Page 65

“Tell me, Lady Amelia,” he said conversationally, “what color is it today?”

“Your cheek?” she asked with some surprise.

“Indeed. Bruises tend to look worse as they age, have you noticed? Yesterday it was quite purple, almost regally so, with a hint of blue in it. I haven’t checked in the mirror lately.” He turned his head to offer her a better view. “Is it still as attractive?”

Her eyes widened, and for a moment she seemed not to know what to say. Jack wondered if she was unused to men flirting with her. Shame on Wyndham. He had done her a great disservice.

“Er, no,” she replied. “I would not call it attractive.”

He laughed. “No mincing words for you, eh?”

“I’m afraid those blue undertones of which you were so proud have gone a bit green.”

He leaned in with a warm smile. “To match my eyes?”

“No,” she said, seemingly immune to his charms, “not with the purple overlaying it. It looks quite horrible.”

“Purple mixed with green makes…?”

“Quite a mess.”

Jack laughed again. “You are charming, Lady Amelia. But I am sure your fiancé tells you that on every possible occasion.”

She did not reply. Not that she could; her only possible answers were yes, which would reveal her conceit, or no, which would reveal Wyndham’s negligence. Neither was what a lady wished to show to the world.

“Do you await him here?” he asked, thinking to himself that it was time to end the conversation. Lady Amelia was charming, and he could not deny a certain level of entertainment that came from making her acquaintance without Wyndham’s knowledge, but he was still a bit wound up inside, and he was looking forward to time out of doors.

“No, I just—” She cleared her throat. “I am here to see Miss Eversleigh.”

Grace?

And who was to say that a man could not acquire a bit of fresh air in a drawing room? One had only to crack open a window.

“Have you met Miss Eversleigh?” Lady Amelia asked.

“Indeed I have. She is most lovely.”

“Yes.” There was a pause, just long enough for Jack to wonder at it. “She is universally admired,” Lady Amelia finished.

Jack thought about making trouble for Wyndham. A simple, murmured, It must be difficult for you, with so beautiful a lady in residence here at Belgrave, would go a long way. But it would make equal trouble for Grace, which he was not prepared to do. And so instead he chose the bland and boring: “Are you and Miss Eversleigh acquaintances?”

“Yes. I mean, no. More than that, I should say. I have known Grace since childhood. She is most friendly with my elder sister.”

“And surely with you, as well.”

“Of course.” Lady Amelia acceded. “But more so with my sister. They are of an age, you see.”

“Ah, the plight of the younger sibling,” he murmured.

“You share the experience?”

“Not at all,” he said with a grin. “I was the one ignoring the hangers-on.” He thought back to his days with the Audleys. Edward had been but six months younger, and Arthur a mere eighteen months after that. Poor Arthur had been left out of any number of escapades, and yet wasn’t it interesting—it was Arthur with whom he had ultimately formed the strongest bond.

Arthur had been uncommonly perceptive. They shared that. Jack had always been good at reading people. He’d had to. Sometimes it was his only means of gathering information. But as a boy he’d viewed Arthur as an annoying little whelp; it wasn’t until they were both students at Portora Royal that he realized that Arthur saw everything, too.

And although he had never come out and said it, Jack knew that he’d seen everything in him as well.

But he refused to grow maudlin. Not right now, not with a charming lady for company and the promise of another at any moment. And so he pushed more happy thoughts of Arthur to the forefront of his mind and said, “I was the eldest of the brood. A fortuitous position, I think. I should have been most unhappy not to have been in charge.”