Annette Blair - Scandalous Brides

As soon as they could do so without giving offense, Jack suggested they leave. This time, Nessa offered no resistance. Playing the sparkling, flirtatious woman of the world took more energy than she had expected. Tiring or no, however, it had been a most enjoyable evening— the most enjoyable part being Jack's response to her changed demeanor.

Now, however, would come the real test, she realized as they drove back to Foxhaven House. What excuse would she use to keep Jack from her bed? After chiding him earlier for being tired, she could hardly claim fatigue, and he must know her monthly courses were not due for some time yet. Besides, she had discovered she did not much care for sleeping alone.

Fortunately for her plan, though not for her peace of mind, Jack himself gave her the excuse she needed. “I've some correspondence to attend to in the library, if I can stay awake long enough,” he informed her as they entered the house. “I'll join you upstairs shortly.”

Suddenly wondering whether her plan was as clever as she'd thought, Nessa headed up to her bedchamber alone.

~ ~ ~

JACK POURED HIMSELF a small measure of brandy and propped his feet up on the library desk. His correspondence was fictitious— or, at least, there was none he needed attend to tonight. What he needed to do was think, away from Nessa's intoxicating influence.

What was she up to? She hadn't actually accepted his apology, and clearly still intended to make him pay for the distress he'd caused her. Fair enough, he supposed. But he'd never been one to allow another to control his actions or emotions, and he wasn't about to start now—no matter what he felt for his wife.

Not that he'd admitted those feelings to her yet. Nor would he, while she was playing at this game of hers. Certain words she'd said earlier rankled still. “Contented herself,” indeed! And “rather fond of him.” No, now was not the time to bare his heart to her. That would only give her more ammunition for whatever campaign she was launching to put him in his place.

In fact, he'd do best to keep his distance until he'd figured out her scheme. She had an uncanny ability to cloud his thoughts— particularly in bed. Nor did he believe she'd wish to go long without further “instruction,” as she'd shown herself such an apt and eager pupil. He smiled into the crackling fire.

Yes, he'd wait until she asked him to her bed again. It wouldn't be long, he was certain.

At least, he hoped it wouldn't.

~ ~ ~

OVER THE NEXT few days, however, Jack found it more difficult than he'd anticipated to adhere to his resolve. Nessa persisted in dressing provocatively, though never quite crossing the line into vulgarity. She found some engagement or other for them to attend every single evening, whether it was a card party or simply accompanying others to the theater.

And every single evening was torture, for Nessa was always at her most bewitching— but directing her scintillating smiles and conversation more often toward others than to him. He'd reached the point where even an oblique invitation to join her in bed would have been accepted like a shot— but she continued to behave coyly toward him. More coyly than she appeared to behave toward others, in fact.

More than once he regretted his promise to make no attempts to control her behavior, now that it seemed in dire need of control. Still, he would not break that promise. In fact, it occurred to him that this whole campaign of hers might be an elaborate test of that very promise.

During the day, at least, he was able to find distraction in the House of Lords, where controversy surrounding the impending Corn Bill was mounting. One day when the weather was unexpectedly fine, however, he'd taken his horse instead of the carriage. Riding home by way of Hyde Park Corner, he saw a familiar profile in a high-perch phaeton entering the Park just ahead of him.

Without thinking, he spurred his mount forward. “I bid you good afternoon, my lady. I'd thought to suggest a drive myself when I reached home, but I see you are already engaged.”

Nessa and Sir Lawrence, for it was he driving the phaeton, turned with varying degrees of surprise and alarm.

“Why hello, Jack,” his wife greeted him with one of her bright smiles. “The sunshine was so lovely that I couldn't bear to refuse when Sir Lawrence invited me out. I'd no idea you'd quit your legislative duties so early.”

“Obviously.” Jack couldn't help glowering a bit, if only to enjoy the effect upon Sir Lawrence. To his surprise, however, the young man met his eye squarely, if nervously.

“It seemed most unfair for Lady Foxhaven to be trapped indoors on such a rare winter's afternoon,” he declared, as though defying Jack to contradict him.

Nessa chimed in, “Yes, now that the redecorating is completed, I find time hangs rather heavily on my hands on those days when I have few callers.”

“Indeed.” Why, Jack wondered, did he seem unable to utter more than a single word at a time? Neither his wife nor her young gallant showed signs of guilt, so he'd not give Nessa the satisfaction of displaying any jealousy, however sharply its tooth might bite him.

His taciturnity had an effect upon Sir Lawrence, however. “We were just driving into the Park, my lord,” the stripling all but babbled. “I don't suppose you'd care to accompany us?”

“Thank you. I believe I would.” Turning his horse, he kept pace alongside them. “I wish you'd informed me, my dear, that you've begun to find Town life boring,” he said languidly. “There are several remedies I might suggest.”

He was rewarded by a stare from Nessa and a glare from Sir Lawrence. The latter spoke first. “Lady Foxhaven don't need any more work piled upon her slender shoulders, my lord. Ain't she done enough already, redoing your house from cellar to attic?”

Jack raised his brows. “Have I overworked you, my lady? I must apologize, in that case.”

“Of course not, my lord,” she responded with a distinct twinkle in her eye, reminding him of the Nessa he knew. “I quite enjoyed the task.”

“What else could she say?” muttered Sir Lawrence, almost but not quite under his breath.

Jack kept his eyes on Nessa's. “The truth, I hope. Always.”

She colored slightly and glanced away. “Look! Is that an early crocus?” she asked brightly, pointing off to the side.

Obligingly riding over to investigate, Jack reported that it was. “It would appear that spring is nearly upon us— nearly, but not quite. The sun has gone in, and the breeze grows chill. I suggest we head for home.”

The others agreed— Sir Lawrence reluctantly— and they turned onto the path leading back to the Park gates. Upon reaching Foxhaven House a few minutes later, Jack quickly dismounted, handing his horse over to the waiting groom.

“No need for you to climb down, Sir Lawrence. I can assist my wife to the ground.”

Though he pouted a bit, the young gentleman remained where he was while Nessa exited the carriage into Jack's waiting arms. “I'll see you at the Duke of Clarence's ball tonight, will I not, my lady?” he inquired, looking after her more longingly than he had any right, in Jack's opinion.

“Of course,” she responded lightly. “I'll—we'll be there. Thank you for the drive, Sir Lawrence.”

With a tip of his hat and a final lowering glance at Lord Foxhaven, he shook the reins and departed.

Jack chuckled, forcing down his irritation. At Nessa's indignantly inquiring glance, he sobered a bit. “You're running a risk with that one, madam wife. He's in a fair way to becoming besotted enough to challenge me over some imagined slight. You don't want his blood on your head, I presume.”

“You said that once before, and it's as absurd now as it was then. Sir Lawrence is merely a friend. Besides,” she continued with a bewitching smile, “what makes you so certain you would best him in a duel? Perhaps he's a crack shot.”