Chapter 10

10

E lizabeth knew Jasper underestimated her imagination. Especially the innocence of her thoughts.

For she could very much picture where he would touch. In fact, that very place between her legs presently echoed her heartbeat, a low thrum of undeniable desire. One she might graze with her own fingertips that night in the privacy of her room, under the cover of night, when her thoughts always wandered toward Jasper.

“Dare I ask what your dear Earl of Darington whispered in your ear while you danced?” Jillian asked as Elizabeth joined her.

Elizabeth blinked at her friend, startled from the wickedness of her thoughts.

Jillian quirked a brow. “With that look on your face, I’m even more curious.”

Heat stole over Elizabeth’s cheeks. “A lady never shares what is said during a waltz.”

Jillian grinned. “All I know is that every woman here practically broke their necks watching you dance, wishing he would look at them the way he looks at you. And there were more than a few men admiring you as well, especially with the flush on your cheeks after the waltz.”

“It was an exerting dance,” Elizabeth said innocently. “And come now…” She shook her head at her friend and lowered her voice, her gaze darting about. “You know it’s all an act.”

Jillian settled one hand on her hip. “Do I?”

“Indeed, you do,” Elizabeth gasped, feigning affront at the mere suggestion.

“You ought to be an actress with those blushes then.” Jillian winked. “He’s coming this way now. I must check on my darling Papa to see which man he intends to throw me in front of next.”

Before Elizabeth could protest, Jillian was gone and Jasper approached with a cup of lemonade in his hand.

“Sadly, it is without brandy.” He tucked his mouth down, chagrined. “But you know how the patronesses are.”

Everyone knew how the patronesses of Almack’s were. Securing a voucher for the elite dance hall was already difficult enough without being caught adding liquor to their bland lemonade. And once one was evicted from Almack’s, there was no hope of gaining entry again.

“I scarcely need brandy,” Elizabeth countered. “And I told you that time, the brandy was Lucy’s.”

“So you’ve said.” He handed her the cup, and she drank, slaking a thirst she hadn’t realized she had.

A smile played on his lips as he watched her, and she understood then what Jillian had referred to. That adoration Elizabeth noticed so often now filled his gaze, as if merely observing her amused him in the most endearing manner.

She felt her own lips lift in response.

He was faking, she knew, but a warmth blossomed in her regardless, one she could not control, and she found herself leaning closer toward him, eager to be near.

She caught that familiar spice she had smelled when he’d given her his jacket.

“I like when you look at me like that,” he said in a low murmur that made her skin prickle with pleasure.

“Do you?” Heavens, was she flirting?

It felt silly.

And it felt wonderful.

Freeing and effervescent. Intoxicating.

He winked. “Everyone is sure to believe us when you look at me like that.”

In that one sentence, the glow in her chest snuffed out, extinguished by the reality of their situation. He was an actor and every interaction they had was just another scene.

She would do well to remember, to keep from losing her heart. Playing at this game was dangerous, and she made a vow to avoid Jasper as much as possible, despite his determination otherwise.

Elizabeth managed to put off Jasper over the course of the next several days, citing a feigned illness that had Mama in a tizzy. Even still, he managed to make his presence known, his claim staked for all to see. Delicate pink roses followed the ball.

The following day, however, was her favorite. Rather than a bouquet of hothouse flowers, there had been a paper-wrapped parcel, revealing the full three-volume set of Sense and Sensibility , the novel first released several years prior by the same author who had written Pride and Prejudice , known only as ‘a lady.’ A note accompanied the very generous gift:

I have it on good authority reading helps improve one’s constitution. I pray your health improves soon. I miss you.

Jasper

He missed her? Did he truly, or had he written that for the sake of any prying eyes which might read the missive?

She could not deny her pulse had raced at that one small line that stuck with her through the day.

His gift had also brought with it a wave of guilt at having lied to him about being unwell. Not that it had saved her from his affection. This note, this gift—ideal for a book lover—was so deeply personal, it was nearly as intimate as the conversation they’d had with their waltz. Only this time instead of appealing to her body, he’d gone straight for her heart.

On the morning of their engagement party, three dozen crimson red roses were delivered, the fragrance scenting her room with their heady perfume.

Unavoidable—just like the man who sent them.

Grace and Kitty burst into Elizabeth’s room.

“We’re here to prepare you for your engagement party,” Grace announced, a grin on her face.

“No matter what you say,” Kitty added, her lips pursed in a mock show of determination.

“So, I can’t simply wear my favorite comfortable gown?” Elizabeth nodded toward the blue silk dress she genuinely had considered. It was a year out of fashion, yes, but it was the least restricting of all her gowns. And it did suit her coloring nicely.

