His Wicked Kiss Part 42

Every man had his limits, and Jack Knight didn't dance.

He had come to this silly ball, had he not? And the routs and the at-homes and the card parties and everything else? Surely he had done his duty. He hated to disappoint her, especially now, but he had made no promises about partic.i.p.ating in this fool's art. Having come this far to gain the ton's respect, he was not about to go out there and make a horse's a.r.s.e of himself.

Not even for Eden.

He could not, would not dance, never had, never would, and in point of fact would rather gouge his own eye out with a fish fork than stand up with all the other prancing idiots and march around in their daft little patterns. Dancing was a silly practice too far beneath him for words, and he was sure that most of his brothers would have backed him up on this.

Except for Alec, ever a ruling prince of Society. He spotted his youngest brother sauntering by, and was inspired to foist Eden off on him. Alec's wife, Becky, was too pregnant to dance, after all. He could see her sitting by the wall.

"Jack?" Eden persisted.

"Well, the thing of it is, dear-"

"You don't dance, do you?" she cried.

Thankfully, she looked more amused than vexed-at first.

"I can't," he said, praying she would be his angel and understand.

"Oh, you big grumpy lion. You're just being shy." She gave his face a caress. "Come on, don't be a killjoy."

"Alec!" he called as his brother drifted by.

The golden-haired youngest of the Knight brothers came bounding over with a sunny grin. "Good evening people! Don't you look beautiful, my dear lady! Fantastic gown! Let me see you." He grabbed Eden's hand and twirled her around, letting her show off her gown. "Sister, I hereby declare you a diamond of the first water."

She curtsied low to him, laughing. "Thank you, Lord Alec. Now would you please tell your great lug of a brother to dance with me? He's trying to wriggle out of it."

"What's this? Cur? Knave? Not dancing? What cruelty is this? It's her first ball."

"Yes, I know, but-" His voice broke off. Can't was not a word that often reared its ugly head in Jack's vocabulary.

Alec scowled at him, but picked up on his pleading look and took charge, tucking Eden's hand into the crook of his arm. "My dear, new sister, you must come and dance with me. Stand in for me in Becky's stead, won't you? You and I shall never be wallflowers."

Eden gave Jack a sulky look, but she was obviously grateful not to be left out of the dancing. "Are you sure Becky won't mind?"

"Quite the opposite. She'd wring my neck if I let you stand here frowning next to him. She quite adores you, you know."

"Likewise." She waved to her big-bellied sister-in-law, who was sitting by the wall.

Becky waved back, and Alec blew his wife a kiss.

"Don't worry," Alec added, patting Eden's hand. "When Jack sees how he's missing out on all the fun, he'll change his mind."

Don't hold your breath, Jack thought, but he nodded his encouragement for them to go on without him. "Enjoy."

"Humph," Eden said.

"Have a drink, old boy," his roguish brother added as he led Eden away. "It'll dull your inhibitions."

"I like my inhibitions, thank you very much."

Alec turned back to him one more time, and pointed to another quarter of the ballroom. "Damien's trying to get your attention."

Jack looked over in the direction Alec had indicated and saw the stern elder twin staring at him. Damien summoned Jack with a flick of his white-gloved fingers. Jack sent him a nod, glad for the reprieve.

As the dancing got underway, Jack struck out to go around the crowd to join the no-nonsense colonel.

Quite the opposite of Alec, with Damien, there was no such thing as small talk.

"I spoke with Wellington," Damien murmured in his ear when Jack joined him with a look of question. "His hands are tied as far as helping you recruit, but he said if you run into trouble with Whitehall, he'll do what he can to help you get out of it."

"That is encouraging. Well done, brother."

They spoke for a few minutes in greater detail about Damien's call on the Iron Duke, then Damien mentioned that everything was ready for Eden's visit. The guest apartment in the Winterleys' Town residence was waiting to receive her.

Jack was bursting to tell Damien the news about the child, but he and Eden had wanted to wait until everyone was together to announce it to the whole family at once.

Keeping the secret of his mission was easy compared to his eagerness to shout this sweeter news from the rooftops. He searched for another topic to stop himself.

He folded his arms across his chest and looked at Damien in curiosity. "What's he like, anyway?"

"Wellington?"

He nodded, curious about the mortal man behind the growing legend of England's foremost hero.

Speaking about his idol was one of the few subjects other than his twin sons, Andrew and Edward, that could inspire Damien to wax poetical. Listening to him describe the Iron Duke's unflappable nerve, dry wit, and unswerving loyalty, Jack watched his wife dancing.

He had lost sight of her in the milling throng, but when he spotted her red hair again, he was surprised that she was no longer safely paired with Alec. Instead, she was gliding through a graceful turn across from some pudgy little bald chap.

Jack frowned until he realized that the stately country dance in progress was one with a shifting pattern of figures where the partic.i.p.ants were constantly changing partners with every new verse.

It was just a dance, but somehow this was not the sort of thing a man wanted to see when he was about to leave town for six months.

As he looked on, the weaving patterns of the dance whooshed Eden along to discard the pudgy man, and brought her around to face her next partner, a tall, lean, not unhandsome fellow with a loud red waistcoat and the sly smile of a hardened Town dandy.

Bit of a fop, this one, Jack thought, watching as a dark undercurrent of jealousy slid through his veins.

