Last Dance in London (Rakes on the Run #1) - Sydney Jane Baily Page 0,121

pleasure. And the more he tried to rein her in, the more she struggled against him.

Besides, ever since losing her own ring, she’d lost all stomach for thieving, particularly with Sarah risking her own safety by returning jewelry. Julia had already done precisely what Jasper wanted, but his arrogance in thinking she would obey to have him tup her was intolerable.

But how would she ever sleep that night? Her intimate parts were still tingling. The beast! She should go back and demand he finish the job.

Finally, with such a silly notion, she made herself smile and at last lay down on the soft, comfortable bed, snuggling beneath the covers.

“Julia,” she could almost hear her sister saying, “you are acting like a pudding-head!”

SURPRISINGLY, THE NEXT morning, Jasper didn’t look daggers at her. Ostensibly, he had decided to behave like a gentleman instead of a spoiled and thwarted libertine.

And then at the first opportunity to torment her, he jumped.

“Ow!” Julia exclaimed, scalding her tongue on a too-eager sip of chocolate that morning.

“Would you like me to blow on your ... chocolate?” he asked, his expression beatific, as if butter wouldn’t melt in his mouth.

Instantly, heat pooled low at her core, making her squirm in her seat.

Lady Marshfield entered at that moment, forcing him to turn away and stop his wicked gaze.

“Cook said her knee is twinging and there might be rain,” said the dowager countess. “We can only hope it comes and goes or doesn’t become snow. Gracious! It might be a blizzard and not a soul will come to the party.”

“Why don’t we get Cook to sit by the fire,” Jasper quipped. “She can put her leg up, perhaps wrap some sort of poultice around her knee, and see if she can stave off the storm.”

Julia couldn’t help smiling.

His mother stared at him, frowning, and then suddenly, she laughed.

“I see. You’re making a little joke. But her knee is a good indicator, I tell you, and not to be sneezed at. You can fix her knee all you like, but the rain will come if the rain will come.”

“Truer words were never spoken, Mother.”

Exasperated, Lady Marshfield poured her own tea. “Your humor seems more wry than usual. What have you been up to, dear boy?”

The earl sighed splendidly. “It’s what I haven’t been up to,” he said, sounding woebegone.

Julia knew precisely to what he was referring.

“What do you mean?” his mother persisted.

Julia coughed. What was he going to say?

Jasper looked directly at her, and she felt her cheeks warm. Then he turned innocently to his mother.

“I have been missing the company I usually find at my club. That’s all it is. Very quiet and dull here in the country. Making my humor a bit caustic.”

“I think Miss Sudbury and I should be insulted,” his mother said. “In fact, I think that was not well-spoken of you, and you owe our guest an apology.”

Julia saw him sit up straighter for being taken to task.

“You’re right, Mother.” He fixed Julia with his rich brown gaze. “Miss Sudbury, shall we keep close company today? Very close?”

As her eyes widened, he added. “For Lady Marshfield is correct. I must strive to be a better host. I shall teach you to play billiards. Mother, is the table uncovered, I can’t recall? And if we get tired of indoor entertainment, then we shall go for a ride? You haven’t had a good ride in days, have you, Miss Sudbury? I know how much you enjoyed our last one.”

Julia sipped her chocolate and tried not to let him get to her. Twelfth Night and the party were nearly upon them. Moreover, his mother didn’t seem to detect any undercurrents, nor the ebb and flow of desire and irritation coursing across the table.

She’d shown Jasper a weakness. Now that he knew how much she wanted him — enough to sacrifice her pride and morals and go to his room — he intended to tease her mercilessly, as he’d tried to do the night before between her legs.

All at once she realized what was good for the goose was good for the gander.

“Yes, I should love to try my hand at billiards. First, you must tell me how to set up the balls, and how precisely balls are to be handled. And then, you shall have to show me how to hold a long, hard stick. I’m sure there’s a knack to firmly holding the shaft.”

She saw him swallow, the so-called Adam’s apple in his neck going up and down.