remarks seemed to fit.
“I had hoped to find you here one of the past few nights,” Stonehaven commented, interrupting her jumbled thoughts.
“I am not quite that eager a gambler.”
“Neither am I. I came each night in the hopes of finding you.”
“Flatterer.” Julia flashed him an arch glance.
“No. ’Tis true. I am quite shameless.”
“A shocking flirt is more like it.”
“You wound me.” He put on an air of mock hurt.
“As if you did not know…”
“’Tis no flirtation to say I have been searching for you every night since we met. Ask any of my friends. They will tell you that I have shirked my social obligations dreadfully. I cried off from going to the opera two nights ago, and yesterday I stayed only fifteen minutes at Lady Abersham’s soiree.”
“All because of me?” She arched a brow. “I suppose it had nothing to do with boredom.”
He chuckled. “Perhaps that did motivate my departure somewhat.”
“Deceiver. I am, in short, a handy excuse.”
“Never that, I assure you. Rather, I think, your absence is the cause of my boredom.”
Julia laughed. “You are a clever man with words, Lord Sto—I mean, Deverel.”
“No cleverer than you,” he returned.
“Oh, dear.” Julia made a face. “No fate worse than being termed a ‘clever’ woman.”
“Indeed?”
“Yes. I find there is little that cools a man’s ardor faster than discovering that a woman has a mind.”
“Perhaps some men.” He looked down into her face with a light in his eyes that sent tendrils of heat curling through Julia. He stopped, pulling her to a halt, with him. Lifting his hand, he stroked his knuckles lightly down her cheek. “Personally, I find that wit makes a beautiful face twice as alluring.”
“Indeed,” Julia answered breathlessly. She discovered that her vaunted wits had deserted her. She could only stare up into his dark eyes, every nerve in her body alive.
Softly, with his forefinger, he traced the curve of her bottom lip. “I would like to kiss you right here on the street, but I am afraid that, if I do, I will not be able to stop.”
The sound of his husky voice, the touch of his finger, faintly rough against her tender flesh, were enough to make Julia weak in the knees. She tried to pull her thoughts back together, but for a moment the best she could manage, it seemed, was to keep breathing.
“I wouldn’t mind,” she said honestly, then stopped, appalled, as she realized what had slipped out of her mouth. She shook her head, stepping back.
To her surprise, Stonehaven chuckled. “Good gad, my girl, a little more of that sort of response and we shall find ourselves in a hell of a predicament.”
Julia was sure that she was blushing up to her hairline, and she was grateful for the dark. “I—I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that.”
“I sincerely hope that you did,” he replied, his eyes gleaming. “Unfortunately, however, I cannot act upon it now. Shall we continue on our way?”
He held out his arm, and Julia took it self-consciously. She could not believe that she had said something so bold. It had apparently pleased him, which was good for her campaign, of course, but she found it most upsetting, because it was not anything she had planned. Why had she said that? Surely she could not really have meant it! There was something about this man that brought out the most outrageous things in her.
They continued to a brick cottage, small but attractive, where Stonehaven’s knock was immediately answered by a maid. She greeted Stonehaven with a curtsy and a friendly smile. “The master’s in the music room,” she told them, somewhat unnecessarily, as the laughter and the sound of a piano flowing from that room betrayed the location of the occupants of the house.
Stonehaven handed the maid their outer things and led Julia toward the sound of merriment. Julia stepped into the room, staring with some astonishment and awe at the scene in front of her. A man clad in a hussar’s uniform was sitting before the piano, his fingers nimbly running over the keys. A woman stood beside the piano, holding, to Julia’s amazement, a long, thin cigar in one hand. As Julia stared, she took a puff from it and let the smoke trail lazily out her mouth. There were several other men and women in the room, some standing, some sitting, and on one side of the room, in a small area cleared of furniture, there was even a couple doing some sort of jig. The room buzzed with noise; people were talking in at least two or three different conversations, and one man was trying to sing along with the music. Cigar smoke made the room hazy, and glasses with varying amounts of brown liquid were scattered across every available table.
But what attracted Julia’s attention the most, after her first hasty glance, was the fact that in a chair close to the window sat a man with a woman perched on his lap. The woman’s dress was sheer enough that one could see through it, and when she turned toward the new arrivals, Julia could plainly see the dark brown circles of her nipples. After a brief, disinterested glance, the woman turned back to her companion, and they resumed the long kiss in which they had been engaged when Julia and Stonehaven entered. Julia was sure that her own cheeks were flame red. She glanced hastily away, only to see that in another part of the room another woman sat on another man’s lap. These two were not kissing, as they were both engaged in a boisterous conversation with a man standing beside their chair. However, the man on whose lap the woman sat had one arm looped around her waist, and as Julia watched, he casually slid his hand up the woman’s body and inside the bodice of her low-cut dress, cupping her breast.
Julia swallowed, feeling acutely embarrassed. Was this how she was supposed to act? Her own dress seemed almost prim compared to the attire of the other ladies, whose bosoms seemed ready to pop out of the low necks of their dresses. All of the women were rouged and powdered, and Julia was relatively sure that the guinea gold ringlets of one of them were definitely not her own. Julia realized that her own vision of what a bird of paradise wore was far more conservative than the actuality. She could not look away from the scene, which held a certain bizarre fascination.
One of the women was running her fingers up and down the arm of her companion, who had removed his jacket and was clad only in a shirt. Now and then her fingers strayed to the front of his shirt and even inside the opening at the top to his chest underneath. He seemed to have no objection to this action at all, only paused every now and then to give her a lingering pat on her derriere. The woman whose male companion had cupped her breast showed no inclination to move his hand. Rather, she wiggled on his lap, giggling.
“Stoney!” A man hopped up from a seat near the piano, his face wreathed in smiles. “I say, old man, didn’t expect to see you here tonight. Callie, look! Here’s Stonehaven, come to pay us a call.”
His last words were directed toward the cigar-smoking woman beside the piano, who turned at his words, smiling. When she saw Julia, her eyebrows went up a trifle, and she gave her a quick, assessing look up and down. “Hallo, Dev,” she called across the room and the noise. “It’s about time you thought of your friends. And who is your guest?”
“Allow me to introduce you.” Stonehaven guided Julia across the room to the man and woman. “Miss Nunnelly, I’d like you to meet my good friends. This is the Honorable Alfred Brooks. And Miss Callandra Cooper.” He turned toward Julia. “Miss Jessica Nunnelly.”
The honorable Alfred bowed to Julia, murmuring, “Ravishing. How do you always manage to find the most beautiful females in the city, Dev?”
“Not all the most beautiful ones.” Stonehaven made a polite demurral, bowing toward Alfred’s companion. “You have captured one of the loveliest yourself.”
Callandra simpered