5. Chapter 5
five
I t was all David could do to turn his attention back to the table.
Footmen brought around Devonworth’s port and a selection of cigars but David only wanted to see Jenny.
His mild obsession with her had gone at full tilt ever since she’d promised herself to him.
The only way to save himself was to have her and get it over with.
A man could only take so much without tending toward madness.
The conversation predictably turned to politics, as it usually did when his brother attended social events.
But several other politicians were here, too.
As was Dev and his entire life before Cora had come along had been politics.
Put them all together and it was like reading a textbook.
Public health, women’s rights, education, and suffrage.
All boring. David had sat through so many conversations on the intricacies of each topic that he could give a three-hour speech on them.
It wasn’t that he didn’t understand they were important. It’s that he didn’t understand why they needed to talk about them ad nauseam. Yes to all. Simple. There were a great many other interesting topics in the world.
Thirty of the most excruciating minutes of his life later, they were finally released back to the party.
The doors to the music room had been thrown wide open and the chairs arranged like a fan so they all had a view of the piano and where Jenny would presumably stand.
Boring conversation aside, at least his burgeoning erection wasn’t a problem anymore.
He kept his port glass and refilled it before settling himself in a chair in the back row. Dev dropped down beside him.
“Aren’t you in the wrong place?” David asked him.
At the other man’s questioning look, he explained, “You’ve been apart from your wife for…
” He made a show of pulling his watch from his inner pocket and noting the time.
“It’s been over half an hour since you last saw her. Hasn’t your leash been yanked?”
“Bugger off,” Dev rumbled but there was no real bite to his words. It would be difficult to mean it when his eyes had immediately found his wife, who was busy ushering guests to their seats, and gone soft and gooey like the center of a boxed chocolate.
David grinned and tipped the glass to his lips, letting the warmth settle on his tongue before it slid down his throat. He teased his friend but Cora was good for him. He’d been wound tight since they’d met as children, but she mellowed him.
“I’m surprised you’re still here. It’s been hours. You never stay for society events,” Dev said.
“No choice. Can’t have Jenny face these jackals alone.”
Dev finally glanced over at him. “You care about her?”
He shrugged. “I feel responsible for her.”
Dev nodded and David began to understand why they were having this talk. “As do I. I’d be remiss in my duties as her brother-in-law if I didn’t warn you that I won’t stand for you hurting her.”
“Christ.” David sat up and tossed back the last of his drink.
“I am serious about this, David.”
“I’ve no doubt you are, but it’s completely unnecessary. We’ve an understanding. Didn’t she tell you? ”
“Of course. It’s an arrangement.” Dev kept the words low. “I understand that. But that doesn’t mean you can…go on as you were before.”
“What are you on about?” David looked for an empty seat but they were filling fast.
“Agreements and boundaries are one thing, but emotions are tricky things.”
“Bloody hell.” He motioned for a footman. “Whisky,” he said and pushed his empty glass into the man’s hands.
“While this may begin as one thing, it can easily transform into something else.”
David leaned over to keep the conversation between the two of them. “Christ, man, it’s a marriage, not a love affair.”
Dev gave him a look that very plainly said he didn’t believe David knew what he was getting into. Only David knew exactly what he was doing.
“She’s leaving for Paris after the wedding,” he added. “We shall be fine.”
Dev looked like he wanted to say more but the swish of skirts distracted them.
Two women swept into the room. The accompanist wore black and had her hair pulled back in a tight bun.
Jenny also wore black, but her gown was more costume than scenery.
The low neckline plunged deep and was accented with feathers that were longer at her shoulders than at her breasts.
Her hair was arranged in an elaborate updo with curls left to spill over one shoulder. She was beyond beautiful.
The men scrambled to their feet and a light round of applause broke out. The ladies took their places and each gave a curtsy to address the crowd. Jenny didn’t look at him once. She merely bestowed an incline of her head to his brother and Kit, who sat in the front row next to Cora and her mother.
“How long is this portion of the evening?” he whispered to Dev as they retook their seats. Opera was not one of his favored amusements.
