Silent Revenge (28 page)

All eyes in the room focused on them as they made their way to where the Duke and Duchess of Collingsworth waited for them.

“You seem to have a habit of bringing a room to a halt when you enter, my lord,” Jessica said to her husband after they passed a small group who parted for them.

Simon smiled. “I think this time I’m not the one stopping the ball, wife. Very few eyes are upon me. And if Baron Cargille doesn’t remove that lecherous grin from his face when he looks at you, he and I will have to have words before long.”

She laughed. A heated warmth spread all through her when Simon covered her hand on his arm and pulled it closer to his body. She felt very secure and smiled confidently as they made their way over to the duke and duchess, near the terrace door.

“You look absolutely ravishing, Countess,” His Grace said, bowing slightly. “Everyone here is in awe.”

“Oh, Jessica,” Melinda said, the look of excitement evident on her face. “All the women are green with envy over your gown. Lillian Crestwall informed Lady Stratmore that she knows for a fact your gown is an exclusive creation by that elusive designer who Madame Lamont has at her disposal. Now everyone is more anxious than ever to find out how to get a design from her.”

Jessica held her breath, praying Simon would not question how she got her design in such short order.

Thankfully, he did not, and talk changed to other, less dangerous topics. As they visited, Jessica noticed Simon made sure he was never more than a hairbreadth away from her. Soon, the Earl and Countess of Burnhaven came to join them, and Jessica smiled as the conversation progressed easily between the six of them.

It was not long, however, before Lord and Lady Pepperlaine joined them, then a Lord Barkley, and the Duke and Duchess of Westlawn, all friends of Simon’s or of His Grace’s. Each, of course, made a point of including her in their conversation, and Jessica was grateful her gloves concealed her damp palms as she glanced from person to person, struggling not to miss anything.

Their group had grown too large. Jessica could not keep up with each mouth that moved. A wave of insecurity washed over her, and she took several deep breaths to steady her nerves.

As if Simon felt her growing panic, he reached for her hand and twined his fingers through hers. She looked up at him.

“They are playing a waltz, my lady,” he said with a warm smile lighting his face. “I’m certain you recall promising the first waltz to me.”

Jessica placed her hand on Simon’s outstretched arm as he excused himself and his wife, then led her out onto the dance floor. He took her in his arms, as he had each night when they’d practiced in the darkness, and with a gentle smile, he led her in the steps that were by now so familiar she could do them without thinking.

She felt the warmth of his hand on her back and marveled at the security that enveloped her. Her hand tightened on the steel muscles spanning his shoulder, and she was engulfed by his strength. She felt safe as long as she was with Simon.

“You seemed uncomfortable just now,” Simon said as they moved across the dance floor. “Why?”

Jessica kept her gaze focused on the easy smile on Simon’s face and followed his lead. It was no different than when they danced at home in the privacy of their own bedroom. “The crowd. There were too many mouths to watch. I couldn’t tell which ones were talking to me.”

He held her a little closer. “I see. I didn’t think of that. I will not let it happen again. Smile, Jesse,” he said, squeezing her hand reassuringly. “The whole of society is watching us, and we wouldn’t want to disappoint them.”

She forced her lips upward. “No, my lord. We wouldn’t want to disappoint them.”

Simon turned her on the dance floor. “Do you know what? I think I prefer dancing with you in our bedroom to dancing here on a crowded dance floor. There are not nearly so many clothes separating us, and I can choose to end the dance whenever I like.”

Jessica looked around to make sure no one was dancing close enough to have overheard her husband.

“Admit it, wife. Don’t you wish the very same thing?”

Jessica felt her cheeks burn with embarrassment. How could he think such thoughts when they were but one mistake away from all of London finding out she could not hear?

“You loved it,” he said, pulling her even closer to him. “I know you did.”

Jessica held her breath while Simon’s touch sent a spattering of tingling pulses racing through her. She knew the look in her eyes mirrored the passion they’d shared last night. “I think you are getting quite bold, my husband.”

“If you don’t want me to kiss you right here, my lovely little wife, with all these people watching, you had better stop looking at my mouth with such longing in your eyes.”

Jessica quickly glanced to the side and swallowed past the lump in her throat. How was it possible for him to read her so well?

She looked up when his hand touched her chin and turned her face. “You shouldn’t touch me so, Simon. Everyone is staring at us.”

“Of course they’re staring. You’re the most beautiful woman in the room.”

“That’s not true. Most of the women are not half so interested in me as they are in you.”

“Really? Do you think so?”

The innocent look on his face was as unexpected as the teasing gleam in his eyes. Both were unfamiliar to her. “Yes. I think when they look at me they wonder what you saw in me to marry me.”

“No, wife. They know exactly what I saw in you, and they are envious because they do not possess it.”

The breath caught in her throat. Did he really mean that? Jessica shook herself. No, she could not let herself think such thoughts for even a moment. She would only get hurt if she did.

Northcote swirled her around one final time and then stopped. The music must have ended, for all the other couples had stepped off the floor. As he led her back to where the Duke and Duchess of Collingsworth waited, Jessica thought that if nothing else, Simon had given her this one fairy-tale evening.

For these few hours, he’d allowed her to feel beautiful and desired and accepted. And he’d not only forced her to face society, he’d demanded that she become a part of it. She could not deny that it was something that still scared her to death. Something she would never have had the courage to do on her own.

She also could not deny that every time he held her, or kissed her, or made love to her, she cared for him a little more.

The power that gave him over her frightened her most.

