Behind the Rake's Wicked Wager - By Sarah Mallory Page 0,63

had a profound effect on everyone. Even before you had finished the cotillion Lady Horsham and Mrs Bray-Tillotson came up to speak to me, and I have received no more than a nod from either of them before.’ She took Susannah’s arm and led her into the morning room on the ground floor, where candles burned and the fire had been built up for their return. ‘And then to join Mr Barnabus in escorting us to supper. Why, even Mrs Farthing and her cronies could not quite snub us after that!’

‘No’ Susannah moved towards the fire to warm her hands. ‘His lordship was most accommodating.’

‘Indeed he was. I think he must regret letting slip our secret.’

‘He maintains he said nothing.’

‘Well then, it was even more considerate of him to give us so much of his time tonight.’

It was clear to Susannah that her aunt had been very anxious about their reception at the ball and her relief now took the form of continuous chatter. Susannah let it wash over her for a few minutes before making her excuses and fleeing to her bedroom.

She was obliged to be grateful for the viscount’s attentions but she would have preferred a simple apology. In that he was no different from most men, so arrogant that he would not admit he had been at fault, that he had made known her connection with Florence House. His refusal to do so had quite spoiled her evening. Jasper was a good dancer and in other circumstances she would have revelled in standing up with him for the cotillion, holding his hands, laughing up into his face, but his perfidy hung between them like a cloud. She had kept her smile in place, concentrating on the intricacies of the dance and determined not to allow her anger to be visible to the constantly changing partners, but it had been difficult.

The viscount had been most attentive at supper, too. Outwardly Susannah had been serene and smiling, but he had not been deceived, and once Dorcas had undressed her, brushed out her hair and departed, Susannah slipped between the sheets and relived her brief, final meeting with the viscount.

They had been waiting for their cloaks when Jasper came up to take his leave. He had taken advantage of the noisy, bustling chatter to speak to her alone.

‘You will not cry friends with me?’

‘I am, of course, grateful for what you have done tonight, my lord...’

‘Well that is something, I suppose.’ He took her hand. ‘I have much ground to make up, but I will come about, Susannah, believe me.’

But, of course, she could not believe him. She could not trust him ever again.

* * *

When Jasper awoke the following morning his first conscious thought was of Susannah Prentess. How she had ripped up at him when she thought he had broken his word to her. She had looked quite magnificent, those hazel eyes flashing with emerald-green sparks of anger. It would take time and patience to convince her he had not been to blame but it would be worth it. For the present he hoped he had deflected some of the disapproval away from her—surely the attentions of a viscount would count for something with the Bath harpies.

He jumped out of bed and rang the bell. He was eager to see Susannah again—it surprised him a little to realise how much he wanted to see her—but he must allow her a day or two. At present she was too angry to listen to reasoned argument. There was plenty to do. He had letters to write to his man of business, and he and Gerald had discussed plans for a riding party with Charles Camerton and a few of the other gentlemen of their acquaintance, so perhaps he should talk to Gerald about that. Still, he might take a walk this morning, and if he should happen to bump into Miss Prentess, well....

* * *

He made his way to the Pump Room, stopping off on his way to call at the White Hart, where he was told that Mr Camerton was gone away.

‘We are expecting him back in a day or so, though, m’lord,’ said the servant, pocketing the coin Jasper pressed into his hand. ‘He’s left his bags here.’

With an inward shrug Jasper left the inn. His plans to form a riding party must wait, then. He crossed the road to the Pump Room, but a quick tour of the crowded room informed him that Susannah and her aunt