His friend raised that same damned judgmental brow and that’s when David knew.
This. This was why he’d sat down in that chair.
He wasn’t here to chat about emotions and behaving himself within his upcoming marriage.
Dev wanted to make certain David didn’t leave early.
As if he would leave his future bride. David might be an arse but he wasn’t that bloody cold.
“I’m not a child. I don’t need a governess,” he grumbled, but the music began, drowning him out and his friend ignored him.
He recognized Mozart’s “Der Holle Rache” immediately. Mozart was Kit’s favorite. Musicians often played at Heathercote, their country home, on nights they stayed in. David had been forced to sit through enough performances that he’d heard countless sopranos sing it.
But nothing had prepared him for Jenny. Her voice was crisp and clear but there was a texture lurking beneath the surface.
It enriched her voice and filtered out in moments of great emotion.
The song was about a queen filled with rage and Jenny’s voice, though young and capable of sweetness, managed the depth and violence with grace and authenticity.
Her eyes sparkled with malice that made his breath catch.
Her voice reverberated on the last note, keeping the room in her thrall.
David found that he was leaning forward in his chair, enraptured by the creature before him.
A round of applause followed by calls of “Brava!” broke the spell.
He joined in and a tray appeared at his side.
The forgotten whisky he’d ordered. He took it and tossed back a swallow to disguise how unsettled she made him .
Her next aria was “Vorrei spiegarvi, oh Dio!” It was a quieter piece that built from soft yearning to passionate need. That passion sparkled in her eyes, on her face, and in her voice. David was transfixed. Goose bumps pebbled his skin.
She deftly made her way through several more songs before finishing with “Deh, vieni, non tardar” from The Marriage of Figaro .
He sat transfixed by each one. When the performance was over, Kit was the first one to his feet.
David followed, but at a much more leisurely pace because his knees were those of a newborn foal, even though his glass sat barely touched in his hand.
He set it down so he could clap and when he found his footing, he made his way to the front of the room to join the crowd that had gathered around her.
They reluctantly made way for him but she barely glanced his way.
Kit had taken her full attention. “Well done, dear girl. The moment I heard the opening strains of ‘Der Holle Rache,’ I admit I believed you had made a mistake. Only the most seasoned soprano would start with such a challenge. Didn’t I whisper that to you, Alfie? ” He nudged Alfred.
“Indeed,” David’s brother said with slightly less enthusiasm.
“Even the opera doesn’t start with a song like that, but you did it, dear girl. Every note was flawless.”
“Thank you, Mr. Warwick. I am glad to have pleased you,” Jenny said, her cheeks rosy from the praise.
“You did very well,” Alfred added in a rare moment of approval.
Kit leaned forward, his hand on Jenny’s. “Did you hear him sniffle at the end? You got him.”
“I did not,” Alfred scoffed.
Kit laughed and Fanny interjected, “You most certainly did. I heard it. ”
David thought it best to intervene rather than have his brother rush to defend his own honor. “That was lovely, Miss Dove. I thoroughly enjoyed it.”
Her eyes widened as they finally settled on him. They were so dark and velvety, he found himself sinking into their depths. “Thank you, Lord David.”
His breath caught in the most peculiar way. It was like his lungs were in a vice grip.
Kit, who was much more animated than he had been at the start of the evening, didn’t miss a beat. “Tell me, who have you trained with in Paris?”
David exchanged a glance with his brother.
Kit obviously approved of her. It would make things smoother at home, because David wasn’t inclined to believe Alfred approved of the match.
His brother had not forbidden it, and he’d been helpful in planning the party, but he wasn’t enthusiastic.
Not like he’d be if David had chosen a respectable debutante.
“If you’ll excuse us,” David interrupted Jenny’s answer. “I’d like a moment with my bride.” Instead of offering her his arm, he took hold of her hand.
She could hardly put up a fight in front of everyone. She smiled and said, “Excuse us.”
Kit graciously stepped away and spoke with the baron at his side. Musicians started playing as servants cleared the chairs away for the dancing that had been planned. David led her from the room.