Chapter 31
Chapter Thirty-One
“There is no need to be nervous,” James murmured.
“Isn’t there?” Evie whispered back. “All eyes are upon us tonight.”
They stood at the top of the stairs that descended into the boisterous ballroom.
The mirrored walls magnified the size of the crowd.
Skirts in a rainbow of hues swirled, jewels glittered, and voices and music blended into a dull roar.
As they waited to be announced, guests studied them with open curiosity.
Taking his wife’s gloved hand, James kissed it.
“Beauty such as yours will always draw attention,” he said.
She was a vision in her vibrant pink gown, which complemented her fair coloring and made her look like a shy angel.
In contrast, her eyes brimmed with sensual warmth and lively intelligence.
Her neckline was more daring than usual; he knew she’d chosen it to draw attention to the diamonds, but he thought the creamy mounds of her breasts were far more enticing than any jewels.
In short, she was exquisite, and any hot-blooded man would look twice.
Protectiveness surged through James. He would stay close to her tonight.
“They are looking at you, not me,” she said. “You are the celebrated personage. I am merely an accessory.”
As endearing as he found her lack of vanity, she was utterly wrong.
“You are no one’s accessory,” he said. “As fellows will be vying for a place on your dance card the minute we get down there, I wish to reserve the waltzes now.”
“Well, then. I shall see if I can fit you in.”
At her impish smile, he couldn’t resist bending to her ear.
“You fit me in fine last night,” he said in a low voice. “In fact, I seem to recall you requesting that I go even deeper.”
To his delight, Evie’s cheeks pinkened and matched her gown.
As she wore this most charming of blushes, they were announced.
They descended into the gilt-and-marble pit and were immediately swept up in the social tide.
Knowing how the game was played, James sought out the influential members of his party.
He danced with their wives while they danced with his.
Although he would prefer to monopolize Evie’s dance card—an impulse his mama would undoubtedly chide him for—he was proud of her poised performance.
She danced, smiled, and yes, dazzled. Since their reunion, she had gained confidence, and her intellect and modesty made her a force to be reckoned with.
He couldn’t ask for a better countess, wife, or political partner.
She was everything he’d dreamed of…and more.
He wouldn’t let anyone—or anything—threaten her.
The awareness that the blackmailer might have eyes and ears on her at this very moment prompted James to continuously scan the throng.
Did the footman who was serving the champagne look overly long at Evie’s necklace?
What about the one manning the refreshment table…
did he seem to be monitoring her movements?
The problem was that everyone began to look suspicious.
Distracted, James had difficulty focusing on his own conversations.
“Lord Manderly, I was looking for you.”
Like a Biblical sea, the throng parted for the hostess. Lady Vernon glided toward him in a silver gown, a matching plume bobbing in her hair. Despite her glittering appearance, James’s attention shifted from her to her escort.
What in blazes is Ryerson doing here?
On the surface, Eustace Ryerson was the picture of respectability: tall, robust, and composed to the last button.
His dark hair was carefully pomaded, his cravat flawless.
His expression was mild and polite…if one failed to notice the tiny smirk on his thin lips.
His wintry eyes were a window into his character.
Cold and hard, they were convinced of their own clarity.
“I have brought you a surprise, my lord,” Lady Vernon said lightly. “I thought the two of you ought to get better acquainted before the hustings.”
Her charm did not cover her ruthless stratagem.
Wanted to throw two gladiators into a ring, did she, and see who emerged victorious from the match?
James felt the excitement of the surrounding guests, who watched the exchange like Roman spectators, sampling canapés and sipping on champagne.
Lady Vernon was not only testing James’s mettle, but she was doing so publicly: to make sure she’d picked a winner this time and not a loser.
Gosford’s warning surfaced. Keep your enemies close and your friends closer.
That was the way of politics, and James had to accept it. Even if it went against the foundation of who he was. The honor and decency he espoused.
“A pleasure to meet again, sir,” he said with a bow.
“The pleasure is mine,” Ryerson replied. “I was not certain you would be present this eve.”
“Why would I miss such an agreeable event?”
“Not by choice, of course. But I heard you were struck down by illness after visiting the parish infirmary.” Malice glinted in Ryerson’s gaze.
“A well-intentioned act, no doubt, but it serves to remind us that man’s remedies are not God’s.
Disease, like poverty, will not be cured by Acts of Parliament but by acts of Providence. ”
“I do not believe God intended men to die for want of medical treatment,” James said evenly. “My illness and recovery only reinforced what I know to be true: the privilege of good health should be available to all—not just those who can afford it.”
“My lord, I fear you grow impassioned. Perhaps it is the aftermath of your illness—fever is known to erode rationality.” Ryerson’s sharp barb earned muffled laughter from the audience.
“Yet we cannot forget where we are. All this talk of contagion and death will surely offend the sensibilities of these esteemed guests. I know you are new to politics, sir, but never forget the importance of delicacy and respect.”
