Page 41 of His Wife, the Spy
“I’m fine.” He dropped a kiss on her forehead. “Every lady in thetonwill race to tell you I have no feelings to hurt.”
He missed a step in their dance and narrowly avoided treading on her foot. He’d kissed her. In the middle of a dance floor. And, given the amused stares from several of his friends, it hadn’t gone unnoticed.
“Everyone is staring,” she whispered. “We must be near Lord Argyll. Every lady in the room has been admiring his legs in his kilt.”
“They’re likely wondering what he’s wearing underneath.” He grinned down at her. “There’s a rumor that Scotsmen wear naught but fresh air.”
She blushed to her hairline. “That would be inconvenient in a waltz.”
Cad that he was, he was considering how convenient it would be in other ways. “Do you know what I’m thinking?”
“That you should have a kilt to go with your corset?”
And how many ways he could use a pink cravat. Jasper leaned close to her ear. “Do you have pink roses against your skin, Lady Ramsbury?”
A shiver went down her spine, teasing his fingers and his imagination. Dear God, she smelled like a spring field in the Wiltshire sunshine. How many times had he lain in those fields, staring up at the sky, and let the grass tickle his ears?
Her eyes sparkled wickedly. “Peonies, my lord.”
He should have known. Roses were far too delicate and fragile for her. Peonies, on the other hand, were sweet and hardy, and they worked hard to be upstanding and straight, even if their stems betrayed them.
The waltz ended, and Jasper bowed to Annabel before ushering her from the floor and back to the chair beside Lady Carmichael. The walk helped rein in his thoughts and ease the tightness in his trousers.
Cousin Amelia and her husband Richard were at the table, chatting with Lord and Lady Carmichael. Jasper bent double to kiss her cheek. She returned it and squeezed his shoulder on her way to Annabel.
“Ferrand.” He shook Richard’s hand. “Good to see you in London.”
He liked Amelia’s husband. He had a level head, a keen business sense, and a fortune he’d earned through hard work. He also voted well as Uncle Augustus’s proxy.
“You as well.” Richard looked past Jasper to the ladies. “But be prepared. Amelia’s talked of little else but cornering Annabel for along talk.”
They returned quicker than expected, both smiling. Amelia returned to Richard’s side like a magnet. “I’m stealing your wife tomorrow, Cousin.”
Annabel’s eyes sparkled brighter than when they’d been on the dance floor. “She’s invited me to tea with her charity circle.”
“I always find it wise to yield to the worthier opponent.” Jasper’s tease was only a half measure. He knew from personal experience that his young cousin was formidable.
Richard’s crooked smile and raised eyebrow gave him a moment’s pause, however. Apparentlyteameantwhiskeyin some way.
“What exactly—”
“Lord Ramsbury, Lady Ramsbury?” Garret Spaulding joined their circle. “May I congratulate you on your wedding.”
Jasper took the young man’s hand and then his measure. His gaze was direct and sincere, his grasp strong. “Thank you, Spaulding.”
“May I have the next dance with the bride?”
When Annabel nodded, Jasper swallowed his pride and watched her go. He’d had to marry Annabel to dance with her. All Spaulding had to was ask.
Pull yourself together, man. He’s being kind, and she’s doing her job—and having fun while doing it. You need to do yours.
“Into the breach, Cousin.” He kissed Amelia’s cheek. “Thank you for inviting her to join you.”
“You say that now.” Richard chuckled as they shook hands.
Amelia discreetly punched her husband in the arm and led him away, laughing. “As though you mind.”
Jasper watched them go, sharing their laughter alone. He’d need to warn his wife about his cousin’s odd, and lucrative, pastime before tomorrow.
