Chapter One #2
She lifted a finger and adopted the tone of her most recent pianoforte tutor—the one she had told that she would rather kiss all the frogs in the pond than waste another afternoon beating on the ivory keys of that despicable instrument.
“I will take this dare—however, I will only do so if you ladies guard the entrances to the library to ensure I remain undiscovered by a wandering guest. I realize that is part of the dare, but I do not yet wish to marry, nor do I wish to ruin my sisters. A dare is a dare, but I cannot risk my sisters’ futures.
It wouldn’t be fair to them. I will abide by all the other rules, even the kiss, but I have no intention of being forced into wedded bliss that might not be so blissful.
Nor am I willing to be unfair to my poor, unsuspecting sisters. I am sure you understand.”
Before Connie turned to see the consensus of the group, her eyes narrowed the slightest bit, making Joy wonder what mischief she’d thought to unleash with this dare.
“I don’t know if it’s worth it if we guard the doors,” Connie said. “I mean, what is the dare really, if there is no risk of getting caught? What do you ladies think?”
“Connie, really?” Freddie pulled a moue of distaste.
“These dares are supposed to be entertaining and exciting, not lethal to one’s freedom and family’s reputation.
” She turned to the other two young women.
“Aurelia? Prudie? Between the four of us, we can cover all the doors while Joy empties the pockets of our yet-to-be-named lordling. What say you?”
“What about the kiss?” Prudie asked. “She has to kiss him, or there’s really no danger at all if we take the possibility of discovery away.”
Apparently, Connie wasn’t the only friend feeling a bit out of sorts this evening. Prudie sounded downright cross.
“If it were any of you, you would demand the same precautions I have requested, and you know it,” Joy said.
“You said yourselves there is no real marriageable material here this evening. Did you not?” She refused to be painted as a coward or a player who called foul whenever they feared they might lose.
“I agree with Joy,” Freddie said, ever the faithful friend whom Joy trusted as much as one of her sisters. “What do you think, Aurelia?”
“I agree, and I even have our victim…er…I mean…Joy’s opponent in mind.”
Joy hardened her stare at Aurelia. Surely, she wouldn’t dare choose Lord Smellington.
“I think my brother would be perfect,” Aurelia said with a mischievous grin. “Jansen, of course. Not Ambrose. Ambrose is much too silly.”
“Sir Jansen Winterstone,” Connie said, her pleased expression faint at first, then bursting at the seams with wickedness.
“Perfect! The arrogant war hero who doesn’t give a whit about what anyone says, thinks, or does.
” Her smile took on a particularly evil glint.
“And he is old and experienced. The perfect man to give you your first kiss.” She twitched her nose and gave a coy tip of her head.
“Or, at least, I assume this will be your first kiss.”
“My, aren’t we sour this evening,” Joy said to Connie.
“Overdone the lemonade again, have ye?” Joy knew very well that Connie hated lemonade, ever since nearly choking on it one evening to the point of embarrassing herself by casting up her accounts all over the Earl of Cedarswik’s shoes.
Connie and Prudie had surprised her this evening.
Usually, they all got along quite well with very little hissing and spats.
But tonight, something was different. It was almost as if Connie and Prudie felt she had wronged them somehow and were subtly on the attack for retribution.
Connie’s fair complexion flared as red as her hair, and Prudie hooked an arm around her as if plainly declaring an alliance. “Bad form, Joy. You know how terribly that evening embarrassed our Connie.”
“I remember thinking the Earl of Cedarswik deserved it for making such an inappropriate suggestion that caused our poor Connie to choke.” That wasn’t an apology, but it was close enough.
Joy refused to say sorry unless she meant it.
“It was merely a shame it happened before supper rather than after, elsewise she could’ve showered him more fully. ”
Connie laughed, a genuine, giggling snort that showed all was forgiven. “He was such a cad. Papa had strong words with him that evening.”
“As well he should have,” Joy said, choosing generosity to win the evening. She casually turned and glanced across the room to where Sir Jansen had last been spotted. And he was still there, staring back at her.
She swallowed hard and sent a nonchalant smile his way. He accepted it with a nod that somehow came off as seductive and most inappropriate. Without thinking, she pressed a hand to her throat in a vain attempt at staving off a sudden rush of heat.
