Last Dance in London (Rakes on the Run #1) - Sydney Jane Baily Page 0,47

insist it be with me. That is unless you have some reason to leave the ballroom again.”

“No,” she said, hating the meek tone to her voice. “I was planning on staying right here. I’m not sure it’s a good idea for us to dance, however,” Julia added.

That seemed to annoy Jasper even more.

“Being seen with me in public is the least of your problems, if you ask me.”

“I didn’t,” she muttered.

“You must never again traipse around your host or hostess’s home. That’s twice now you’ve been caught.”

“Two times out of—” Julia snapped her mouth closed, realizing the confession she nearly made.

Too late!

“Are you mad, woman?”

She sighed.

“No,” he insisted. “I am quite serious. Do you have an affliction that causes you to behave so recklessly, a lack in your intellectual capacity, perhaps? At least, that would be some small explanation as well as a possible defense when you inevitably go to trial.”

She ignored his words, although again, they sounded worse than when Sarah said the same thing.

The next dance was about to begin. Without asking, he placed her hand on his arm, clamped his own over hers, and strode toward the room’s center, making it difficult for her to keep up without trotting. They took up their positions, facing one another.

“Lady Daphne said I may dance with you here, but I should be very careful of any further association with you.”

“Did she? And yet she associates with me and with a few other blackguards.”

“Are you calling yourself a blackguard,” Julia asked, “or saying the others are?”

He didn’t respond but began the first steps of the cotillion, hands high, their palms touching as they circled. As soon at their gloved hands met, she could focus on nothing but the warmth flowing through her.

And then they moved on through the line, dipping and twirling, always ending up reconnected as a couple until the dance ended.

“Are you thinking after this evening never to see me again?” he asked, his tone mocking.

Julia thought first about Sarah. Then she recalled the frisson of pleasure she received even with his simple touch while dancing, the likes of which she’d never experienced, not with any of the men she’d met and danced with in London, nor even with those she’d kissed.

The sensation of wanting and something more — akin to affection — seemed to be growing every time she was near the earl. And of course, there was the garden tryst when he...

“Yes,” she blurted, finally answering his question. “It would be for the best if we never were alone again.” Because she would give in to him, shamelessly, wantonly, willingly.

“What about our ride in Hyde Park?” Jasper reminded her.

“We shouldn’t.” The notion of not riding with him put an immediate damper on the evening. Yet the earl wasn’t giving up.

“I didn’t take you for a coward. What do you think can possibly happen if we ride three feet apart?” His sardonic smile gave her pause.

When he put it that way, it seemed foolish to call off their plans.

“Very well. If the weather ever turns fine again.” And she left it at that.

JASPER WAS DELIGHTED Lady Daphne’s attempt to deter Julia Sudbury from seeing him hadn’t worked. It nearly had. But when the evening came to a close, their plan to ride was still as intact as a virgin’s virtue.

In two days’ time, with the best watery London sun shining on the cool early-Autumn day, he showed up at Lady Worthington’s home at two o’clock in the afternoon having sent word that morning.

When Miss Sudbury came outside, a vision in her bright green riding habit with its black military ornaments running down the front and at the cuffs, she clapped her black gloves at seeing the attractive mare he’d brought for her. He nearly clapped his own hands upon witnessing her joy, as well as his own delight at the ease with which his plan was working.

After introducing her to the chaperone he’d brought, Mrs. Crowley, a matron in his employ for a decade who could well sit a horse, Miss Sudbury let him assist her onto the sidesaddle. The chivalrous act offered him a paltry, brief thrill compared to what he hoped awaited them shortly if she was willing. First, however, he wanted to discuss her nasty habit of going into other people’s chambers. She would be a more desirable bed partner if he knew she wasn’t going to knock him over the head and ransack his armoire.

He thought again of his sapphire cravat pin. With his