10. Chapter 10 #2
Algenon bent close to her ear. “He’s not here.” His warm breath tickled her neck, sending frissons of awareness all the way to the tips of her fingers, but it was his words that allowed her heart to take flight.
They had a whole evening free of Lord Roberts’s oppressive presence. One whole evening for her to put her list to good use, and she knew just which one to employ.
She laid her hand on his sleeve. “Lead on, then.”
Algenon needed to get control over himself.
There was something different in Javenia’s movements.
She sat closer to him, moved her hand to and from her plate in a way that drew his gaze repeatedly to her lips.
Even the way she slowly sipped her drink was alluring.
Perhaps it was the lighting, or maybe the wine was getting to his head.
The amazing dress she’d chosen for the evening probably had magical powers that drew his eyes like magnets to metal.
He’d memorized every gown she owned, so he knew this one was new.
Someone had expertly sewed the tucks that created the puffed short sleeves, the yellow fabric laying perfectly against Javenia’s creamy skin.
His gaze followed the flow of fabric to its square neckline and down to the ribbon that gathered the fabric below her bust. Was that a pearl embedded in the cream-colored bow?
Someone gave a little cough and his gaze shot to Javenia’s. She was glancing at him out of the corner of her eye.
Algenon wanted to crawl beneath the table.
Twice he’d been caught staring in places he absolutely should not. Would she believe him if he explained his innocence?
“That is a lovely… pearl.” He pointed slightly with his chin. Too late, he realized he’d admitted his guilt.
A smile played on her lips. “Thank you.”
No chiding or correction? He speared a piece of boiled potato and popped it into his mouth.
“And what do you think of the sleeves?”
He choked on the potato. She’d been watching him far longer than he’d realized. He reached for his glass, hoping to wash down the unfortunate bite.
Lifting it to his lips, he took a large gulp and swallowed. Thankfully, the potato complied and slipped down easily. Something soft grazed the side of his thigh and he wondered if he’d brushed against Javenia’s gown. He moved his leg away.
“I think they are lovely and quite finely made.” There, that had been a sensible statement.
Her eyes widened. “Are you ill?”
“Not at all.” He adjusted in his seat.
“Oh good, because your face is flushed, and you just complimented me.” Her eyebrows lifted comically high. “Twice, to be exact.”
He willed his face to cool. Men looked at women. It was a natural thing to do. Then why did he feel like a numbskull for getting caught? Where was his natural charm when he needed it?
He stumbled over his words. “I am certain I have complimented you before.”
She stared down at her plate, pushing her food around, all humor gone. “Not that I can recall.”
Had he really never offered her a compliment?
“At least not without a barb attached.” She flashed him a quick smile.
The matron to his left asked about his family’s health, and he turned to answer her.
It was not a difficult question to answer, but he hesitated when he felt the slight pressure on his thigh again, this time a little firmer.
Their seats were close, but he did not think he was close enough to brush Javenia’s leg.
He answered the woman, explaining his father’s headache and subsequent absence for the evening, then promised her he’d extend her well wishes for better health. The moment he turned back to his food, the brush came again, only this time it settled firmly on his leg.
That, most definitely, was not Javenia’s skirt. It was her hand gripping his thigh several inches above his knee. Fire shot through him like a lightning bolt and he swallowed hard. What on earth was she doing? They were in the middle of dinner. What if someone saw her hand there?
He glanced nervously about the table, but no one paid them any attention, not even Lady Plum, one of London’s most active gossips.
Had Javenia done it on purpose?
Of course it had to be on purpose. One did not mistake their leg with someone else’s.
The hand on his thigh shifted slightly higher, causing the hair on the back of his neck to stand on end.
He let his eyes slide closed momentarily before remembering he was supposed to be eating.
With a tight grip on his fork, he stabbed at a piece of meat… and missed.
How did one miss something right in front of their face?
Easily, it seemed. He’d known Javenia his whole life and somehow missed how forward she could be. Not that he minded. He liked her hand on his leg far too much. It fulfilled years of fantasies that were best left buried.
Carefully, he hazarded a glance at her and found her face averted as she listened to the gentleman on her other side.
The skin along the gentle curve of her neck flushed pink, possibly a sign of how the contact affected her.
Then again, perhaps it was nothing. The room had grown unbearably warm, after all.
Setting down his fork, he leaned back and removed the linen from his lap to dab at his mouth.
Javenia’s fingers slipped from the edge of the napkin, and he wanted to curse when she placed her hand back in her own lap.
But he’d seen her fingers on his thigh with his own two eyes, proof that he’d not fantasized the whole interaction.
His heart thrummed a happy tune as he finally had the wherewithal to get his pesky bite of meat into his mouth.
