Authors: Theresa Romain

Season for Temptation (19 page)

BOOK: Season for Temptation

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The dance picked up momentum, and Julia smiled at James, then began laughing as they whirled faster. The clasp of her hand tightened in his. Looking down at her elated face and her starry eyes, winking and lovely in the low light, James felt his heart turn over, and he knew that he could never let her marry Sir Stephen.

Julia's whisper broke into his thoughts. “Do you know what I've wanted to do, ever since I came to London?”

Her warm breath heated his face, and his insides felt tight and eager as he replied in the negative. What was her secret desire, hidden for so long?

“To say âhell' in a crowded ballroom,” she whispered, and pulled back delightedly to look at his face. “And I just did! James, I said it in front of all these people, and they didn't even know!”

Once again, the feeling of heated tension broke. James threw back his head and laughed, as much at himself as at Julia. He was such a fool; she had her mind on the dance and nothing more, which was as it should be. “I'm so glad you've realized your heart's desire,” he offered. “I won't tell a soul about the depths of iniquity you've plumbed here in this very ballroom.”

“My heart's desire,” Julia repeated, blinking at him owlishly. All at once she looked much more serious, and she opened her mouth as if to speak again.

James didn't want to travel that line of thought any further. “How are you enjoying the ball so far?” he asked, sounding less nonchalant than he had hoped.

Julia was effectively diverted into a babble of small talk about the grandness of the home and the astounding number of beeswax candles the earl and countess had lit. And, because she was Julia, she told him all about what she'd had for supper and how she hadn't been able to eat nearly as much as she wanted.

“I was too nervous to eat earlier, and I'm ravenous now,” she explained. “But at least I've been dancing enough to avoid Aunt Estella, so she hasn't been able to call me vulgar or inflict any of her horrid advice on me. Although I'm sure I've done quite a few things she'd consider vulgar, without meaning to. Somehow I always do.”

“I can think of one.” James hadn't meant to say it; it slipped out. Damnation. He really must keep better control over himself.

Julia couldn't have looked more stunned if James had actually slapped her in the face. Her eyes were wide and hurt as she asked in a small voice, “Really? What did I do?”

Her expression made James feel like the lowest sort of dog. He wouldn't have hurt her for anything. But since she was asking, and since he'd already said too much, he might as well have it out. “I saw Sir Stephen dance with you twice this evening already.”

Julia's wounded face turned puzzled. “But there's nothing wrong with that. Twice is no scandal, is it?”

“In an etiquette handbook, perhaps not.” James struggled to explain. “It's more the
way
he danced with you. He's been singling you out above all others throughout the evening, in fact.”

His voice became stiff, the I-am-a-viscount voice that his father had always employed to gain instant obedience. James had always hated that voice, but it seemed he'd inherited it anyway. “Just take care that you do not give him the wrong impression and lead him to hope for more than you wish to give.”

Julia stared at him for a long moment, then rolled her eyes. “Oh, please,” she scoffed. “Sir Stephen is a very nice man, but I'm sure he never thinks of me as anything special. See, there he is across the floor now, dancing with Lady Caroline Bradleigh.”

James felt a little calmer at this reply, but he judged it safer to stop talking for now. What did it matter if the man singled Julia out or not? Good heavens, Sir Stephen was exactly the sort of man James and Louisa had plotted together for her to meet.

They whirled in silence for a while, one-two-three, one-two-three, and James became increasingly aware of the curve of Julia's waist beneath his hand. For her part, she seemed unconscious of his inner agitation; in fact, she looked relaxed and happy in his arms, her eyes halfclosed as she gave herself over to the sway of the music. He had never seen anything so beautiful as her joyful face, and his heart was wrung. He had no right, none at all, to hold her or even think of her, yet he wanted nothing else.

The dance finally ended, none too soon, and James led Julia swiftly from the floor. “Now, what can I do for you?” he asked, taking care to keep his voice friendly and polite. “May I take you to speak with a friend, or find your next dance partner?”

“Actually, I'd like something to drink,” Julia confessed. “Well, what I really want is a haunch of pork, but I don't suppose there's one in the saloon. Would you mind getting me some lemonade?”

“Not at all,” he said, bowing over her hand with strict formality. He made his way into the saloon, which he was dismayed to see was damnably crowded as these things always were. He grew increasingly irritable as he was elbowed by a series of young bucks, who all flashed insolent and insincere grins of apology.

