had nearly done. She looked at Hayden once more before taking Tristan’s arm.
Hayden’s expression was dark and unreadable; his jaw clenched tight against whatever he’d been about to say.
Distance for the evening would put him in a better mood. And give them both some time to think of the folly she’d just about committed. Or so she hoped. The problem was, she didn’t think he’d see their actions as a mistake any more than she did.
Chapter 12
After what started as an unpromising night for the Duke of A—— his eyes thankfully landed on better company than whom he’d arrived with. He danced with a woman proven to be a veritable diamond in a sack full of coal this season. And the duke did not dance with her once, but twice. Will the duke finally take a bride? One would hope that at his age he’d at least consider settling into married life. So who will the lucky lady be?
Mayfair Chronicles, July 1846
“I’ve taken all the dancing I can take tonight.” Hayden brushed his hands roughly through his hair. “The Duchess of Glenmoore had me dance with every wallflower and every debutante present. I say we head back to my house and open a bottle of champagne to unwind from a very full evening.”
“Sounds delightful.” Jez’s cheeks were flushed. She, too, had been dancing all evening.
Once Longsmere had danced with her, other gentlemen had followed suit. Every one of them was undeserving of her attention.
All Hayden could be thankful for was that Jessica hadn’t been interested in any of the gentlemen she’d taken a turn around the room with. And despite the fact that he wished she wouldn’t dance with anyone but him, she seemed to have forgotten their earlier disagreement on the verandah. Damn Tristan for interrupting them.
For the most part, Hayden had spent the night staring after Jessica. It didn’t matter whether he was on the outskirts of the ballroom, dancing with his many partners, or conversing with a few of the guests. He’d watched her, and he didn’t give a damn that he couldn’t stop himself from doing so. The best thing to come out of tonight was that Jessica was smiling and laughing and had enjoyed the evening to the fullest.
“I have an early-morning outing, but a glass or two can be accomplished before I head home,” Tristan responded when Jessica’s thoughts had wandered from the topic at hand.
“Too bad Leo is preoccupied,” Jessica said. “We could have played a hand of cards. Though I suppose we could make a trip to our favorite gaming hell before we head to your house, Hayden.”
“Out of the question.” Tristan caught Jez’s arm before she tripped up the stairs of the carriage.
Perhaps champagne was a bad idea. But Hayden wasn’t ready to say good night to Jessica when he had every intention of finishing their earlier conversation once Tristan called it an evening.
Hayden stepped in when his two friends could do no more than clasp each other and laugh at their clumsiness. Grabbing Jez around the waist, Hayden hauled her up into the carriage and followed in behind. She giggled. She never giggled.
“What am I going to do with you two?” he asked in exasperation.
Tristan sat across from him and Jez. “A midnight snack will be in order if we’re to make it through another bottle of champagne.”
“We may want to call it a night.”
Jez pouted and pinched his cheek like one might do chiding a child. “Poor Hayden, always trying to do the right thing. What happened to living dangerously?”
“A late meal it is, then,” Hayden said as he clasped Jessica’s hand before recalling his friend sat across from them. He released her with great reluctance. While he was more than ready for any show of affection, he knew Jessica was not.
“And I’m perfectly well; I just can’t recall the last time I had so much fun.”
“It’s about damn time, too,” Tristan said. “We should get out more often.”
“I’ll choose better dancing partners next time. Poor Mr. Hemsworth gaped at me like a fish with a hook caught in its mouth. I don’t think he managed one coherent sentence.”
“I daresay, Longsmere warmed up to you,” Tristan said.
“None of the men you danced with were worth your time.” Hayden crossed his arms over his chest. He did not want to hear what Jez thought of every man on her arm or how those men might measure up as husband material.
“Don’t think I didn’t notice that you glared at all the gentlemen on my arm,” Jez shot back.
“Poor old chap,” Tristan said. “You’re just disappointed to have been appointed most eligible bachelor tonight. Had you not had to dance with every debutante and wallflower, you might be in a better mood.”
“You needn’t remind me.”
Jez and Tristan laughed. Hayden supposed it was a damn sight funnier to them than it was to him.
By the time they reached Hayden’s house T
ristan was yawning. Jez seemed wide-awake and ready to continue their party into the wee hours of the morning. Hayden was happy to oblige.
“I’m parched from all the dancing. And worse, I don’t think I can remember all the gentlemen’s names, either.”
“All that matters is that they know you are back on the market for marriage,” Tristan said.
Jez leaned back on the sofa, toed her slippers off, and put her feet up.
And all Hayden could think was that if one of those men dared to leave a calling card at her house tomorrow he’d call the blighter out and beat him to a bloody pulp for any attempt to court her. Jez was his. Perhaps Hayden had always been waiting for her husband to kick the bucket so he could make his intentions clear. No other man would come between them now.
True to his word, Tristan left after only one glass of champagne. Hayden offered Jez a game of cribbage to keep her for a while longer, which she accepted.
“About earlier…”
His gaze snapped up to hers, surprised that she would bring it up first.
“I know I was out of line.” Though he didn’t think he’d stop himself from doing it again.
She looked at him with narrowed eyes. “Do you really mean that?”
“What do you think?”
“I know when you’re lying, Hayden.” She moved her peg on the board when she hit thirty-one.
He folded his cards together and set them facedown on the table; she was winning the game and he hadn’t a chance in hell of catching up to the points she’d racked against him. “My offer still stands, Jessica.”
“Because of a kiss, you would risk our friendship?”
“It wasn’t just a kiss.” He shook his head. “You are trying to mitigate a risk that doesn’t exist.”
“We were both caught up in the moment.” She looked back down to her cards, avoiding his gaze.
“Isn’t that exactly the point?”
She sighed and set her cards down, too. “And what happens to our friendship when we realize that we’ve made a mistake in wanting more?”
The Scandalous Duke Takes a Bride Page 13