Chapter Seven #2
“Really.” Mari’s eyes flashed blue flames. “Why do you think men must always fight? There are civilized ways to deal with problems. Violence is not the answer.”
Jamie shrugged, trying not to smile at Mari’s fiery reaction. He wondered if she’d have as much passion if he kissed her. The thought made his cock stir and he shifted in his chair. “Men are civilized only when they ken they will land on their arses—or worse.”
Maddie gasped. “Did you just say—”
“He did,” Mari interrupted. “There is no need for a repeat. Perhaps we could get back to a more civilized discussion without resorting to fisticuffs?”
Jamie grinned at her and stood. “I will leave you ladies to it then.” He turned as Mrs. Fields appeared in the doorway, the salver in her hand.
“Givens is freshening up,” she said to Mari, “but this just came in the post. I thought you might want it right away.”
Maddie clapped her hands. “Oooh. An invitation. Who sent it?”
Mari took the silver letter opener from the tray, slit the seal on the ivory envelope and then gave a shriek.
Jamie moved forward. “What is wrong, lass?”
She shook her head numbly as Maddie reached for the invitation. Jamie watched her eyes grew large. “Oh, my goodness. It is from Lady Jersey. She is hosting a rout this Friday and requests your presence.”
“Yes!” Mari reached out to hug her friend and they both screamed.
Jamie backed out of the room, covering his ears. For the love of St. Michael, why on earth would a lass scream about an invitation?
Even though the invitation had come directly from Lady Jersey, Mari was apprehensive about the party, but this time around, the atmosphere turned much more friendly.
Several of Almack’s patronesses made a point to greet Mari at Lady Jersey’s rout, thus ensuring that other matrons of the ton would not dare shun her—or do so at the risk of their daughters not receiving vouchers for the spring Season.
Even Violetta and Amelia engaged her in idle talk, although from the way their fans fluttered along with their eyelashes, Mari was pretty sure the chatter was more for Jamie’s benefit than hers since he was standing next to her.
She had to admit he cut a handsome figure, even if he refused to wear a cravat.
The tartan sash seemed to intrigue the small bevy of girls clustered around him, or perhaps it was his Scottish burr.
The soothing deepness of his voice did have a pronounced effect even on the matrons.
The debutantes blushed and giggled when he called them lass.
Mari frowned slightly. Really. Jamie called her lass too.
Did the girls have to act so silly over something that simple?
A short time later, she and Maddie had been pushed aside as more young ladies wandered over. Jamie seemed not to notice.
Maddie rolled her eyes at Mari when Violetta and Amelia tried to block the rest of the girls from Jamie. “Those two are going to kill each other someday,” she whispered.
“If their beaus do not murder them first,” Mari whispered back, gesturing toward two young men across the room. “Yancy and Nevin do not look happy.”
“Neither do several of the others,” Maddie replied. “Do you think there will be a brawl?”
“They would have to be nodcocks to try,” Mari said. “Jamie stands nearly a head taller than any of them and has more muscle too.”
“Yes, he does.” Maddie’s glance slid over to Jamie and she sighed. “You are so lucky to watch him practice swordplay.”
Mari looked at her friend in surprise. Was Maddie interested in Jamie? “You had better not let your mother hear you say that.”
“I suppose not. She would swoon, and I daresay Papa would keep me sequestered in my room. Still,” she added with a giggle, “it does not hurt to look.”
She should be shocked at Maddie’s revelation, but Mari really couldn’t be a hypocrite.
She liked watching Jamie practice too—when he was not aware, of course.
Something about all those magnificent muscles flexing and bulging as he lunged and thrust and parried with a slight sheen of sweat on his golden skin did warm and mushy things to her insides.
Mari turned and met the intense green gaze of a young man standing not far from them. His blond hair was cropped in the manner of French fashion and, while slender and not as tall as Jamie, he displayed a kind of feline gracefulness in his stance.
She looked down quickly, bringing her fan up to whisper to Maddie. “Do you know who that is?”
Maddie brought her fan up also. “No, but I saw him talking to Ladies Pembroke and Molyneux and several of the other patronesses earlier. They crowded around him, so he must be someone important.”
With a sideways glance through her lashes, Mari could see the blond man looked amused. He must know they were talking about him. How embarrassing. She studied her closed fan nonchalantly.
“He is coming this way,” Maddie whispered excitedly.
“Shhh! We do not want him to think—” She stopped. The young man was close enough to hear them.
“Mademoiselles. Pardon moi. Est-ce tolerable… Is it permissible to introduce myself to such beautiful ladies?”
Maddie gaped at him while Mari took a deep breath. Up close, his eyes slanted slightly like a cat’s. His look was intense, penetrating. She really should not allow a conversation without a proper introduction, having already faced scandal with Jamie.
Lady Molyneux bustled over, saving Mari from the decision. “I see our newly arrived portrait painter has expressed an interest in you,” she gushed. “Allow me to introduce Nicholas Algernon.”
He bowed gracefully from his waist, his gaze not leaving Mari’s.
“The pleasure is all mine,” he said.