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So much for the ton’s habit of husbands and wives not appearing affectionate with each other in public. From their gestures and glances at each other, Rees and Céline clearly disdained such conventions.

Jessamine stumbled in her figure.

“Are you all right?” Cubby’s concerned tone registered.

“Fine, thank you, my mind merely wandered.”

When the dance was over, she didn’t know where to turn. She ought to walk over to Rees and Céline, to greet Megan at least, but her feet remained glued to the parquet floor.

As she was debating what to do, Mr. Marfleet stepped in front of her. “Oh—it’s you. Good evening,” she said, flustered.

“That glad to see me, I see.”

She flushed. “No, it’s not that. You startled me.” Her hand went to her necklace in the automatic gesture she had when she was nervous. Seeing his gaze follow her movement, she snatched her hand away, remembering that in truth, the necklace belonged to him.

“You look very pretty.”

Before she could react to the compliment, he said abruptly, “Would you care to dance?”

Too late she noticed the music beginning was a waltz. She had not thought her first waltz would be danced with him. As she debated, she saw Rees taking Céline onto the dance floor. She would be forced to stand watching them dance arm in arm if she refused Mr. Marfleet.

“Yes,” she said abruptly, but quickly added, “but I’m not very good. I have only just learned the steps.”

He smiled crookedly. “That’s all right, neither am I. I shall endeavor not to tread on your slippers,” he said as he held her hand and led her to the other couples taking their places. She noticed Rees and Céline stood farther down the line.

She flinched as Mr. Marfleet placed his arm around her shoulders, unused to having a gentleman touch her so.

She had been so intent on the similar movements of Rees and Céline, she had forgotten that she must do the same with her partner. Slowly she placed her arm along Mr. Marfleet’s back since he was too tall for her to reach his shoulders. She put her feet in fifth position.

He took her hand in his other in front. In this close embrace, they promenaded behind the other couples in the opening march. For a moment she forgot all about Rees in the awareness of Mr. Marfleet’s hand on her bare shoulder, his other tightly clasping hers.

As soon as the four steps of the march were completed, Mr. Marfleet began the pirouette of the slow waltz. She had no more time to think of Rees and Céline as she concentrated on following with her three pas de bourrées.

Mr. Marfleet next placed his right hand on her waist, and she tensed at the feel of his hand through the thin silk. Now she understood what all the uproar was against the dance. And yet, as the music guided their movements, she felt graceful performing these steps so perfectly synchronized with her partner’s, although they were not simultaneous but alternating, each performing the pirouette and pas de bourrées while the other performed the previous steps. Then they joined right hands, lifting their free arms in a graceful curve.

The tempo quickened, their steps following suit. At times they were encircled in an intimate embrace, at others they were apart performing their little jetés. Her breath hitched as Mr. Marfleet’s body brushed hers.

He was not a faultless dancer and made mistakes at times, as did she, but they were able to rectify and guide each other in the nick of time. By the time the music was over, she was sorry it had ended.

He stepped away from her and bowed. “Thank you, Miss Barry. You are a—”

“If you say flawless dancer, you are an abject liar.”

He chuckled. “Well, you danced it credibly.”

She made a mock curtsy, still feeling breathless from his proximity during many of the steps. “As did you.”

“May I get you some refreshment?”

“I had a glass. I left it on that windowsill. Let me see if it is still there or has been removed by a footman.”

They made their way to where she indicated. Mr. Marfleet handed her the half-empty glass.

“Thank you. Do you not wish to drink anything?”

He remained watching her. “I am fine for the moment.”

She took a sip.

“How have you been?”

“Very well, thank you, and you?” she replied evenly, annoyed that he must be thinking of her indisposition. At least she was not drinking champagne, so he could not comment on
that
.

“I haven’t seen you much lately.”

Her gaze wandered over the crowd. “Despite your mother’s kind invitation, I am still not invited to all the best parties of the ton. I am sure I must be grateful to her for this one. You must extend her my thanks.”

“I’m sure her favor has done little. It’s your company that has done the rest.”

She eyed him over her glass. “La, Mr. Marfleet, is that a compliment?”

