Last Dance in London (Rakes on the Run #1) - Sydney Jane Baily Page 0,17

two London banknotes of substantial amounts.

“Good God!” he finally exclaimed, sitting down before jumping to his feet again since Julia remained standing. Then he raised his gaze to her face again. “My lady, this is a tremendous donation.”

“Enough for a floor?” she asked.

“Yes, certainly,” he agreed. “More than one.”

“I shall come back to ascertain the progress. I would be very disappointed if the money wasn’t used as promised, sir.”

Julia often made the idle threat with no idea how she would follow up on any type of retribution should the man simply take the money and go to Scotland or Spain.

“I understand, miss. If you can wait, I shall write up a donation receipt of funds and you can sign—”

“There is no need. I intend to remain anonymous. If all goes well, you may receive more. If you fail to put it to good use,” she trailed off, considering whether to mention contacting the authorities if she even knew whom they might be.

The clerk nodded. “Very well. I shall still count it and write up a receipt and sign it myself. I like to keep things all above board.”

“I appreciate that. Good day, sir.” And as easily as that, she’d done some good in the world and could count it a day worth living.

JASPER CONSIDERED HAVING his trusted footman, Rigley, leave his calling card at the Countess of Worthington’s house, but it smacked of eagerness. He wanted to see Miss Sudbury again, but he didn’t want to appear like a hell-born babe.

That, in itself, was an oddity. He usually didn’t care a fig for how his reputation preceded him or if he appeared to be precisely what he was, a scapegrace, a man of the Town. As far as he was concerned, it was often better for a female to see him coming a mile away and know what she was getting in to. Yet he’d made a judgment error by choosing Louisa Tufton, and he didn’t want a repeat of that unpleasantness.

However, Miss Sudbury had a pragmatic air about her when she was in the company of the nobility, a class she deemed less than honorable, and he wanted to surpass her expectations. Of course, he still wanted to bed her, and he was certain he’d detected enough interest from her in his own person that he should count on said occurrence.

Another ball or dinner party wasn’t going to get him any closer to his goal. Unless it was a party of two!

To that end, Jasper sat in his study and wrote a brief invitation, barely couching the intimate nature of it in terms that could be taken another way. If she arrived and was surprised by their being only two of them, then he could claim her misunderstanding, but Miss Sudbury would have to be a dimwit, indeed, not to understand his meaning.

Signed, sealed, and stamped with his ring, the letter went off with Rigley for immediate delivery. He almost instructed his footman to wait for a reply, but again, that gave the appearance of being too enthusiastic, which in his experience was the wrong way to gain a female’s attention. Instead, Jasper needed to keep himself busy.

Naturally, he went to White’s and met with two old pals from Oxford. After a game of billiards and a discussion of the news of the day, he detoured to Watier’s, owned by the Prince Regent’s favorite chef. The food, as expected, was divine. By the time Jasper returned home, he was hoping against hope Miss Sudbury had seen her way clear to respond.

She had!

Dear Lord Marshfield,

First, I must thank you for your invitation, so unexpected. Some, I suppose, might consider it an honor.

However, if I am reading it correctly, then I must decline with one line of explanation: Let me remind you, sir, I am a vicar’s daughter.

Yours truly,

J. Sudbury

The deuce! She’d understood his bold invitation for what it was, an attempt to get her alone for a possible after-dinner seduction. If not during dinner! For he could easily imagine sending a few plates flying to the floor in order to press her down upon the tablecloth and feast upon her.

While he had an excellent cook, he could be certain Miss Sudbury would enjoy that particular course most of all. He definitely would!

Vicar’s daughter, indeed! She was as worldly as any Drury Lane strumpet, or he would eat his hat. At least, she gave off a knowing confidence. He would believe her words, but her kiss gave them the lie. She