Last Dance in London (Rakes on the Run #1) - Sydney Jane Baily Page 0,133
ransom, but you know how extravagant we nobby gents can be.”
She laughed but then stopped. “Listen.”
From one of the nearby houses, music played. Someone was having a ball, right on the earl’s own Grosvenor Square. She sent him a querying look.
“It seems the Belmonts are home from the same house party which your sister attended if I’m not mistaken. Before you ask, no, I was not invited to their ball.”
Julia was shocked. He was Lord Marshfield, after all. “Nor were my sister and I, come to think of it. I looked through all the mail that had arrived while I was busy getting tupped and married.”
Jasper smiled. “If you say that aloud in mixed company, you might want to switch the order of your words.” Then he cocked his head toward the music.
“For the time being, I suppose we are not welcome in a ballroom anywhere in London, nor at most dining room tables except your sister’s,” he surmised. “Simply because we ran away for a fortnight doesn’t mean the quality folk have forgotten their doubts about you or about me.”
“You mean your woefully low accounts?” she teased.
“That, yes, and many are still wary I’ll steal their wives or daughters, even if they have heard of our marriage.”
“Oh.” She didn’t like to think of that aspect of his life.
“And they’re afraid you’ll steal their necklaces and earrings,” he added.
“Oh,” she said again.
“Never mind. The music is loud enough. We shall dance together right here.” Jasper took a step back and raised his arm, palm toward her, as if they were already mid-dance.
In the carriage, so they could interlace their bare fingers while holding hands, they’d both removed their gloves. They’d carelessly left them on the squabs.
“Dance outside in January?” she asked. “Without gloves on? They’ll take us to Bedlam.” But Julia raised her arm and pressed her bare right palm against his bare right one.
As usual, sparks not merely of desire, as she now realized, but of richly layered love burned through her.
Feeling as if she were practically unclothed in public, she stared Jasper right in the eyes and willingly let her husband take the lead. They took a few steps in the circle, switched to press left palm to left palm, and circled again.
“I can hear your teeth chattering,” he said.
Julia couldn’t speak for trying to clamp them shut.
“This was a bloody awful idea,” Jasper pronounced, grabbing her frozen hand and dashing for the steps.
“Bloody awful,” she echoed, gleefully matching his footfalls as they dashed toward the front door.
Inside were a blazing fire and a lifetime of love well worth running to.
Finis
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It's Christmas in 1814, and the Prince Regent is enjoying a London filled with dignitaries. Meanwhile, at a Twelvetide party in Great Oakley, mischief is afoot. Grandfather clocks are stopping, stolen jewelry is reappearing, and one intrepid lady is falling in love with the one man who thinks her utterly unsuitable—believing her to be a contemptible thief. Enjoy the story of Lady Sarah Worthington and Lord Miles Denbigh.
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Sydney Jane Baily
P.S. KEEP READING FOR an excerpt from another Rakes on the Run novel: PURSUED IN PARIS, available to purchase HERE.
Excerpt from PURSUED IN PARIS
A Rakes on the Run Novel
by SYDNEY JANE BAILY
A rakish spy and a deceptive miss in a danger-filled, steamy Regency tale.
EXCERPT: PURSUED IN PARIS
Prologue
1814, Wiltshire, England
“SEND HER TO FRANCE,” ordered Serena’s father. Lord Elmstead’s tone would brook no argument.
From the other side of the slightly open door, she heard those words sealing her fate, and then her mother’s anguished reply.
“But the danger, Edward.”
“Far more dangerous here. She has been compromised by that half-wit. All of London is sniffing out the scandal, and if we don’t get her away, they shan’t let it drop.”
“It was only a walk in Vauxhall Gardens,” her mother persisted.
“In the dark, Hélène, away from the lanterns, alone with that rake of a man.”
Serena sighed quietly. She had shown extremely poor judgment, indeed, but the