But Kitty scowled. “Do tell me you’re bamming me.”

Grace slid her a sardonic look. “You know she is not.”

“But Mama had a new gown made just for tonight.” Kitty marched over to where the gown still lay in its box and pulled the ribbon off without ceremony. She lifted the top and sucked in a breath of sheer delight. “Oh, Elizabeth, it’s lovely. Truly.”

“What should I wear to my own engagement party, do you think?” Grace wondered aloud, then slid a conspiratorial look at her sisters.

“Do you mean…?” Elizabeth asked.

Grace beamed and nodded. “Harold knows we have to wait until after your engagement party before we can formally announce our betrothal, but he was too eager to put it off for a moment longer.”

What was left politely unsaid was how very long Grace had been forced to wait for her engagement because of Elizabeth’s inability to get married.

“Mama has already begun preparing my engagement party, which will likely be in one week.” Grace squealed and clapped her hands. Her cheeks were flushed with excitement, her eyes sparkling with joy.

With love.

And even as Elizabeth’s heart soared for her sister, it sank for herself.

This was how a soon-to-be bride was supposed to act on the night of her engagement party. Not with dread to see her fiancé, as Elizabeth now felt.

But there was more to the sinking sensation in Elizabeth’s stomach. Once Grace’s official engagement had been secured with the public party, there was no longer a need for Elizabeth and Jasper to continue with the facade of their engagement.

The time of their pretend betrothal was finally drawing to a close. And though Elizabeth knew she should be grateful, she could not stop the pinch of hurt in her chest every time she thought of losing Jasper.

She had enjoyed her time with him. The way his flirtation made her come to life and how he was not the man he portrayed to the world and how that made her want to learn even more about it. And then there were those quiet, intimate moments they’d shared together—when he’d almost kissed her, when he’d told her exactly how he’d touch her.

Grace whisked the dress from its box, startling Elizabeth from the places her mind should not go.

“Come now, Elizabeth,” Grace called out. “Let’s prepare you for your own handsome fiancé.”

By the time the game hens had been roasted to a golden brown and the soups poured into the tureen, and the first of the guests were on their way to Langston House, Elizabeth was laced into a corset that pushed her breasts higher than nature intended, and she’d been stuffed into the gown like a Christmas goose.

Though breathing was indeed difficult, Elizabeth had to admit that once again her sisters were correct. The gown looked stunning.

Her narrow waist was impossibly tiny in midnight-blue velvet with silver beaded flowers that caught the light and sparkled. Matching silver flowers were placed in her upswept hair among the many intricate curls, so they sparkled like stars.

Her sisters admired their handiwork, appearing more than pleased with themselves, and deservedly so, as Elizabeth had to admit.

“Lord Darington won’t be able to keep his eyes off of you,” Kitty exclaimed. “It’s all anyone has been speaking of lately, as it is.”

“Have they?” Elizabeth murmured.

“Oh, yes,” Grace agreed. “Whatever you discussed during the waltz had everyone talking.”

Elizabeth’s face flushed. She thought of that conversation far too often. Mostly at night when she lay in her bed alone and his words whispered back to her, silky, sinful. Those were the times she let her fingertips trail over her inner thighs, pretending they were his, setting her body alight with a longing she did not know how to quench. She’d even been so bold as to stroke the seam between her legs, finding herself damp and hot, the pressure of her touch almost too exquisite to bear.

A knock came from the door, and Mama entered to announce the party was about to begin, sparing Elizabeth from having to answer Grace’s question.

Bess was beaming the entire carriage ride to Langston Place.

Truth be told, Jasper was rather excited himself. He had been enjoying his engagement with Elizabeth, and missed her the last two days they had not seen one another.

He knew she’d been unwell, and he found himself worrying over her health often, imagining her spending most of her time curled up in her bed reading, as she often said she enjoyed doing.

To that effect, he had procured the three-volume set of Sense and Sensibility , which had come highly recommended from the bookshop owner.

Jasper was becoming one of those ridiculous sods who fawned over a woman, but he didn’t care. After all, it was all for show.

Wasn’t it?

Jasper alighted from the carriage and gave his arm to Bess, leading her into Langston Place. The townhouse didn’t have the ornate opulence of Darington Place, not that it was poorly appointed by any means. But in contrast, it was comfortable, lived in, in the way that suggested a family who loved one another resided inside, with thick pile rugs and tables crowded with vases and walls laden with portraits and paintings. There was a cozy warmth to the building that made it feel far more a home than the expansive halls of Darington Place, where the only thing that rang out louder than the footsteps was the silence.