Minutes dragged by before he was finally able to shove his way through the mob to gain possession of a glass of lemonade for Julia. By the time he returned to herâwith half the glass sloshed onto the floor due to the jostling of the crowdâhe saw that he was too late. Freddie Pellington had already seized hold of her and found her some sort of beverage. The two were laughing merrily about something, and Julia's smile didn't fade even when James grouchily thrust his hard-won cup at her. “Here is your lemonade; I'm sorry some of it spilled.”

“Oh, that's all right,” she said. “Mr. Pellington has brought me something to drink as well, you see, and it is delightful!”

She shifted the glass to her other hand and accepted the cup from James as well, smiling broadly at both men. “My goodness, I am lucky, aren't I? I know how trying it is to make one's way through the crowd to get hold of something to drink. So I shall save these both and treasure them
immeasurably
.”

She nodded emphatically to punctuate her words, and Pellington, that fool, tittered and copied her lead. “Just so,” he said. “Dashed glad you like it. Special recipe and whatnot.”

James looked at both of them skeptically, but mentally shrugged. Julia seemed a bit off, but perhaps she was just hungry and excited. And Pellington was a harmless enough fellow. There was nothing wrong with him, after all, that a few more pounds of brains wouldn't fix.

Naturally, Pellington led Julia out for the next dance, which James was relieved to see was a country set rather than another waltz. Knowing that no one would be groping Julia for nearly a half hour, he sought a quieter place to think.

He made his way out of the raucous ballroom and into the comparative quiet of the hall outside the library. The blessed silence was punctuated only by the occasional giggle of a private
tÃªte-Ã -tÃªte
behind one of the hall's several closed doors.

He couldn't help thinking of the last time he had been here for a ball, the night he met Louisa. He'd been reeling from his quick summons to London and the weight of his responsibility as the head of his family. A responsibility that had driven him to propose marriage to the first woman who gained his trust and respect, so that he could set up a household with his wife and provide a secure home for his shamed sister and her children.

He'd taken the step of engagement so lightly; it seemed logical at the time. And now his choice seemed a lifetime ago, and the woman he'd chosen had never made it to the altar with him. His best-laid plans had grown stale, his elegant fiancÃ©e was a mystery to him, and his own sense of honorâthe honor that had driven him to protect his familyâwas merely a sham.

Alone with his thoughts, he couldn't deny the truth. He was a dishonorable fool.

He had fallen in love with his fiancÃ©e's sister.

He leaned against the wall and closed his eyes. How could this be? How had he let this happen? He had no answers, but the knowledge of his love for Julia pulsed through him like a heartbeat, inevitable and true. He knew this love, deeply and with certainty, though he'd never allowed himself to realize it before.

How seeing her always made him smile.

How he loved to hear her talk, and make her laugh that lovely, unfettered laugh of hers.

How he grew warm around her, and his thoughts roamed into furtive and passionate places.

Yes, he loved her, and part of him was sorry for it. He'd come into this family both too soon and too late, for his own good and the good of everyone else.

But he would not act with dishonor, even though it riddled his thoughts. He would abide by his engagement to Louisa. He would marry her whenever she was ready, and he would make her as happy as he possibly could. She would never guess the truth. She was a good woman, kind and true, and she deserved as much as he could give her, and more besides.

And Juliaâwell, someday she would marry Sir Stephen Saville, or someone very much like him. Until that time, he had better stay as far away from her as he could, within the bounds of family politeness.

That is, after he checked on her in the ballroom one last time. Just once more . . .

Chapter 20

In Which Pellington's Special Recipe Figures Prominently

James's newfound resolution to keep his distance from Julia lasted for approximately thirty seconds after he reentered the ballroom.

He spotted her immediately, just as Freddie Pellington deposited her, a glass again in her hand, in a chair at the edge of the room. As soon as Pellington turned away, Julia leaned her head back against the wall and shut her eyes.

James's heart seemed to stop with sudden concern. Heedless of the vow he had made to himself in the hallway, and of the masses of people between them, he at once pushed his way over to where she sat.

“Julia, are you all right?” he demanded.