Javenia’s heart could not be far from his if she’d take such a risk by touching him so intimately. He had no right to hope, not with the challenges placed before him, but he did.
He glanced down the long table to where the duke was engaged in conversation with the Countess of Lincolnhurst and his nose wrinkled.
At least the woman’s son was not in attendance.
Last season Lord Hamdon had intentionally courted Javenia, and Algenon had feared he’d lose her.
But the season had ended, and with it the viscount’s attentions.
Hopefully he’d not renew his interest now that she was back in London.
Algenon didn’t think Javenia returned the man’s regard, but he couldn’t stand the thought of losing her to the likes of Hamdon.
The man carried himself with a bored indifference that spoke of his arrogance.
He probably considered most everyone below his notice.
And his mother… Algenon pulled his gaze away from Lady Lincolnhurst’s obviously flirtatious overtures toward the duke. Did the woman have no shame?
To distract himself from his ever-growing tumultuous feelings he stared at the opposite wall.
Several portraits lined the long dining hall; their gold gilt frames similar in design yet varied in shape.
His own home held similar pictures. Like most of his peers, generations of Roberts’ family portraits were displayed in a gallery at their country estate.
Why did the duke display his around the dinner table?
“They are beautiful, do you not agree?”
Algenon turned to find Javenia contemplating the same portraits. After a moment, she rewarded him with her warm, brown-eyed gaze.
“It is like we are dining with all the great people of the duke’s family,” she said softly.
His chest rose and fell with the revelation. “I’d not thought of it like that. Do you believe His Grace hung them here as a way to include his deceased family?”
“I would. I cannot imagine how difficult it will be when my parents pass from this life. I’d want to have them close. To feel like they were there in important moments.”
He searched her face. Javenia had always had a good relationship with her mother and father, even if they disagreed at times.
He suspected Lord and Lady Upton’s acceptance of her had a great deal to do with their felicity.
They understood their daughter’s independent spirit, and while it made them worry, they simply worked around it to make certain she was safe.
No wonder she’d want them to always be a part of her life.
They’d encouraged her to find what made her happy. As a child, it had been insects. As a young woman, it had been her horse. And now…what did Javenia need for her happiness now?
Her old mare had long since passed, and while insects still intrigued her, she didn’t spend her days seeking them out. She enjoyed reading and long walks, but what was her vision for the future?
“How do you imagine your own dining room some day?”
The question came out before he thought too much about it. He’d been wondering what she wanted in life when his own desires had pushed their way to the surface.
He wanted her. As unattainable as it was, he wanted to pretend for just one evening that one day they’d have their own home. He wanted to know how she’d like their future home to look.
She glanced over the table. “I think I’d prefer something smaller. Large rooms and grand tables are all well and good until you have to sit half a county away from one another.”
He smiled at her exaggeration. “Perhaps something like the table you have at Hazelwood?”
“I suppose. It would depend on how many children we have and what size dinner parties would be expected.”
Those were both fine things to take into account but his mind snagged on her use of the word we. She hadn’t said how many children I have. She’d included him in her equation. At least he hoped he was the other half of we.
A footman stepped up and cleared away the dinner plates. He sat back to give the man access, then waited while a second man placed a bowl of pudding in front of him. The warm bready mixture smelled of sugar and cinnamon.
Javenia’s eyes lit up, and he knew exactly why. She adored cinnamon. It had been her favorite spice since her uncle brought back the flavorful tree bark from the East Indies when she was a little girl.
“And will you serve bread pudding to your guests at this future table?” he asked.
“If I do not eat it all myself before they arrive.” She placed a spoonful of the dessert into her mouth, her customary cheeky smile lifting her lips.
He wanted to kiss that smile off her face. Such a kiss would be sweet and spicy, much like the woman herself.
Javenia’s smile faded, her eyes flicking to his lips. Algenon’s mouth watered and he didn’t think it had anything to do with the sweet treat he’d yet to take a bite of. Was it possible she wanted to kiss him as much as he did her?
Then she jerked her gaze away, her attention dropping to the bowl in front of her.
The feeling in the room had suddenly changed, but he didn’t understand how until he glanced up and noticed Lady Plum staring at them from down the table.
He tried to affect a bored expression as if nothing noteworthy had happened.
Apparently, they’d attracted quite a bit of attention from the other guests, including Lord Upton and his wife.
Anxiety, like a fist, tightened around his throat. How long had he been staring at Javenia’s lips for people to notice? What would Lord Upton say to such a blatant show of admiration?
Algenon dropped his gaze back to his pudding. Idiot, he chided. He definitely needed to get control of himself.