Last Dance in London (Rakes on the Run #1) - Sydney Jane Baily Page 0,10
face of life, as it were.”
Again, she had rendered him speechless. She’d also paused halfway between her chaperone and the guests who were taking up partners ready for the next dance.
“I mean, look around you, sir. Or even in the mirror. What does the nobility do besides collect rents to keep them in silks and sparkling baubles?”
She glanced at his cravat, upon which was affixed a ruby pin. He felt soiled somehow, as if wearing even the smallest jewel made him complicit in some extraordinary scheme of laziness and deceit. Beyond waspish, she was intolerably venomous!
Clearing his throat, he decided he’d best put her in her place.
“I assure you, many of the people in this room do a great deal.” He glanced around him, seeing the youngest and most frivolous among them. “Well, maybe not these particular people, but in many of the rooms in Mayfair and in London proper, there are industrious folk, I assure you. For the nobility are also statesmen and lawmakers and ... and—”
“Men of business?” she offered helpfully, although they both knew a titled gentleman would rather eat his own arm than say he was in the business class.
“Stewards of the land,” he finished.
“But not farmers,” she said. “As I said rent collectors. As for statesmen, I say pish!”
“Pish?” This was the strangest conversation he’d ever had in a ballroom.
“Yes. Sitting around in the Palace of Westminster, holding your precious parliamentary sessions, deciding how the rest of must conduct ourselves and how much tax we must pay to the crown’s coffers.”
He frowned. She had a very low opinion of nobility to be sure.
“What about the wars?” he asked, and his tone had become a little gruff. After all, he’d lost a few friends whom he’d met in his school days at Harrow and at All Souls College at Oxford. He’d been one of the lucky ones to escape the wars with all his limbs and his senses intact.
“I will give the noblemen their due in that regard,” Miss Sudbury said. “I’m certain the wealthy officers make as good a target in their scarlet coats as any foot soldier, and being high upon a horse, perhaps even more so.”
Was she mocking him and his comrades-in-arms?
“Lord Marshfield,” she added, her features softening, “there is not a loyal subject of Britain who doesn’t appreciate what our soldiers have done in Europe. Did you go to war?”
“I did.” He tried not to be a stiff priss, but it was becoming increasingly difficult to carry on a civil conversation when she seemed intent on shooting arrows his way.
She nodded. “Then I thank you, sir. How nice you could return to this world.” She gestured around them, and at that moment, a servant approached with glasses of champagne. She took one.
“However, many of the regulars who fought just as loyally are seen begging in the streets, their once proud uniforms in tatters. Next time you and your friends are taking on your heavy mantle of statesmanship, you might want to consider ways in which Parliament can help out those who served under you. And I don’t mean your horse.”
She tipped her glass to him in salute before walking away. He’d been roundly dismissed.
Left staring after her, Jasper finally sauntered to an empty table, head held high.
Now what? That hadn’t gone as planned, nor had he even questioned Miss Sudbury about his blasted sapphire cravat pin. He almost felt embarrassed to bring up the subject of jewelry. Moreover, she no longer seemed the type to indulge in thievery, so righteous over the injustices of society.
JULIA WISHED SHE HADN’T been quite so tart-tongued with the earl. After all, he needn’t have put himself in harm’s way in France at all. Many of the nobility hadn’t. Yet his arguments for the usefulness of aristocrats in London were laughable, especially in a room filled with vapid young snout-faces, all hoping to make a match based on family connections, titles, and wealth.
Regardless, she hoped she hadn’t made an enemy because he was two things — powerful, thus potentially dangerous if he ever discovered her illicit actions, and he was incredibly attractive.
Of course, that was neither here nor there, but Julia couldn’t ignore it. He made her heart beat quickly and her body pulse along with it. How amusing it would be to relax into some sort of easy banter with the man and, even better, enjoy her first full-fledged tryst. She sighed, knowing she had probably scared him off.