The nerve of the bastard, taking refuge behind civility, when he advocates for barbaric measures that punish the poor and leave the sick to die.
“The truth may not be pleasant or polite, but it is, nonetheless, the truth. Given the choice, I would deal with honesty, in all its forms, rather than falsehoods, no matter how pretty.”
“Quite the idealist, are you not? Cut from the same cloth as Gosford.”
“While Gosford has my respect for his many years of serving the public good, he and I are not the same,” James said evenly.
“That is true. Scandal has ruined him, but you are an honorable fellow. One from an impeccable lineage and whose reputation is untarnished. Have a care, however: no man is impervious to rumor and gossip.”
Something flickered in Ryerson’s eyes—glee. Though the gloating light vanished the next instant, it left unease coiling in James’s gut.
Does Ryerson know something? Has he somehow caught wind of Evie’s past?
“The higher one rises, the harder the fall, as the saying goes,” Ryerson said airily.
James’s suspicion grew, and he was scrambling to counter when Evie emerged at his side.
“Darling, you promised me a dance.” She turned a guileless look upon Ryerson. “Oh, forgive me. I see you are otherwise engaged.”
Lady Vernon made the introductions.
Ryerson bowed over Evie’s hand with a flourish.
“My lady, every great man must have his guiding star,” Ryerson said grandly. “Lord Manderly is fortunate to have found his in you. I daresay your charm and steadiness keep his enthusiasms in check.”
The condescension—and the fact that he was using Evie to deliver the dig—shot up the pressure in James’s veins.
“How kind of you to say, sir.” Evie’s manner was honey-sweet. “However, my husband keeps his own counsel. Indeed, his enthusiasms, as you put it, are quite catching and have won him many admirers, of which I am one.”
“Your devotion is admirable,” Ryerson said with a brittle smile. “As you undoubtedly nursed Manderly back to health during his illness, you do so now with his reputation.”
“My husband’s reputation needs no nursing. It is, and has always been, in the pink of health.”
“No man is perfect,” Ryerson said shortly. “In reputation or in health.”
“From the way you queried my husband about his illness, I assumed that you had never suffered an ailment.” She widened her eyes like an ingenue. “I envy you such robustness, sir—and such conviction.”
Ryerson sputtered as smothered laughter rippled through the crowd. Lady Vernon, James saw, was gazing at Evie with dawning respect.
Pride and gratitude blazed through him. What a woman fate has bestowed upon me.
“Come, my dear.” He offered Evie his arm. “I was promised a dance, and I shall claim this waltz as my due.”
“Of course. If you’ll excuse us?” she said politely.
With a demure curtsy, her eyes sparkling brighter than the diamonds, Evie went with him to the dance floor.
Evie exited the retiring room.
Despite the late hour—and her sore toes from dancing—she buzzed with energy…
and happiness. It wasn’t often that James needed her help, but tonight she had proved her worth.
She’d stood for him as he’d done for her countless times.
How dare that worm Ryerson insult him? James had been holding his own, but her wifely instincts had led her into the fray.
Afterward, she’d fretted that he might resent her interference.
She needn’t have worried.
“Thank you for coming to my rescue,” James had murmured during their waltz. “What a brave little wife I have.”
“I didn’t mean to interfere—”
“You didn’t. And I shall have to think of some way to thank you—say, by putting you on your hands and knees tonight.”
The quiver of heat had made her stumble. James caught her, of course, steering her smoothly through the turn.
Recovering, she’d muttered, “Would that be thanking me—or yourself?”
Laughter had gleamed in his gaze. “Let us call it an act of mutual appreciation.”
The thought of mutually appreciating one another caused Evie to hasten her steps.
Having made the rounds, she and James could leave…
and commence with the evening’s true festivities.
She was about to pass through the marble colonnade that circled the ballroom when a footman approached.
Blond and strapping, he looked as new and shiny as the brass buttons on his livery.
“Do I have the honor of speaking with the Countess of Manderly?” he asked tentatively.
She gave him a puzzled smile. “Yes.”
“I have a message for you, my lady.”
He extended a silver salver, and dread slithered up her spine when she saw the familiar penmanship. She picked up the sealed note as casually as she could.
“Who gave you this?”
“I am not certain. My duty is to deliver messages, and this one, um, appeared on my tray. It might have been there for some time before I noticed it,” he said apologetically. “If you wish, I could ask the butler whether he saw—”
“That won’t be necessary.” The last thing she wanted was to draw attention to the note. “I’m certain it is from my husband, announcing that he is ready to depart.”
“Yes, my lady.” The footman looked relieved. “I’ve conveyed many such messages this eve.”
Evie waited until he left to break the seal.
Deliver the diamond necklace to the hermit’s grotto at midnight tomorrow. Place it in the niche at the entrance. Come alone—or I will destroy the Earl of Manderly’s reputation and future.