Chapter 19

As soon as the door closed behind Eleanor Weatherby, Jasper began yanking open the buttons of his falls with trembling fingers. He felt slightly ridiculous, like a schoolboy with so little control over his body he had to duck around a corner and abuse himself after catching sight of a pretty girl. But right now, he needed to touch his cock, to make himself come. Desperately.

He leaned back against the closed door to the music room, confident the maids would not be able to push it open with his bulk against it. He groaned as he took his cock in his hand. He was so engorged, he could feel himself throbbing. Spitting into his palm, he began pumping his hand up and down his own length. His mind was full of images of Eleanor—her dusky rose nipples, peeking out over the cups of her corset. Her full breasts jiggling as he had ground against her. Her nails digging into his scalp as she desperately pulled him closer. And most of all, the dazed, overwhelming pleasure in her eyes as he’d made her come for him.

That’s right, Eleanor. You can say you hate me a thousand times, but your body betrays you.

It didn’t take him long, as he’d already been at the point of desperation when he started stroking himself. He barely had the wherewithal to yank his handkerchief out of his pocket before his ballocks tightened and he felt that familiar twinge, the one that meant he was passing the point of no return. Then the pleasure washed over him, and he had to clench his jaw to keep from crying out as he spilled and spilled and spilled into his handkerchief.

He slumped against the door, his legs like gelatin and his breath coming in harsh pants. That had been one of the most intense orgasms he’d ever had, which made him wonder—if it was that good even after Eleanor fled the room, how good would it be when he had her naked beneath him?

He meant to find out. Tonight.

After restoring himself to some semblance of a decent appearance, Jasper slipped back into the ballroom and resumed his seat in the back row. He made it in time to watch the last three performances, including the scene from Twelfth Night enacted by Clarissa Weatherby and Lady Francesca, which was quite well done.

Sometime during the performances, the rain had finally stopped. The guests gravitated toward the windows to enjoy the spread of cakes the servants had laid out, drawn to the welcome sunlight filtering through the glass.

Felix wandered over. “You were great, Jasp, you and Miss Weatherby both.” He rubbed the back of his head. “I daresay much better than Pippa and I would have been.”

Jasper spread his hands. “If the scene calls for bickering, then you can’t do much better than Miss Weatherby and I.” He nodded toward the refreshments. “Would you like some cakes?”

Felix shook his head. “I’m still full from luncheon. Let’s check on the kittens.”

As they strolled down the hall, Felix said, “I thought the scene between Miss Clarissa Weatherby and Lady Francesca FitzSimon was also well done.”

“I did as well,” Jasper said. “Lady Francesca is quite knowledgeable when it comes to Shakespeare.”

They had reached the stairs, which were deserted. Felix glanced around, then dropped his voice low. “Lady Francesca is one of the young ladies you were considering for your future bride, is she not?”

“She is.”

Felix waited a few beats for Jasper to elaborate. When he did not, he said, “And?”

Jasper measured his words carefully. “I was initially hopeful, as Lady Francesca has a number of fine qualities, her love of Shakespeare amongst them. But I have reached the conclusion that we would not suit.”

“And why is that?” Felix asked as they turned down the corridor toward Jasper’s rooms.

“Honestly? She doesn’t like me. When we’re together, she trembles the whole time, as if she were a lamb and I a wolf.” He shrugged. “We might be well-suited intellectually, but I don’t much like the idea of a wife who’s terrified of me.”

“Oh. That is a shame. What about the other one?” Felix screwed up his face. “What was her name again?”

“Lady Josephine Paulet.” Jasper made a slashing motion with his hand. “I’ve ruled her out. We haven’t a thing in common.”

“That’s too bad.”

They had reached Jasper’s rooms. Jasper was turning the key when Felix said, “Do you know who you do have a lot in common with, who isn’t afraid of you? Eleanor Weatherby.”

Jasper fumbled the key as he pulled it from the lock. He felt his cheeks heating. Little did Felix know what he had been doing with the lady in question not half an hour ago. “Eleanor Weatherby?” He forced a laugh. “We would kill each other within a day.”

This was inarguably true. They had already given each other la petite mort, as the French were wont to say.

“Don’t laugh it off, Jasp,” Felix said. “Watching the two of you on stage”—he waved a hand, searching for the right words—“there was something there. A spark, you might say.”

A spark that had promptly exploded into a fiery conflagration the second they were alone. Felix was more right than he knew, not that Jasper could admit as much. “We were just acting, Fee.”

Felix was studying him in a way Jasper did not much care for. “Are you sure? Because—”

“Benedick, Beatrice,” Jasper said, squatting next to his dogs in an attempt to change the subject. “Are you two keeping these kittens in line?”

It really was remarkable how the huge dogs had taken to the kittens. Sheba was back to pouncing at Benedick’s tail, along with Wellington and Lavender. But this time, Benedick appeared to be enjoying the game, too, and was swishing his tail eagerly while he watched the kittens frolic.

Midnight appeared to have developed a taste for adventure after his escapade across the house and was trying to sneak off, a plan Beatrice would not condone. Each time he reached the edge of the mat, she would snatch him up by the scruff of the neck and move him back to the center.

Felix chuckled, easily distracted by the animals, as usual. “I admire Bea’s diligence. But she’s going to have to sleep at some point.”

As if on cue, Beatrice yawned. Settling down on her mat, she plunked a gigantic paw across Midnight’s back, holding him in place. The kitten mewled in protest, but Beatrice settled her wrinkly head on the mat, ignoring him.

Jasper scratched each dog behind the ears, then took a seat on the sofa.

Jasper’s valet, Stephens, strolled into the room. “Does Your Grace wish to take the dogs out now that the rain has stopped? I took the liberty of setting out an older pair of boots, as I imagine the mud will be considerable.”

“Thank you, Stephens. If I decide to go out, I will certainly change into them.”

Felix settled into the chair opposite Jasper. “Were you able to watch my brother’s turn on stage, Stephens?”

Stephens held up the decanter in a silent question. At Jasper’s nod, he began filling two glasses. “I was watching from the back of the room, yes.”

Felix leaned forward. “And what did you think?”

His valet was giving his brother one of those speaking looks as he handed them each a glass of port. “His Grace’s performance was… illuminating.”

Felix barked out a laugh. “Jasper was just telling me that things have floundered with the two young ladies he was hoping to court. What do you think, Stephens, are there any other candidates he should consider?”

Jasper swirled his glass. “Be very careful in how you answer that, Stephens.”

“As His Grace has alluded, I must think of my employment. I will therefore eschew the most obvious suggestion and mention Miss Emily Stanhope.”

Jasper frowned. “Emily Stanhope? Really?”

Stephens shrugged. “She gave a very fine performance from As You Like It. Her maid, Polly, has only good things to say about her. And she’s quite pretty.”

Jasper frowned. “I don’t know. She has a button nose. Button noses are insipid, don’t you think?”

Felix and Stephens immediately exchanged a suggestive look. Jasper rolled his eyes. Of course, they would interpret this as a tacit endorsement of Miss Weatherby, with her dignified Roman nose.

Jasper stood. “I think I will avail myself of that change of boots, Stephens. I’m sure the mastiffs could use a turn about the garden after being cooped up for a day and a half.”

Stephens hastened to fetch the boots, and Felix headed back to his own room. Jasper would enjoy a romp with the dogs, who would not ask annoying questions, allowing him to anticipate his rendezvous with Eleanor in peace.