12. Chapter 12
Agood night’s sleep cures almost anything.
At least, that was what Javenia had heard.
Unfortunately, it did not cure embarrassment.
She should have known Algenon would choose the absolute worst time to question her about her forward behavior under the table.
And, of course, it had been right when she’d questioned her actions the most.
Unlike when the incident first happened, when she’d been plagued by nightmares, sleep had thankfully chased away the demons from her past, leaving her with a clearer mind.
Her list had worked… at least number five had.
Number one had been a dismal failure. She was terrible at flirting, so she’d crossed it off completely. Besides, she preferred verbal sparring.
She pulled out the blue paper, now worn from weeks of use, and placed it on her dressing table to put a tiny star next to number five. She shifted on the pale blue padded bench, late morning sunlight pouring in through her open curtains. At least today promised to be warmer than yesterday.
Lightly, she tapped the pencil against the paper as she pondered number five’s success.
Touching Algenon in a way he’d not expected had definitely gained his attention.
Contact itself was nothing new between them, which was why she’d had to do something out of the ordinary to make him stop and think.
A hand on his sleeve or a shared dance was not enough.
So she’d opted for something blatantly intimate.
If it had been anyone else, she could not have stomached the close contact, but Algenon had always made her feel safe and secure.
However, what she’d meant to be a slight brush on his knee had become a full assault on his thigh when her slippery skirts had caused her to grab his leg firmly to keep from falling out of her chair.
Not knowing exactly what to do next, she’d kept it there, frozen. How she had given any intelligent answers to the man on her right she had no idea, but just as they’d finished their conversation something slipped under her fingers, giving her the excuse she needed to extricate her hand.
She’d never felt such relief, but also disappointment. Had Algenon enjoyed the contact as much as she had?
Since he’d not broached the subject of her hand during dinner, she’d hoped he wouldn’t. While she’d meant to touch him, she’d not meant to do so in such a scandalous manner. How high had her hand been?
Her face burned with the recollection.
Algenon, however, had appeared as cool and collected as when they’d first sat down to dinner. He’d even engaged her in a lighthearted discussion about the future, and she’d loved every minute of it. Then he’d caught her staring at his lips, and her mortification had been complete.
Did he ever think of the time they’d kissed?
She did. For over a decade, she’d relived that one moment over and over again.
Last night, it had crossed her mind to recreate their experiment, but on a more personal level?
Luckily, sense had won out when she locked eyes with her father’s disapproving gaze.
She sighed and adjusted her list. Both good and bad had come of last night’s experiment, which meant number five would definitely stay.
It had gotten Algenon’s attention and hopefully made him ponder his feelings more intently.
She also added a star to new gowns. Hers had certainly garnered more admiration from him than she’d ever witnessed.
The memory of his gaze roaming her figure had her using her list to fan herself.
Yes, new gowns had definitely worked.
Clearing her throat, she rose and stuffed the list back in her pocket. Perhaps her desire for his happiness was not as selfless as she originally thought, but was it all that bad? Algenon would certainly be happiest with her.
Not that she could prove such a theory. Though she could certainly make him happier than Miss Weston.
She sucked in her bottom lip and nibbled on it.
Miss Weston had arrived yesterday, along with most of London’s elite, which meant Lord Roberts would be pushing his son in her direction the moment he could rise from his bed.
Perhaps she should convince her mother to change their schedule and attend the opera and Lady Jersey’s card party.
Two raps sounded on the door before Cindy burst in without permission.
“You will never guess who has invited us to the opera, Vee.”
Javenia swallowed her reprimand. “Who?”
“The Duke of Bedford.”
She had hoped it was Algenon. A silly hope considering the feud between their fathers, but she supposed any attendance at the opera was better than none at all. At least they’d be able to see each other during intermission.
“This evening?” she asked.
Cindy flopped down on her bed. “No silly, a sennight from now. No one gives an invitation on such short notice.”
Javenia’s shoulders sagged.
