Last Dance in London (Rakes on the Run #1) - Sydney Jane Baily Page 0,78

darted a questioning glance at Jasper, and then nodded as if it made sense.

Julia nodded back at him while Jasper digested the harsh annihilation of his virile character.

“Either the babe in question is actually yours,” Julia said to the man, “or it belongs to another, but not to the Earl of Marshfield. I’m sorry to say Lady Neville must be lying, perhaps to protect someone else. Or perhaps simply to test your love for her.”

Silence met her words. Jasper knew he’d best keep his mouth shut while Neville pondered. No point in defending his manliness or his skilled abilities to the cuckolded husband. But it grated on his pride all the same.

After a moment, Neville looked past Julia, catching Jasper’s gaze.

“Man-to-man, is my wife carrying your child?”

Jasper was pleased to answer, “I promise you, with the honor of my forefathers, my earldom, king and country, she is not.”

Lord Neville nodded again and looked very sad, even sparing a pitying look at Jasper, which he didn’t appreciate. In fact, he couldn’t help returning with a pitying glance of his own.

Watching the man leave wordlessly, he hoped never to find himself in a similar situation, in love with someone who so cold-heartedly betrayed him. On the other hand, Jasper fervently wished he had never touched Lady Neville or any other man’s wife.

JULIA HAD REPAID HER debt to the earl, and she’d done so by a furlong.

At the same time, she had felt the slap of reality when listening by the open dining room door. Jasper had casually and carelessly slept with another man’s wife. All her pleasant thoughts of him as chivalrous and kind had vanished in an instant.

“Thank you for that,” he said, smoothing his jacket and tugging at his coat sleeves, probably not realizing how his mussed hair and battered face ruined his perfect appearance. “A clever defense, if a little embarrassing.”

Julia lifted a shoulder in dismissal, but a question came springing to her lips.

“Are you the babe’s father?”

“No,” he insisted.

“Seriously,” she said. “Please do not give me all that king and country nonsense.”

“I meant every word,” he said evenly.

“Then you didn’t make love to his wife?” She held her breath, hoping he said no just as assuredly.

“Yes, in a manner, but not so she could become with child. I promise you it’s the truth.”

In a manner! Julia didn’t need to hear the details.

“Thank you for dinner. I had best be returning home before my sister starts to worry.”

He gave her a long look as if he would say more, but really, what else could he say? She knew what he was, and still, she’d willingly taken every step along the path to where she now stood. Yet at that moment, she realized her obsession had to end. What if she were to become enceinte despite his practiced methods?

After a moment, he turned to his butler, who had remained in the foyer, practically melded into the wall plaster during the entire imbroglio.

“Miss Sudbury’s mantle, Mr. Greer, and please make sure a hackney is out front.”

“Yes, sir.”

After a last glance at him before she left, Julia added, “You ought to apply a poultice to your eye.”

“A poultice of what, Doctor Sudbury?” He gave her a crooked smile, as if this were no more serious than playing ducks and drakes or a game of bagatelle.

Jasper’s problems were his own, mostly self-inflicted ones at that, and he would have to deal with them by himself.

“Having never been around such behavior before, sir, I haven’t a clue.” She let him drape her mantle around her shoulders before stepping out into the cold night.

HUMMING TO HERSELF, Julia let her sister’s maid dress her hair for an upcoming dinner party. She could hardly recall to whose home she was going. Sarah was coming, and they each would be assigned partners. Regardless, she was determined to get another bauble tonight because soon the nobility would vacate Town, taking many of their extraneous sparklers with them. When the wealthy attended country parties over the Twelvetide, they would be as festooned as they were in London.

It had been a week since “the incident,” as she thought of the dinner at Jasper’s home on Grosvenor Square. Having been prepared for whatever might follow their meal — except for what actually happened — she’d expected to be walking around as an experienced woman at last.

Instead, she couldn’t dismiss the notion of him blithely having an affaire de coeur with Lady Neville, even if his coeur hadn’t played much part compared to