Last Dance in London (Rakes on the Run #1) - Sydney Jane Baily Page 0,74

sit on the sofa before taking the chair opposite.

Distracted by his distance, by how he hadn’t drawn her into his arms already and kissed her, she nearly patted the sofa cushion beside her before stopping herself. If he could behave, she could, too.

“I wasn’t certain you would accept my invitation,” Jasper said, leaning forward to pour her a glass of wine from the carafe. “In fact, I would have wagered you would not.”

“I will be leaving soon. I suppose that convinced me to come, albeit against my better judgement.”

“Leaving?” Jasper echoed. “I thought you liked living in London.”

“I do. Parts of it, at any rate. The city has much to recommend it,” Julia agreed. “However, I am only here due to my sister’s kindness. When she leaves, I shall, too. We’ll be going to our family home in Chislehurst, and Sarah said she thinks we might stay with my father for a while.”

“I see.” He didn’t sound happy at all, matching the way she felt about not seeing him possibly for months.

“Chislehurst will be strangely quiet after the excitement of living in Town,” she added.

“I’m sure it’s a far cry from what goes on here,” he agreed. “Especially recently.”

She nodded. Would he say more about the scene with Lady Arabella?

“You’ve been busy,” she prompted, imagining what must have ensued to warrant the young lady’s outrageous public display. She’d guessed they’d been making the two-backed beast, and Lady Arabella, someone befitting Jasper’s station, someone who had wanted to be his countess, had made assumptions.

“Less busy than you might think,” he said.

She might as well be direct. “I take it you didn’t pick up the gauntlet and offer to marry the lady?”

Jasper halted mid sip of claret.

“Christ, no!” he said. “Married to that one? I think not.”

Julia knew she was being petty to feel such a flush of pleasure over his words. Poor Lady Arabella, led on and then disparaged. She ought to defend her. She tried.

“That one, as you put it, was good enough for you to escort for nearly two weeks and even to take into a garden.”

His eyes rounded. “Did the papers say all that? I suppose it’s true, but the garden was her idea, and did not result in an experience such as you and I shared.”

Julia knew her cheeks had reddened, but there was no helping it.

“Because the lady said no,” she guessed. “As any modest, upstanding female ought to.” So why had she felt helpless to give in?

Jasper laughed, and Julia had the uncomfortable feeling no lady had ever said no to him.

“Because Lady Arabella is waspish and peevish, which erases nearly all of her appeal. Yet in the garden, she hoped to entice me to into basket-making to seal my fate.”

Julia frowned. “I don’t follow.”

“Hm,” he stalled. “Well, as opposed to being careful when,” he coughed, “when swiving, if one behaves rashly, it can result in a babe, which would need—”

“A basket to sleep in. I understand,” she said quickly to stop him further discussing the different types of love-making. She supposed rakes knew a hundred methods and as many silly words for each.

“Despite knowing it was against the pluck, I went outside with her,” he added, “freezing though it was, merely because it was discourteous not to.”

“Discourteous?” Julia prompted. “To dissuade a young woman from trying to get herself ruined?”

He had the grace to look sheepish. “I mean, it would be discourteous of me to rudely turn her down, especially given my reputation. It might have dented her confidence forever!”

She thought he was serious until he started laughing. He was arrogant, to be sure, but not to that extent.

“Naturally, I tried to warm us both with a kiss.”

Julia grimaced before she could stop herself.

This made him smile. “It was nothing, I tell you, like our kisses.”

“Stop,” she begged. “Please don’t compare and don’t speak of us in the same breath.”

His expression grew serious. “You’re quite correct, but I promise you there’s no comparison. And I did nothing more than kiss her so she could save face. When she understood I wouldn’t step into her trap, she stormed back into the ballroom.”

Julia nodded, emotions warring in her as to why he would do more with her than with Arabella. Should she be flattered or offended?

“But that’s ancient history,” he reminded her, “compared to what happened the other night.”

“It was ugly,” Julia agreed.

“It was humiliating for all involved.” He sighed. “I offered to escort her again so she could give me a public redress and repair