Last Dance in London (Rakes on the Run #1) - Sydney Jane Baily Page 0,92

I shall no longer be held responsible.”

Thus, instead of going inside, Mrs. Zebodar marched off down one side of Hanover Square.

“Will she be all right?” Jasper asked, thinking to send Rigley to accompany her.

“She’ll be fine,” Julia said. “She lives in the next street and knows everyone in every house between here and there. Regardless, I cannot let you think the worst. I found that brooch upon the floor.”

He considered this. “You should have tried to discover its owner or, at the least, turned it into our host. It doesn’t really matter how you acquired it. It seems you intended to keep it.”

She hung her head and looked adorable. Moreover, some of his anger flitted away, knowing she hadn’t gone prowling around Wellesley or his wife’s or even his mistress’s bedchambers.

“I won’t always be there to protect you,” he said finally, thinking about what was really bothering him.

“No,” she countered with her usual spirit, “sometimes you’re there to make a chop into a stew and get in my way.”

In a flash, Jasper wanted to roar and tear his hair out.

“May I suggest you hurry inside before I thrash some sense into you,” he all but growled, “and I’ll start with my palm across your pert backside.”

She paled in the light of a Hanover Square oil lamp. But she seemed to get the message, for she nodded and turned to go. Then he remembered something. Much as it pained him to think of not seeing her around Town, the notion of her being tucked away safely in Chislehurst appealed to him.

“If I do not encounter you again before you leave, I wish you a pleasant Twelvetide in Chislehurst.”

“Our plans have changed,” Julia said, “my sister and I are going to Lady Macroun’s house party. It’s in Great Oakley.”

“I know where it is,” he said. “And I forbid you to go!”

Chapter Twenty-Seven

“Lord M__’s Grosvenor Square home had two visitors from opposite ends of the social stratum. One can only imagine what trouble he is in with both.”

-The Morning Sun

“I beg your pardon.” Julia mustn’t have heard the earl correctly. “Did you just say you forbid me?”

“Indeed. It would be too tempting for your affliction. Very little supervision. People dripping in extravagant holiday jewels, too many libations causing exceeding merriment and very little caution. In short, a disaster. You would never make it back to London except in chains for a trial.”

Rendered almost speechless, she finally spluttered, “You are in no position to lecture or attempt to control me, sir.”

He shrugged. “Perhaps not. I am curious, Julia,” he said, his use of her name making shivers run up and down her spine, and not from the chilly December evening. “How badly do you want your ring back?”

She gasped. “Why?”

“Because I have it, and I’ll tell you the entire sordid story of where it went and how it came to be in my possession.”

“Why didn’t you say anything earlier?” she asked, hardly able to believe his words.

Withdrawing his flask of brandy from his pocket, he offered it to her. Only because of the chill, she accepted and took a drink before handing it back, watching him take a healthy swallow.

“The right time didn’t come up,” Jasper said at last, and she had a feeling he’d been waiting to tell her when he could make the most use of it. “Will you come back with me to my home?” he asked. “Your sister probably thinks you’re still in Mrs. Zebodar’s company.”

Julia’s pulse quickened, imagining how easily she could give in and what would await her if she did. Even then, he stroked the side of her face, and it was as if he were stroking her elsewhere. In truth, she wanted to go with him and let him touch her body, and this time, enter her. Already feeling damp between her legs, it would take almost more fortitude than she had to deny them both.

“Do you mean to say, sir, I must go to your bed in order to receive my ring?”

She watched the play of expressions cross his face. Awareness, perhaps shame, then determination as his visage slipped into the well-known mask of a devilish libertine.

“It wouldn’t be the worst bargain ever made. For either of us.”

Sarah would want her to put him in his place.

“It would make me feel used,” Julia said, still watching carefully to see if it caused him the tiniest pang.

Apparently, it did.

He grimaced, then he swore in a most ungentlemanly way.

“Very well. We shan’t enjoy ourselves if you’re going