His cheeks flushed. “It is only the truth.”

Once again she lifted an edge of her skirt in a mock curtsy. “Thank you, sir. I shall not let it go to my head.”

At that moment she sensed someone approaching her. She turned, and her breath caught. Rees stood in front of her, looking so handsome she felt her loss afresh.

“Good evening, Jessamine. You look beautiful.” His gray eyes crinkled up at the corners and affection shone from their depths. Before she could regain her composure, he turned to Mr. Marfleet. “I hope I am not interrupting.”

“Not at all,” she whispered. Clearing her throat, she made the introductions.

Mr. Marfleet’s brows drew together. “Phillips? Are you Miss Phillips’s brother?”

Rees smiled. “The very one.”

“I’m pleased to make your acquaintance, sir. She has spoken highly of you.”

“She is the best sister one could hope for.”

After a slight pause, Rees said, “If you would permit me, I would like to take Miss Barry away from you for a moment.” He looked at her. “Would you honor me with this dance?”

She stared at him, feeling she could drown in his silvery gaze. With a supreme effort of will, she nodded once, feeling as if she were in a dream where her mind’s commands would not reach her limbs.

He took her hand and led her onto the dance floor. She didn’t even remember to excuse herself from Mr. Marfleet.

The dance was a cotillion. She walked through the steps like an automaton, thankful it was a dance she was familiar with.

“I wanted to compliment you on your season,” Rees said when they came together. “You seem to be taking to London as if you’d been born to it,” he added with a smile.

She smiled faintly. “I would not go so far.”

“Céline says you were riding in the park at the fashionable hour with a very handsome gentleman, looking for all the world like a young lady accustomed to admiration and flattery.”

What else had Céline said about her? “Your wife exaggerates.”

“I think you are being too modest, since Megan backs her claims.”

They moved apart. When the dance brought them back together, he continued. “I wanted to tell you how glad I was. When I said good-bye to you, I never meant to hurt you—yet I knew I was being the worst blackguard—”

It was pity that drove his compliments. She feigned a careless laugh. “Please, Rees, you are the one to exaggerate now. We never had an understanding, and I didn’t know my own heart, if truth be known.”

His gray eyes scanned hers a moment as if to gauge the sincerity of her words. She didn’t let her gaze waver. Finally, he smiled. “I am glad to hear that. You were—and still are—very young. I feared I had tied you down too long for naught. But your success in London reassures me that you will make a good match.” He nodded in the direction they had come from. “The young man you were with. He seems a worthy sort.”

She glanced toward Mr. Marfleet and found him observing them. “Yes, he is,” she said. “He is Sir Geoffrey Marfleet’s younger son,” she couldn’t help adding.

Rees lifted a black eyebrow then chuckled. “Much better than a penniless merchant’s son. You relieve me of all guilt I had been carrying around concerning my treatment of you.”

So, he merely wanted to alleviate his guilt. She kept her smile in place. He would never know how much he’d hurt—and continued to hurt—her.

When they came together again in the dance, he said softly, “I am glad you were able to meet Céline. I hope you feel kindly enough toward us to visit. I know Megan misses you, and I’m being selfish for wanting her to stay with us.” A shadow crossed his features. “I don’t want Céline to be alone when I leave, which is why I’ve asked Megan to remain. I know it is not fair to you since you came together to enjoy the season. Would you not consider staying with them at the town house?”

They drew away, and she had a chance to recover her breath. The hurt she’d experienced at his first remark had transformed into a cold fury, but she vowed not to let it show. She would not be humiliated by him again. All he cared about was Céline. She would be a fool to harbor any notions to the contrary.

When they came together, she managed to look sorrowful. “I’m sorry, Rees, but I cannot leave Lady Bess. She was so kind to invite me to spend the season in London with her. It would be cruel of me to desert her. She was already complaining of how empty the place felt when Megan left.”

“I hope she is not offended with Megan.”

“Not at all,” she hurried to assure him. “She understood perfectly and is happy that you are able to spend a little time with your only sister. But she did grow fond of her while she was there.”

