Last Dance in London (Rakes on the Run #1) - Sydney Jane Baily Page 0,86

decided he was going to get somewhere after all. And Julia was going to owe him a debt of gratitude.

Chapter Twenty-Five

“The premiere event of the winter months was held at Apsley House when the Marquess of Wellesley hosted a ball. The marchioness was notably absent, but the host didn’t lack for female company. And shockingly, Lord M__ is now openly escorting the untitled Miss S__. As expected, many noblemen’s daughters gave her the rump.”

-The Morning Post

Dear Miss Sudbury,

May I escort you to the last ball of the year at Apsley House? Lord Wellesley will be hosting. I assume Mrs. Zebodar can accompany us.

Yours truly,

Marshfield

“An invitation?” Sarah remarked. “From the Earl of Marshfield? Does that man have no shame?”

Only then did Julia realize her sister was looking over her shoulder as she read the afternoon mail. Snapping the piece of fine stationery upon her lap, she turned to Sarah who was poised behind the sofa, a book in her hand, making her way past to the better lighting of the wing-back chair by the fire.

“A coveted invitation to an exclusive ball is not shameful,” Julia said, “especially when I’ve all but made myself an outcast.”

Sarah pursed her lips. “I thought he was linked with Lady Violet Rearing at present, and yet he invites you. What do you make of that?” Sarah continued.

Julia’s heart had already sped up accordingly with excitement. “I make of it that you are walking too quietly and snooping dreadfully.”

Sarah frowned and took her seat by the fire. “I had no intention of snooping. I let you open all the mail. It could as easily have been a missive meant for me.”

“From whom? Are you seeing Lord Denbigh again?”

“No,” Sarah insisted. “And all I meant was that your last invitation from the earl was ages ago and suddenly out of the blue, he is sniffing around your skirts once more.”

“That’s a very unpleasant picture you’re painting. Anyway, if you recall I saw him at the Stridewells’ dinner party a few nights ago.”

She’d already told Sarah about the ring fiasco and been duly reprimanded for her terrible handling of it, although she’d skipped over the worst bits of the tale.

“Alone?” Sarah asked.

“Of course not alone,” Julia snapped. “There were other guests at the dinner.”

“I know you weren’t alone with him, you ninny,” Sarah gave it right back to her. “I meant was he alone or escorting his latest prize?”

“The latter.” Julia tried to sound unbothered. “Lady Violet was there. Insipid thing.”

“Is she?” Sarah blinked.

“No, I suppose she’s not. No more so than Lady Arabella.”

“You don’t like seeing him with anyone else,” Sarah guessed, “but you’d best get over that. After all he’s a—”

“A rake, I know! You don’t have to keep reminding me,” Julia said wearily. “Anyway, he left the party without her.”

“And suddenly, he wants to spend time with you again.” Sarah’s tone was mocking.

Julia shrugged, trying to tamp down any enthusiasm already building for another encounter with Jasper. She’d been doing well to avoid him before the Stridewells’ party, having tried desperately to eradicate him from her heart by thinking of him as a licentious monster.

Reminding herself of poor Lord Neville and of Jasper’s flagrant disregard for marital vows, she again successfully cooled her ardor. Calming her heartbeat, she considered. Just because she chose not to give in to his immense draw, it didn’t mean she had to skip the final ball of the year — as long as she kept her emotions under control in his company.

“What impertinence!” Sarah insisted. “I cannot wait to hear how you shall set him down in your response.”

“Oh,” Julia said quietly.

“Oh, indeed!” Sarah said. “Please don’t tell me you’re considering lowering yourself and letting Marshfield into your good graces once more.”

Julia shrugged. “I could lower myself just a little, only to find out what he wants. After all, it’s Apsley House! After the debacle at the Stridewells, I would be lucky to get invited to a public concert at Vauxhall.”

“Apsley House or not, what Marshfield wants is to have his way with you. He didn’t get it before, thanks to me, and that grates on a man like him, so he’s trying for another go round.”

Thank God her sister didn’t know she’d already been alone with the earl since then. Besides, until the fisticuffs in Jasper’s foyer, Julia had been prepared and willing to let him have his wonderful way with her.

“Did you just sigh?” Sarah asked.

“No.”

“I am sure you did. I believe you sighed over the wretched Earl of