village inn. Yes, here in this house. It is a house party and those sorts of liaisons are common enough.” Beatrice held the sophisticated pose for a few seconds longer and then widened her eyes. “I wonder how they manage it. Does one arrange it beforehand, or just knock on the door?”
“We could ask Darwell.” Cecilia was delighted to see her sister’s eyes lit with curiosity again.
“No, we cannot ask Darwell. And that’s another thing. What about maids and valets? When do they know to disappear and where do they go?”
“Do not ask me.” Darwell spoke with disapproval. “I heard you from the other room,” she explained.
Darwell took Cecilia’s brush from her and finished the last of the strokes that kept her hair so lustrous. “Now change the subject. It is not seemly for two young ladies to discuss such goings-on. You would do better to discuss the plant demonstration that Miss Cecilia will give in two days.” She spoke to Cecilia’s reflection in the mirror. “You have only one more day to prepare.”
“Oh, Darwell,” Cecilia moaned. “Why did you remind me? Now I will never be able to fall asleep.”
BEATRICE FINISHED BRAIDING her hair and wished that something as innocent as her talk on Rembrandt’s drawings would keep her from sleep. All she could do when the lights were out and distractions were gone was think about Jess and the way he’d made her feel.
Worst of all was the niggling fear that he might be right, that she would give in to the next man who tempted her.
No, that wasn’t true. She could not imagine lying with anyone but Jess. No other man’s touch had ever made her feel wanton and so irresponsible that nothing mattered but being with him in every way possible.
Of course there had not been any other men, but even when she first saw him from the window she had felt a strong attraction. And that had never ever happened to her before.
There were a hundred reasons why being with him would be wrong, not the least of which was that Jess would think her easy and lose any respect that he might still have for her. And she would lose hers for him, she admitted to herself. She sighed.
And tried to redirect her thoughts by counting the number and placement of old master drawings she had seen this past fortnight.
Chapter Thirty-one
“WHAT THE HELL is wrong with you?” Destry asked.
“Concentrate on what you’re doing,” Jess snapped back. “Or you will land on your ass.”
They were riding the racecourse that Destry and Cecilia had laid out earlier.
“Riding sidesaddle requires a little less concentration than it did yesterday, I’m happy to report,” Destry announced cheerfully. “Besides, I would have to be without any sensibility at all not to sense your foul mood. Even your horse can sense it and I’m at least as smart as he is.”
“Nothing’s wrong.”
“It has nothing to do with drinking to excess and going to bed the other night drunk as two lords, does it?” Destry asked.
Jess grunted back. His headache was fading. No point in pretending that was an excuse.
“I’ve decided your ill humor is about one of two things. Perhaps both. You were not able to win the land from Crenshaw and want another try, or you’re upset about a woman.”
Jess grumbled. It wasn’t the land.
“It’s a shame you didn’t try for Nora Kendrick sooner. Too late now,” Destry babbled on. “She and Belmont are as close as a saddle and a horse. Of course it may not be true love. There’s always that chance.”
“I don’t want a chance at true love, and you know it is not with Nora Kendrick, damn it.” I just want her, he thought. Now, today, maybe tomorrow, but not forever.
They rode for a while until the quiet was broken by the sound of another person on horseback. Lord Crenshaw passed them with no more greeting than a curt glance. Crenshaw was so absorbed in his own thoughts that he did not even seem to notice Destry’s strange position on Jupiter.
“I’m leaving after your race,” Jess said as he watched Crenshaw ride out of sight. “I don’t know why I waited this long. It’s not as though I’ll have another chance to win the land from him and that is all these last two weeks were supposed to be about. My punch to his face last night put paid to that.”
HIS FRIEND WAS not his usual charming self, Destry realized. Jess never drank to excess and