Jasper and his grandmother joined Lord and Lady Langston to receive the guests just as Elizabeth descended the stairs.

She was exquisite in a dark-blue gown, sparkling with bits of silver as if she’d shone down from a moonbeam. A veritable goddess of the night.

And she would be standing by his side.

His fiancée.

He straightened taller. Tonight of all nights, he wanted to be worthy of her. Or at least appear he was.

“Doesn’t she, Jasper?” Bess asked.

Jasper turned to his grandmother. “I beg your pardon?”

“I think he’s quite besotted.” Bess chuckled indulgently. “Doesn’t your fiancée look lovely?”

“Absolutely beautiful,” he answered earnestly.

Elizabeth watched him with her arresting blue eyes, never taking them off him, even as she flushed in pleasure at his words.

The receiving line was endless, when all he wanted to do was open the celebration by dancing with her.

Finally, Lord Langston addressed the room, announcing their engagement in his booming voice, beaming with pride when he looked at his daughter.

And casting one of warning to Jasper when his face was turned from the crowd. A message well-received. Again.

“Shall we dance, dearest?” Jasper asked Elizabeth.

Trepidation showed on her face.

He offered his hand to her and vowed in a voice only she would hear, “All will be well.”

In truth, Jasper had been looking forward to dancing with her since their waltz.

In fact, he thought about that waltz far too bloody often.

He only hoped she did too.

Elizabeth accepted his hand as her friends and her parents all exchanged grins with one another. For Bess’s part, she watched them with sparkling eyes, the look of joy on her face such that it nearly broke Jasper’s heart.

This, Jasper realized, this was precisely the reason Elizabeth had gone along with the engagement party she did not want. Every smile turned in their direction came at the cost of her comfort, of her own desires, and judging from the look of love on her face as she regarded them, she had no regrets.

This joy would be short-lived, but at least they could give them tonight.

And at least there was time for Jasper and Elizabeth to enjoy each other until their engagement came to an end.

“Tell your grandmother I said thank you for all the flowers,” Elizabeth said with a side look at him.

“She’ll be delighted,” Jasper answered. “Which have been your favorite?”

“Do you even know which ones have been sent to my home?” She teased.

And he did. Every blossom, every delicate stem, touched first by his own fingertips to be bestowed to her.

Pink roses made him recall the beauty of her sweet blushes. The purple irises that reminded him of the cast of her blue eyes in the moonlight. And red roses for the romance of the evening.

Even if theirs was a fake engagement, he could still be a romantic, could he not?

“The books,” she answered. “Though I believe those might have come from you.”

“I recall you had mentioned when you and my grandmother had spoken at dinner that you had enjoyed Pride and Prejudice. ” Jasper recalled every scrap of conversation from their dinner that night. “Once I learned Sense and Sensibility was also by ‘a lady,’ I had to purchase it for you. I do hope you’ve recovered from your illness?”

“I truly loved the books and have already started reading them. And I’m much improved, thank you.” She slid her gaze from his and he had the distinct feeling she was lying.

Had she ever been ill at all?

But would she truly feign it to avoid him?

Before the discomfort of the idea could settle over him, she continued. “The tulips have been my favorite. They’re such lovely flowers. Not that the rest are not. Certainly, the bouquet today was the most impressive.”

As it was meant to be.

Jasper merely smiled as they took their positions on the dance floor.

The crowd went silent.

A waltz.

Of course.

Elizabeth’s mouth parted and he knew, he knew , she was remembering last time.

He put his hand on her narrow waist and clasped his hand with hers. “You truly do look beautiful.”

“I can scarcely breathe in this corset, if I’m being entirely honest.” Despite her deprecation, there was a pleased smile on her lips as she spoke.

“Perhaps you will be more comfortable when the corset is removed.” His mouth went dry at the prospect.

“Are you trying to live up to your reputation?” Her lips curled around the tease, and he felt the familiar heat of desire tighten inside him.

“Do you want me to?” He shouldn’t have asked such a thing. And yet he was desperate to hear her answer.

Her eyes searched his, and suddenly they were dancing in a room with no one else in it. His entire world whittled away around them, until only the two of them remained.

“Would it matter if I did want you to?” she asked.

Yes. Yes, it mattered more than anything in the world.

But whatever he might have said in ready reply dissolved on his tongue as he imagined breaking his vow to touch her. How he might tug the dress from her body, stripping away the tight corset to kiss the prints marring her slender back from where the lacings hugged uncomfortably against her skin.

“Except you don’t touch virgins,” she said, her voice husky as he twirled her in the dance.

Good God, had she meant that to sound like a challenge thrown at his feet?

She met his gaze and lifted her lips in a sensual grin.

And promptly tripped.