Chapter 17

S
imon stood to the side, watching Jessica dance the promised waltz with the Earl of Milebanke. Good Lord, but she was lovely. She seemed to float across the dance floor even though the plump, out-of-breath toad holding her in his arms seemed to have a difficult time just keeping step to the music.

An unfamiliar warmth surged through his body, starting deep within his chest and traveling to the tips of his fingers and toes. Blatant desire worked its way to the pit of his stomach and lower, where it swirled to an all-too-familiar ache of need Simon had sworn no woman would ever make him feel again.

He watched the smile on her face broaden at something Milebanke said, and then Simon moved his gaze to where the earl’s beefy hand rested against the graceful curve of Jessica’s slender waist. A violent wave of jealousy smacked him square in the chest.

He’d done nothing all night except fight off randy young bucks and middle-aged philanderers wanting to dance with the radiant young Countess of Northcote. Jessica was like the proverbial ugly duckling who had blossomed into a beautiful swan right before everyone’s eyes. Simon cursed himself for showing the world what was hiding beneath that drab finery.

“She’s doing splendidly, don’t you think?” the Duke of Collingsworth said, handing Simon a glass of brandy.

“I think if the good earl moves his hand one inch lower on her waist, I’m going to call him out.”

Collingsworth answered Simon’s comment with a laugh, then glanced around with a more serious look on his face. “Is she here yet?”

“No.”

“Perhaps she will not come.”

Simon shook his head. “She’ll be here. When have you known Rosalind to pass up an opportunity to set the
ton
on its ear?”

Collingsworth lifted his mouth in a cryptic grin. “You can almost feel the excitement, can’t you? There’s not a soul in the room who hasn’t spent most of his or her time watching you and Jessica to make sure they haven’t missed Rosalind’s arrival.”

Simon’s gaze returned to Jessica. “I haven’t noticed. I’ve been too busy watching that overfed windbag manhandle my wife.”

Collingsworth laughed. “You have nothing to fear, Simon. The dance is over and Milebanke is bringing your wife back to you. Look. He’s so winded he can hardly make it across the floor.”

“By Jove, Northcote,” a puffing Milebanke said, returning Jessica to Simon’s side. “Your wife is the best partner I’ve had for a dance in years. Didn’t stumble over her toes once.”

Simon placed his arm around his wife’s waist and pulled her to him.

“My wife should take lessons from her,” Milebanke continued, wiping big beads of perspiration from his forehead. “She always complains that I cannot follow the beat, but the countess here had no trouble. Just goes to prove, it’s my wife who has no ear for music and not me.”

The Duchess of Collingsworth soon joined them, then Parker Waite, the Marquess of Bedford, and his lovely fiancée, Lady Linquist. Bedford had been a childhood friend of Simon’s and was most eager to offer his congratulations on his recent marriage.

It seemed most of the
ton
was again curious to talk to him and meet his beautiful bride. Before long, the circle of well-wishers surrounding them had grown to a crowd. Simon looked down on Jessica’s pale features and knew it was time to take her away. He reached for her hand and realized from the frightened look in her eyes when she looked at him it was almost too late.

“If you would please excuse us,” he said loud enough for everyone to hear, “I think I would like to have another dance with my wife.”

Simon wrapped his arm around Jessica’s waist and led her to the dance floor without a backward glance. “I almost waited too long, didn’t I?” he asked, holding her close.

He loved the feel of her in his arms. He loved looking into her eyes and seeing the emotions she tried to hide. He loved being this close to her. Sometimes that scared him to death.

“Almost,” she replied, breathing a sigh that shuddered beneath his hand at her back. “You have a great many friends who want to welcome you back. You must have been well liked before you left.”

“As well as most, I suppose,” he answered, shrugging away the compliment.

“That’s not what people say.”

Simon raised his eyebrows and gave her a questioning look. “And just what do you see, Jesse? What new information and tales of scandal are you reading on people’s lips tonight?”

“Much, my lord,” she said with a smile on her face. “The
ton
is busy talking about both of us.”

Simon laughed. “And what are they saying about you, my lady?”

She lowered her gaze, and Simon watched with interest the warm, rosy glow that covered her cheeks.

“Well, for the most part,” she said, “they are impressed with my gown. I dare say, I have passed their scrutiny according to fashion, but I’m sure it’s mostly because I’m dressed so differently from how they are used to seeing me.”

“No, my lady. They are impressed because you are beautiful and there is no one who can compare to you.”

Simon smiled when her cheeks glowed even brighter.

“I think, however, I will
not
repeat much of what I have read on people’s lips concerning you, husband. I fear your head is far too large already, and I would not want to give you a false sense of greatness that I would just have to deflate later on.”

Simon threw his head back and laughed. “What a saucy little wench you have become.”

“I beg your pardon, sir, but I have always been the picture of politeness and decorum. Hardly saucy.”

“Very well, my perfectly decorous little wench. What else have they said about us? I would like to know.”

“Very well. If you insist. According to Lady Andover, you have always been far too serious, even when you were young, and she cannot get over that she has seen you smile at least half a dozen times already tonight.”

“Oh, really?” he said with a chuckle.

“Yes. And dear Lady Dewitt, who hears hardly more than I, thinks you a besotted young fool and that the looks you are giving me are simply scandalous.”

“Does she?” Simon looked over at the dowager countess sitting in a chair against the wall and graced her with one of his most magnificent smiles. “The poor old woman must be all of ninety years old. I wonder what she’d think if I kissed you right here on the dance floor?”

“Don’t you dare. We have caused enough talk for one evening. I do not want to add to their natter.”

“I think we have not given the
ton
nearly enough excitement, wife. I think I would like nothing more than to hold you close and kiss you.”