“I’m sorry you cannot stay with us, but I fully understand your obligation to your godmother.”

When they next came together, she asked him about the situation in Belgium.

His eyes took on a worried cast. “Not good. Wellington doesn’t trust Napoleon an inch.”

“I can scarcely believe he would have a hunger for fighting after so many years of campaigning.”

Rees’s mouth tightened. “Once a military commander, always a commander, it seems.”

“I—if . . . if it comes to battle, you aren’t expected to accompany the duke, are you?”

“No, but I hate to think of the chaos in Brussels if people panic. There are so many British there right now—I’m surprised anyone is left here to enjoy the season. They think it’s one grand party.”

Her anger forgotten for the moment, she wished she could relieve his worry. Then she remembered herself. He had Céline for that. When the dance was over, he escorted her back to Mr. Marfleet and bowed over her hand. Straightening, he smiled at her. “Thank
you for the honor. Now, I will leave you in the very capable hands of this young gentleman and hope you continue dancing. I know you will not lack partners.”

A ridiculous urge to cry suddenly beset her. Afraid her lips would tremble if she attempted to speak, she remained silent. But Rees seemed unaware. He turned to Mr. Marfleet and exchanged a few words and then excused himself.

She watched him make his way across the ballroom, straight to Céline.

“How long have you known Miss Phillips’s brother?”

She jumped at Mr. Marfleet’s quiet question. “What? Oh, for years, ever since he and his family moved to our village.”

“You must have been very young.”

She nodded. “But five. Megan and I became fast friends.”

“You care for them very much.”

She wasn’t sure it was a statement or a question. “Yes, our two families are very close. They have a cottage next to the parsonage. His mother has been a widow all these years, and naturally my father—as vicar—and my mother look after her when . . . when Rees has been away.”

He continued looking at her with a steady regard until she felt uncomfortable. Would he discern her feelings? To her ears, her words sounded natural. But she didn’t trust his keen, slate-blue gaze.

To her relief, Mr. St. Leger stepped up to them. “You are finally free. I was hoping I could lead you out in a dance.”

Her eyes widened. “I thought you didn’t dance.”

He smiled lazily. “After seeing you waltz, I have decided an exception to my rule is warranted.”

She accepted at once to escape Mr. Marfleet’s scrutiny and to show Rees that his wishes were already fulfilled—she did not lack dance partners of the first water.

“You are looking ravishing as usual,” Mr. St. Leger said as he led her out.

“Thank you.”

“I see my competition grows stiffer with each ball.”

She fluttered her eyelashes, basking in the look of admiration in his dark-blue eyes. He was tall and broad-shouldered like Rees, and for a moment she could pretend it was he with whom she was dancing. At the very least, they should be quite visible to Rees and Céline.

When the dance ended, he asked her to accompany him in to supper. She agreed but excused herself for a moment to freshen up. She looked around for Megan but saw her with a young gentleman. Jessamine had noticed during the evening that Rees and Céline had been busy introducing her to their many acquaintances.

Jessamine fixed her hair and inspected her gown before leaving the retiring room. As she crossed the carpeted hall silently in her kid slippers, she passed other rooms left open for the guests’ disposal.

Hearing a woman’s soft voice through an open doorway, she paused. “What a sweet young thing she is. I think I could be jealous.” Jessamine hardly dared breathe, recognizing Céline’s voice.

Rees’s low tone, laced with amusement, followed. “No need, my dear. There was never any passion in me for her. Unlike you, who drove me insane the first time I saw you.”

11

R
ees’s low chuckle was swallowed up in silence.

Jessamine brought her hands up to her flaming cheeks, too shocked and humiliated to move.
Dear God
, she prayed,
help me to get
out of here unseen
.

Her feet wouldn’t move. She stared down at them as if she were looking from a great height.

The silence in the next room lengthened, and suddenly she knew. He was kissing her! Her embarrassment grew. What if they should find her here?

She must go! She commanded her feet to move. Finally, as if coming unstuck, she took a step forward. She made it past the doorway, not pausing to look into it, hoping they were not looking her way. Of course they weren’t, locked in an embrace!