He brightened, however, when Eden's searching gaze sought him through the crowd and located him over there by Damien.

She sent him a dazzling grin, enjoying herself so much that it nearly coaxed him out to try.

Ruefully, he smiled back at her.

All but ignoring her partner, she tossed her head and gave a little twitch of her skirts in Jack's direction, as if to lure him out onto the dance floor. Ah, she was tempting.

But no, he thought, shaking his head at her.

He was rather fond of his dignity.

"My G.o.d, who is that glorious redhead?" someone murmured nearby.

Jack had almost missed the words, barely overhearing as a pair of hard-eyed London rakes strolled past him, oblivious to their peril, for they were wholly absorbed in evaluating the varied charms of all the women present in the ballroom.

They continued on, already sauntering away, though Jack could still hear their low-toned remarks.

"d.a.m.n me, never seen her before."

"Think she's married?"

"Since when does it matter?"

They snickered, unaware of Jack coming after them with a black look on his face, but a firm hand on his shoulder suddenly stopped him.

"Jack. A word, please."

He turned to find Lucien staring at him with cool intent in his silvery eyes. The younger twin was usually so laid back that Jack instantly knew from his uneasy look that there was trouble.

He let his flash of jealousy go, but still bristling, he vowed if he heard another word in that vein, he was throwing someone through a window. "What's the matter, Luce?"

"Ah, just a minor bit of, er, unpleasantness, but I thought you should know. Shall we?"

He did not know why the younger twin saw fit to shepherd him over to the wall to tell him what was afoot, but he soon realized it was merely because Lucien knew the size of Jack's temper, and could guess that his news was the sort of thing that could truly set him off.

"What's going on?" Jack waited, his arms akimbo.

"You, ah, fired a maid yesterday?" Lucien asked diplomatically.

"Yes. What of it?" Jack furrowed his brow. "Wait, how did you know about that?" He hadn't seen his brothers yesterday even to have mentioned it.

"I'm not the only one who knows, I'm afraid."

"Huh?"

"This woman, Lisette, I imagine she came to you well recommended."

"Aye, she had worked for other ladies in the ton."

"Well, she's been talking to them since you gave her the sack."

"What?"

"Jack-don't explode. She has started a rumor about you and Eden."

"Oh, b.l.o.o.d.y h.e.l.l-!"

Society never changed.

"I don't know how far it's gone yet," Lucien said soothingly. "I just heard it on the other end of the ballroom. But I thought you should know. You can tell Eden as you see fit."

"What does this rumor claim? I am dying to know," he said in a jaundiced tone.

Lucien's gaze slid to the floor. "She said that, uh, the two of you have a sham marriage, and that all the time she worked for your wife, you and Eden never shared a bed."

Jack's jaw dropped. He snapped it shut again, glowering. "I'll wring her neck! Of all the spiteful, petty, conniving-"

He fumed a bit at the rumor's implied slight to his manhood. What business was it of anyone if he had not been sleeping with his wife for a spell until last night? Then he realized Eden was bound to hear it soon. He had to protect her.

He looked over at her in concern. "Thanks, Luce. If you'll excuse me, I've got to go get my wife." He would rather tell her himself than have her hear it from somebody else.

He saw that the first dance had ended and blinked to spy his wife now surrounded by a swarm of elegant Town Corinthians.

The image threw him off guard. What the-?

Had those sly chaps heard the rumor, too?

Good G.o.d.

Some of them must have heard it, he thought, which would explain why they were buzzing about her like so many bees to a rare, delicious flower. If they believed Eden was trapped in a loveless marriage with a husband who neglected her in bed, then they would naturally a.s.sume that meant she was available, in the way that so many Society wives were-in the way, indeed, that Jack's f.e.c.kless mother had been back in her day.

His anger deepened at the thought. But Eden was no sophisticated Georgiana Hawkscliffe, too innocent to know what was really in those scoundrels' minds-namely, bedding her the minute his back was turned.

He was already in motion, ready to start throwing people through windows.

It was not lost on him that if he had danced with her, this would not have happened.

Why was she smiling at them?

He wasn't sure what the devil to do about the rumor. Society wranglings were not his forte. He had to think. Perhaps Alec might have some ideas. Right now, he wanted out of here, and he was taking his wife with him. He didn't care anymore if it was her first ball.

They were going home.

As he marched toward her, a swarthy, splendidly uniformed stranger stepped into his path.

Jack stopped.

"Pardon me, senor." Beneath his thin, black mustache, a smile curved the man's lips, but his dark eyes were like daggers. "Lord Jack Knight, I presume?"

Jack tensed, instantly on his guard. "Aye?"

The Spaniard clicked his heels and bowed to Jack with crisp, Continental panache. "I represent the court of His Majesty, King Ferdinand of Spain. I should like very much to have a word with you-if you don't mind."

Ruiz's superior.

Jack gritted his teeth, biting back his impatience. So, there were six good-looking men flirting with his luscious, young wife, each with a blue-blood pedigree no doubt finer than his own. And at the moment, there was not a d.a.m.ned thing he could do about it.

Very well. Let her enjoy it, he thought with gritted teeth. He could endure it another two minutes. For now, the Spanish amba.s.sador had his full attention. He was stuck with this mission, never mind that his beautiful-pregnant-young wife had half the House of Lords smiling at her, only biding their time.

Just waiting for him to leave for South America.