Last Dance in London (Rakes on the Run #1) - Sydney Jane Baily Page 0,14
at that moment. And finally, he was free to look for Miss Sudbury once more. To that end, he returned to the ballroom. Naturally, she was dancing, where any respectable miss ought to be. He’d been foolishly loitering in the hallway, when all she’d done was freshen up and return to the ball. He wished he’d claimed the dance directly before dinner, and then thought perhaps it wasn’t too late.
While she was still partnered elsewhere, he went directly as the crow flies toward Mrs. Zebodar.
“Please excuse my intrusion,” he said, interrupting her conversation with a lady at the next table. “I am wondering whether Miss Sudbury is available for the next dance after this.”
“You wish to escort her to the dinner break?” the matron asked getting right to the point.
He could lie and pretend he didn’t realize that dance was the important one, but decided against equivocation with this woman.
“Indeed, I wish to converse with her in an easier fashion than can occur while dancing.”
“I shall have to sit upon your other side,” she reminded him.
“Naturally,” he agreed. Because nothing would be out of place, neither by number nor by sex in Lady Pritchard’s two vast dining rooms.
“Very well. Miss Sudbury is free for that dance and for dinner.”
He nodded. “Thank you. I shall return anon.”
Walking away, he knew Mrs. Zebodar’s eyes were boring into his back. He also knew if she’d an inkling he’d recently been in the hallway offering to make love to another woman, he wouldn’t be dining with her charge.
Jasper couldn’t help looking forward to claiming Miss Sudbury again. Her expression was priceless when he next appeared.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I believe our next dance isn’t until later.”
To his delight, she actually sounded sorry. Despite her earlier attempt to set him down a peg with her talk of do-nothing noblemen, he had a blossoming hope she was interested in him in return.
“Your chaperone has given her permission for us to dance and to take our dinner together. Isn’t that so, Mrs. Zebodar?”
“Indeed,” the woman said, then turned to Miss Sudbury. “He is an earl, after all,” she added in a whisper that even the next table could hear.
Rather ill-mannered some might say, but that was the way of it. If Jasper hadn’t a title and had already claimed two dances, the chaperone might have refused him a third as well as a dining companion. Yet because he was who he was, nearly all paths were cleared for him.
Glancing again at Miss Sudbury, he was rewarded with a placid expression, a hint of smile, and a devilish twinkle in her eyes.
“I understand Lady Pritchard is serving quite a feast in both dining rooms,” she said. “We can all be thankful no one will go hungry tonight, and least not within these gilded walls, can’t we?”
He narrowed his eyes. She was being sharp again, but he chose to ignore it.
“All this dancing and carrying our heads so extremely high does work up an appetite,” he agreed, wryly, taking her hand in his. “Shall we?”
To his delight, she relaxed under his touch and even laughed again, the same delightful sound as before. He would swear lust had replaced blood in his veins and was coursing to all points south.
Randy was far too tepid a word. Despite how Miss Sudbury had stolen from him in all likelihood and had given him a good dressing down with her harsh tongue, he still wanted to suck that very tongue and use his own to give her a different kind of lashing altogether.
It was a relief to put his hands on her, even if it was merely palm to palm for a country dance and not a waltz. And when her citrus and floral aroma reached him again, he wanted to sniff it directly from her bare skin.
Madness!
They didn’t speak, which probably enhanced her desirability. Jasper wasn’t interested in being insulted by her anymore. He would far rather feel her thighs around his hips while they enjoyed one another. Words would be unnecessary, unless she was crying out his name.
“My lord, you look flushed,” she said.
He did, in fact, feel hot under the collar. If he didn’t have a woman soon, he would embarrass himself.
“Perhaps you merely need to slake your hunger,” she added, her sparkling gaze mocking him.
She knew, dammit! The chick-a-biddy knew he wanted her and it only increased the sport!
Chapter Five
“The clerk at St. James’s Workhouse recorded an astonishingly large donation from an anonymous donor.”