“Oh, and Mama wanted me to let you know our plans have changed for tomorrow. It seems Mrs. Briner is sick, so they have cancelled dinner with us. Thank goodness, too. Her son makes my skin crawl. Doesn’t he know I am a full three years older than him? I’ll not be turning my head for a mere child.”
Javenia bit back a laugh. The man who had led Cindy into dinner last night was seven years older than her. How strange social expectations could be.
“The plans, Cindy?” She prompted when her sister’s gaze traveled to the window without relaying what she’d come to say.
“Oh yes, the plans. We are for Lady Jersey’s card party. Isn’t it thrilling? Phillipa shall be there, and she’s promised we will find the handsomest men in the room to sit down to cards with us.”
A slow smile spread across Javenia’s face. It would be impossible for her sister to play cards with the handsomest man in attendance since Javenia planned on monopolizing all of Algenon’s time, but maybe she could find second best.
The change in schedule was a godsend, though. Her heart couldn’t take several days’ separation, not when she knew what pressures Algenon would face at every turn. She needed to be with him; she only hoped he needed to be with her just as much.
Algenon’s lip curled. If only his father’s aching head had lasted the whole of the season, he’d have been able to skip the opera and any other entertainment where Miss Weston would be in attendance.
Not that she’d paid him much mind the last few evenings.
She was too busy gathering admirers to sneak into dark corners or some such nonsense.
Why then had she chosen to suffocate him with her presence this evening?
There were plenty of eligible men to flirt with and her father was not hovering over her to make certain she spent time with him.
She had all the freedom she could wish for.
Then again, he still did not understand Miss Weston’s motivation in seeking a connection with him.
She squeezed his arm, the one he’d not offered to her, but she’d taken anyway. “I do love a good game of whist.”
The last thing he wanted was to resign himself to another half hour in her presence, so he glanced about the room, looking for an escape.
“It looks like Lord Hamdon has an opening at his table.” He motioned in the viscount’s direction with his chin, hoping she’d take the hint and leave him alone.
“Oh, but I could not leave you all by yourself, Mr. Roberts.”
She ran one gloved finger down his upper sleeve, probably hoping to appear sensual. It had the opposite effect. Ice ran down his spine. He’d never been so grateful for multiple layers of fabric in his life.
“I promise you, I will be well entertained. Lord Ansley just arrived, and I have been meaning to speak with him on a current proposition in the House of Lords. However, if you are interested in politics, you are welcome to accompany me.”
As he’d expected, her nose scrunched like she’d smelled something rotten. “I think I will take that last seat by Lord Hamdon, after all.”
Algenon let out a sigh of relief the moment she was out of hearing.
“That bad?” A feminine voice asked behind him.
How could two wry words lift his spirits so much?
He slowly turned, schooling his face. “It depends. What is your definition of bad?”
Javenia’s lips quirked, and he found himself distracted by the lines about her mouth. They were so familiar and yet their appearance elicited the same excitement he would expect at seeing something fascinatingly new.
“If John were here, he would have a dozen definitions,” she said. “But as he is hiding away from Society again, I suppose we are left to our own devices. Tell me, is it bad like an aching tooth or bad like a rabid dog trotting by your side and leaving you to wonder when it will bite?”
Algenon chuckled. “Both, I think.”
Javenia’s smile fully bloomed as her gaze slowly took in the room. “It is good to know you have some sense. If you’d started vomiting sonnets on that walking disaster, I’d have had you committed to an asylum myself.”
“Walking disaster? Oh come now, Javenia. Have a heart.” She raised an eyebrow at him and it took everything within him not to laugh. “At least admit she is a well-dressed walking disaster.”
The snicker she covered with her hand was a heady reward. He loved making her laugh, especially when she was determined not to. There was something about it that filled his chest and lifted his own spirits. It made him feel accomplished, like it was a talent only he possessed.
After a moment, she sobered. “I see your father has recovered.”
Algenon’s countenance fell. “He has. This ache lasted longer than the ones in the past, but as usual, he is back to good health.”
She didn’t answer him, not that he’d expected her to.
