“I am assured that there is an abundance of roast lamb and more than enough tarts made with fruits grown in my very own glasshouse.”
When all the ladies partnered up with escorts, Noel headed the procession into the dining room.
During dinner, the conversation moved easily from one topic to another, there wasn’t too much disagreement over political policy, and the food was, as he’d expected, excellent.
“This is my third serving of buttered roast artichokes,” Jess said, helping herself to more of the vegetables. “I advise everyone to take what they want before I decimate the entire platter.”
“My cook can always make more,” Noel said. “He’ll ask for an increase in pay if he knows how much we’ve enjoyed his dishes.” He shrugged. “A worthwhile expense.”
“Don’t mistake me, it’s an excellent preparation, but the artichokes themselves are at their peak.”
“They’re from Carriford’s garden,” he said.
“Give a raise to your gardener, too. The meat of the artichokes is . . .” She seemed to search for the right word. “Luscious. And in the silky butter sauce . . .” Her eyes closed and she licked her lips.
He couldn’t look away. Wouldn’t have been able to even if the other guests suddenly began throwing plates and glasses against the walls.
For the first time, he resented the presence of the Union. Hell, he resented everyone who wasn’t her. This dinner would be far better if it was only the two of them, using their fingers instead of silverware, licking and nibbling and feasting on food and each other.
Conversation moved on, but he barely attended to a single word. He couldn’t stop picturing what it would be like to take an intimate supper with Jess, plying her with delicacies made from his own estate’s garden, watching her rapture from each dish, before taking her to bed and pleasuring her for hours. Then summoning another meal and making love to her until the sun rose.
Dinner ended, and the ladies retired to the drawing room to leave the men to their postprandial tobacco and spirits.
He rose to pour himself a stiff drink, and McCameron met him at the sideboard.
“Never seen you do that before,” his friend noted.
Noel lifted his eyebrow. “I’m fairly certain you’ve seen me help myself to a whiskey.”
“The whiskey in your hand isn’t an uncommon sight,” McCameron said, “but I’ve never seen you watch a woman leave a room before.”
“Women make a far more appealing sight than a room full of boorish dolts,” he said offhandedly.
“I didn’t say you watched the women, I said you watched a woman.” His friend crossed his arms over his chest. “Trying to bed her? Is that what she’s doing here?”
The question did not seem to be given hostilely. McCameron seemed genuinely interested.
“I put her in the Gillyflower Room.” Noel sipped at his drink.
McCameron gave a small grunt of understanding, because he’d been to Carriford enough to realize the distance between the Gillyflower Room and Noel’s own chambers.
“And yet you watched her leave the room,” his friend said. “Watched her like a prowling tiger eyeing a doe.”
“Do tigers eat deer?”
“For the sake of argument, let’s say that they do.”
Evenly, Noel said, “I’d tear the fucking world apart for a chance to share her bed.”
“Might not come to that. Given the way she stared at you all night.”
Noel’s entire body tightened, yet he managed to drawl, “And what way was that?”
McCameron’s grin was sly. “As if the doe was exceptionally eager to be devoured.”
Chapter 19
Jess pushed back the bed linens and sat up. She ought to be asleep, but there had been a honey-soaked pastry served with dinner’s final course, the taste of which haunted her even hours after retiring to bed.
Easier to focus on the honey’s flavor rather than Noel, asleep somewhere in this beautiful house.
He’d picked this room for her. The walls were covered in hand-painted wallpaper, and while the bed was made of dark chestnut wood, it had been carved into elegant gothic designs that made it seem like a vessel bound for the shores of a fairy kingdom.
Any lady would be happy to have such a room for her bedchamber. Jess was no lady, but she loved the space, and her heart softened to think of Noel selecting it specifically so she’d enjoy it.
He had watched her throughout the dinner and afterward, and there had been dark need in his voice as he’d wished her good night at the conclusion of the evening.