Her eyes opened lazily, and she smiled slowly, a seductive smile that lifted one corner of her mouth and made it dimple. He caught his breath at the sight, and, with all the willpower he could muster, just barely resisted the urge to bend over and kiss her.

“Oh, James,” she breathed. “I'm very tired. But I feel
wonderful
.” Her head lolled to one side, and her eyes drifted closed.

His brows knitted, perplexed, and he leaned closer to her. “Are you sure? You look as if you'reâ”

She hiccupped. Her eyes flew open wide in surprise, and she quickly straightened up and covered her mouth. She hiccupped again.

James drew back, stunned. “You're foxed.”

“I beg your pardon?” Julia said indignantly.
Hic
.

“You're three sheets to the wind. You'reâwell, I'm not sure how one says this to a lady. You're . . . you've . . . you seem to have imbibed excessively of alcoholic beverages.”

“I have not!” Julia answered hotly and just a little too loudly. James shushed her, and she continued in her loud whisper, “I have
not
. I haven't had any alcohol at all. The last thing I drank was the lemonade that you gave me, and those glasses of punch Mr. Pellington gave me before and after our dance.”
Hic
.

Realization dawned on her face, and she gasped, “Oh, Lord, the punch. What was in that punch?” She gaped at the empty glass in her hand and thrust it away from her in mortification.
Hic
. “He said it was a special recipe, didn't he? Oh, dear, this is embarrassing.”
Hic
.

James shook his head, not sure whether to be amused or angry. “Heaven knows what was in that punch, but apparently it was quite spiritous.” He smelled the dregs in the glass in her hand, and recoiled at the powerful scent. “Yes, quite.”

As Julia hiccupped again, looking shocked, James decided to feel amused. Anger could wait until later, when he could get his hands on Freddie Pellington. What had that silly ass been thinking, giving spirits to a lady? James remembered dimly that Pellington had mentioned once giving brandy to a baby, so he supposed he shouldn't be all that surprised. But still, the situation called for quick action.

“We've got to get you home before someone notices your, ah, condition,” he explained, helping Julia to rise. “Are you all right? Can you walk?”

She nodded her assent, but leaned against him bonelessly when he started to move, and he realized they needed to leave the ballroom at once. Making his way with her toward the door, he signaled to a footman and asked to have his carriage brought round.

“Stay here,” he admonished Julia, propping her against a wall. She nodded sleepily.

He looked doubtfully at her lolling head. How were they going to get out of here without anyone noticing her condition? He coaxed, “I will tell your aunt Estella to give you all the breakfast you want in the morning if you can pick your head up and smile normally at everyone who goes by for the next three minutes.”

It was the right thing to say. Instantly Julia's head snapped up, and her eyes flew open. “Do you mean it?”

“Yes, I mean it. Ham, eggs, porridgeâif her cook can make it, you can eat it. Now, stay right here and just nod and smile if anyone speaks to you. I am going to take our leave of Lord and Lady Alleyneham, and I'll leave a message for your aunt.”

She nodded her comprehension, but he still felt skeptical about her ability to hold herself up, and he dispatched his errands with his host and hostess as quickly as he could. He found Lady Irving herself, too, playing whist with friends in the very card room he had left several hours before. Her bright violet turban was upended on the table next to her to hold her winnings, denuded of its plumes, which she had stuck down into her bodice for safekeeping.

On receiving his assurance that Julia was “just tired,” she nodded distractedly and said she would be home later, if he would just send the carriage back for her. He left the room accompanied by her gleeful shouts, her friends' groans, and the bobbing of those blasted plumes as she reached forward to rake in another pile of winnings and, crowing with triumph, drop them coin by coin into the turban.

Swiftly, he made his way back to Julia, finding her just as he had left her. “I was
wonderful
,” she assured him, wobbling slightly as she pushed herself upright, away from the wall. “I smiled at
everyone
and no one suspected a
thing
.”

“That's excellent,” he soothed, and retrieving her wrap from a waiting servant, he led her away from the crowds and out into the blessed coolness and quiet of the night air. The sounds of gaiety receded behind them as they left the house, and the slam of the carriage door shut them into a silent world.

James breathed a sigh of relief at their just-in-time exit from the party before becoming uncomfortably aware that, despite his vow to keep his distance, he was alone with Julia.

In a closed carriage.

At night.

And she was tipsy.

Oh, Lord.

BOOK: Season for Temptation

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