Sir Jansen threw back his head and laughed.
How dare he! The man might be as handsome and tempting as the first cup of chocolate in the morning, but his arrogance immensely diminished her opinion of his masculine beauty.
Broad shouldered and a head taller than most in the room.
Hair as black as the devil’s waistcoat, with enough silver glistening throughout to prove he was well past the age of a young buck.
The man commanded everyone’s attention—and reveled in it without shame.
Yes, she would greatly enjoy emptying that brazen-faced cove’s pockets, then kissing him and sending him on his way.
Perhaps the realization that this little Abarough goose was allergic to arrogance might teach him a thing or two.
In the end, he would probably thank her for softening his personality enough to snag himself a suitable wife.
Rumor had it he was on the hunt for one to provide him a manor house full of children to enjoy the land that, some whispered, he worshipped more dutifully than the Almighty Himself.
She turned and faced him fully, tipping her chin higher with an arrogance that matched his.
The insufferable man dared to bow as if she were royalty.
“Get your brother to the library,” she said to Aurelia with an indignant huff. “I hope he brought a great deal of coin. The children’s home needs it.”
*
Sir Jansen Winterstone had watched Lady Joy all night, subtly stalking his lovely prey, who had no idea he intended to make her his wife before the end of the Season.
He sipped the overly sweet ratafia and tried not to cringe at the awful taste of the stuff.
He should have accepted Lord Atterley’s invitation to join him in the smoking room for a decent glass of port and some of the finest tobacco the lord’s personal smuggler could acquire.
But if he had, he would’ve lost sight of Lady Joy and been forced to depend on his sister to tell him what the beauty had done while he wasn’t there to oversee her and plan his next move.
With whom had she danced? With whom had she talked or laughed?
Aurelia knew his intentions and had promised to help wherever she could, but had also sworn to do nothing to damage her friendship with Lady Joy, whom she loved and admired as a good, decent friend who didn’t act like the sister of a duke.
Just as he was about to approach this golden-haired beauty and ask for a dance, damned if she didn’t rush out of the room.
He grinned. Perhaps he had been a bit brazen with his dramatic bow and the looks he’d given her.
She’d obviously read the intentions in his eyes.
The flush of color creeping up her graceful throat had made him ache to pull her into his arms and kiss her until she blazed with desire and agreed to marry him.
He didn’t give a whit that he was merely landed gentry, and she was a peer, the daughter and sister of a duke.
Society and the peerage could all go straight to the devil.
He had more land, more money, and more thriving business schemes than any member of England’s nobility.
Even the king sought his opinion on matters that confused the Crown’s inefficient council.
As Aurelia headed his way, bouncing around the perimeter of the ballroom, his old wartime instincts tingled. There was something afoot, and his mischievous sister was a part of it. He braced himself.
“What are you up to, Aurie?” he asked as soon as she reached him.
“Up to?” She dared to attempt innocence, then tried and failed to appear shocked. She twitched a shrug and tucked a dark curl behind her ear—a sure sign she was neck deep in some feminine tomfoolery. “Shame on you, Jansen. You make me sound like a naughty child who can’t be trusted.”
“You are.”
“Jansen!”
“Again, my darling sister,” he said, lowering his voice even more, “what are you about?”
She fidgeted from side to side, doing her best not to grin but failing. Aurelia exuded a sense of giddiness, always had, even as a baby. After a few more moments of restless shifting, she pinned him with a daring look. “Come to the library, and you shall see.”
“The library?”
She nodded, then unleashed a blazing smile. “Unless you are afraid.”
“That ruse has never worked on me, and you know it. Save it for Ambrose. By the way, where is he? I don’t want him drinking too much and embarrassing himself all because of that conniving Beatrice.
” Jansen scanned the room, hoping to find his brother as well as Lady Joy.
“And where did your friend go off to? Surely she’s not ending her evening this early. ”
“My friend?”
He glared at his sister and waited.
“If you come to the library, you will see. I’ll watch for Ambrose. Last I saw him, he was doing quite well and even danced with Lady Serafina.”
“Lady Serafina?” Jansen barely stifled a groan. “That woman is a reborn pine marten. Ambrose would do well to remember that while she might be attractive, her teeth are sharp, and she has been known to bite.”