They both knew what sort of restraint was expected in his father’s company.
With that in mind, he shifted to her side instead of facing her.
Clasping his arms behind his back, he donned the appearance of disinterest… and he hated every second of it.
He hated that they had to play like they barely knew one another. Of all the people in the room, he knew Javenia best. He knew the foods she liked, the smells she didn’t, he even knew about the strawberry shaped birthmark on her back.
“What is that mischievous smile about?” Javenia asked, wariness in her tone.
“Do you remember when we took a late evening dip in the stream the year before I left for Harrow?”
Her eyes widened as they darted to the small group of people nearest them. He grinned at her unease.
Her hand snaked out and gave his arm a pinch. “Keep your voice down, you unrepentant lout.”
So she did remember. They’d only been nine and he really should have had more sense, but the summer day had been hot and he’d not wanted to get his jacket and britches wet.
It hadn’t taken much to convince Javenia to go along with it after he explained how much faster their underthings would dry without a top layer.
“You are blushing, Javenia.”
“And you are well on your way to being back in my black books.”
He pursed his lips, pretending to contemplate her threat. “I suppose I should be distraught, but I’ve grown comfortable there. It is like my home away from home. Tell me, do you tuck this black book in your pocket or hold it close to your chest?”
She narrowed her eyes. “What does it matter?”
“A great deal, I assure you. I’d like to know where I am staying when I’m banished. Am I by your side or close to your heart?”
As soon as the words left his mouth, he realized how flirtatious they sounded. Javenia shifted from her left foot to her right, her body swaying the slightest bit closer to his. If he dropped his hands to his sides, her fingers would be within reach.
Warmth spread throughout him. How had one sentence shifted their conversation from light-hearted banter to soul-aching longing?
Until this moment, Javenia had kept her attention focused forward, but he could feel her gaze on his face. Slowly, he tipped his head to look at her. A question hovered in the depths of her warm brown eyes.
He’d meant every word. Whether by her side or close to her heart, it didn’t matter. He’d take her dark moods and sit squarely in her mythical black book if it meant she cared for him as much as he did for her.
An explanation rose to his lips, but he didn’t have time to give it.
“There you are.”
Algenon startled but was relieved to find Phillipa approaching and not Miss Weston. Then he took in the two gentlemen following in her wake and frowned. Both were notorious fortune hunters.
Phillipa forced a smile as she wrapped her arms about herself and moved swiftly to Javenia’s side. He clenched his teeth. Where was Father? Phillipa’s safety was his responsibility.
“Phillipa, how wonderful to see you.” Javenia pulled her into a light hug.
Algenon took that moment to send warning glares at the two swains that had somehow managed to get an introduction to his sister without his knowledge. They took the hint and excused themselves.
Phillipa sighed in relief. “I knew you would help me.”
“As promised,” he murmured. “But where is Father or Lady Roberts? They are supposed to make certain men of that caliber do not even make your acquaintance.”
His sister grimaced. “They are Louisa’s cousins. It is not like she could deny them.”
Algenon took a glass of orgeat from the tray of a passing footman and swallowed half its contents. His stepmother was too kind. If he’d been in the same position, he’d have told them to be on their way.
Then again, he had no blood-related cousins.
His sisters had plenty, but his mother’s brother had had no children, and his father’s only brother had died before Algenon was born.
Maybe if his uncle had survived the illness that took him shortly after the house party where Algenon’s parents had met, familial attachment might have led him to be less prudent.
A movement at one of the tables caught his attention, and he stiffened. Miss Weston’s game of whist must have ended, because she was coming his way, her steps purposeful even if she appeared reluctant. Then her gaze moved to his side and a predatory smile slowly lifted her lips.
He glanced at Javenia and Phillipa, who were discussing strategies to avoid future encounters with their stepmother’s cousins. Why had their presence caused such a chilling look of challenge?
He dropped his voice low. “Phillipa.”
She didn’t respond.
“Phillipa,” he said a little louder.
She and Javenia turned to him.
He swallowed. “It is time to return that favor.”