had specialized in belches on demand. Who would have thought they’d be so useful, years on?
Everyone in the vicinity turned to him, surprised. No—strike that. Thaddeus glanced up and then went back to eating smoked haddock. Of course, he had been party to many a self-induced belch when they were schoolboys.
Viola was staring straight down at her plate, her lips tightly pressed together. That wouldn’t do.
He reached back and grabbed his cup of cold tea and held it high. “Let’s drink to the duke’s health! Nothing better than a little tipple in the morning!”
He realized suddenly that most of the room was male—since married ladies were allowed to take breakfast on a tray in their beds—and they agreed with him. A number of narrow glances toward the footmen suggested that they were taking affront at not being offered a stronger libation than tea.
“What a fraud,” Betsy muttered, under her breath, but he heard her.
Briefly he considered dumping the tea on her instead of her sister—but no. Viola needed a shock, no matter how much he’d like to see Betsy’s bosom drenched. Other women flaunted their assets but Betsy hid hers from view.
Not realizing, obviously, that it only made her more enticing.
“We should have a toast,” he said, lurching again, and then falling back against Betsy’s chair in hopes of exasperating her.
He hoisted the teacup in the air and bellowed, “To Lady Tallow and her talent for . . .” He let silence hang in the air just long enough so that all the men who had succumbed to her obvious charms would wonder. “. . . gossip!”
As he brought the cup to his lips, he pretended to slip sideways, flinging the tea in a graceful arc so that it coursed directly down Viola’s neck and then completed its arc by splashing over Lady Tallow.
Viola reacted to cold tea on her neck with a squeal, jumping to her feet, which knocked Jeremy to the side . . . allowing him to slump into Betsy’s lap.
“Oh, hello,” he said, bracing his elbow on the table so he didn’t crush her. His legs sprawled across the floor. “Do I know you?”
Lady Tallow was shrieking; behind them chatter filled the room as if a chicken coop had admitted a fox.
“You don’t even smell like brandy,” Betsy said, not sounding angry. “Why are you bothering?”
Jeremy shrugged.
“That was very clumsy, Lord Jeremy,” Viola said, her cheeks pink with indignation. She turned and marched out of the room, and he was gratified to notice that she didn’t run, even when hailed by a number of guests on the way out of the room.
Apparently, cold water to the back of the neck was as effective for her as it was for him when it came to preventing vomiting.
“Do I have to get up?” he asked Betsy. “Your lap is remarkably soft.”
“I’m about to dump my tea on you, and it’s hot rather than cold.”
Her expression was rather odd; if he had to guess, he’d say that she didn’t mind the fact he was sprawled on top of her.
Most of the Wildes had blue eyes. It was part of their charm: They were a pack of beautiful people, tall and athletic, with aristocratic cheekbones and the rest of it. Betsy’s eyes were darker blue than her brothers’.
“Very well,” Jeremy said, hoisting himself back onto his feet. “I should make my apologies to Lady Tallow.”
“You needn’t bother,” the lady said acidly. She was patting her bosom with a linen napkin while a footman hovered with an additional stack. “You, sir, are a reprobate who has no place in polite society! To this point, we have excused your disgraceful behavior due to your birth and your grievous circumstances, but no gentleman acts the drunken lout at breakfast.”
“Only in the evening?” Jeremy asked curiously.
“What?”
“Are we gentlemen allowed to be drunken louts in the evening?” he clarified to Lady Tallow. “I gather you make exceptions for me at one time of day but not another.”
“In the normal course of events, no. Only those who have sacrificed their entire platoon are allowed such leniency.” The lady’s voice rose. “We make exceptions for—for those men, though thankfully, there are not many. Most English gentlemen put their soldiers’ safety above their own.”
The words struck him like a blow, and for a second the world rocked around him. Suddenly, in the corner of his eye, the great silver escutcheon on the sideboard began sparking light as if it were on fire.
He clenched his teeth and focused on