“Exactly.” Jasper refilled his drink before turning toward the door. “Now let’s go listen to yet more Mendelssohn and songs meant to make us fall in love.”
They crossed the entry hall together, and Kit reached for the latch. Then he dropped his hand and stepped aside, his jaw set and his hand in a fist.
Since his return from the war, Kit had insisted on being first through every door unless Society dictated otherwise.
Jasper clapped him on the shoulder. “I don’t think anyone on the other side wants to shoot me. It’s only the first week, after all.”
Jasper didn’t remember ever entering a room unnoticed, but he’d always understood it had little to do with him. He was little more than a title and an estate, wanted for influence and power. Men wanted money, young ladies wanted a husband, older women wanted a lover. The stares grew sharper, hungrier, with every title he inherited.
“My apologies for keeping you waiting,” he said as he raised his glass and ignored the irritation crawling across his skin. “Miss Bainbridge, will you honor us with a song?”
Charlotte Bainbridge was a good choice. Jasper had heard her play not long ago when he dined with her family, so he knew she was talented and polished enough to be understated. And, as expected, Viscount Raines stepped to her side with an offer to turn the sheet music.
Jasper sipped his drink to mask his satisfied smirk. Any attention from Charlotte would soften Raines for later. The young fop used any excuse to drink to excess. Celebrating Miss Bainbridge’s attention, and the possibility of gaining her sizable dowry, would be good enough.
As the song began, a flutter of activity caught Jasper’s attention. Miss Spencer, her face pink under her delicate blonde curls, was agitated. Her companion, again in spectral gray, still faced front, but her head was tilted toward her charge. Despite their postures, their words were quiet.
Jasper ambled through the crowd until he was in earshot, then sat.
“If you must be displeased, you will leave after the performance has concluded,” Annabel hissed. She held Miss Spencer’s forearm in her grasp. “Without flouncing out in a huff.”
“But for him to choose her—it’s just too much,” Elizabeth bit out. “After what she did to me today—”
“She laughed when you missed a wicket, Elizabeth. That is not a crime.” Annabel sighed. “It’s not even in poor taste.”
“She made a fool of me in front of Lord Ramsbury and every other gentleman present.” Miss Spencer’s fingers twitched in her lap. Social constraint seemed to heighten her irritation. “As I was the wronged party, I should have been asked to open the performances.”
“You made a fool of yourself by storming to the house and shouting it down until I arrived.”
Annabel’s words were so quiet, Jasper found himself leaning forward to catch them.
“And for you to perform musically would only compound that error,” she continued.
Jasper rolled his lips inward to keep his laughter bottled up, but it still shook his chair. Miss Spencer’s dramatic gasp hid the creaking and kept him unnoticed. However, it also drew the attention of nearby guests.
Annabel nodded to them and kept her gaze focused on Miss Bainbridge. She squeezed Elizabeth’s arm to ensure she did the same. They were quiet until all eyes returned to the performance.
“Do not playact, Elizabeth,” Annabel whispered. “You know as well as I that the pianoforte isn’t your passion. If you wish to display your talents, take your easel into the garden tomorrow and do a watercolor.”
“What good will that do? No one can watch me paint.”
“But your host will always have a delicate reminder of you and your stay here.” Annabel glanced at the girl. “That will outlive any music or missed wicket.”
Applause signaled the end of the recital, and Miss Bainbridge stood to curtsy. Viscount Raines stayed at her side, keeping her hand so she could balance into a lower dip. His position gave him the opportunity to glance down her cleavage.
Jasper tightened his grip on his glass as he sipped. The man might have been banned from a brothel, but his thoughts apparently stayed there. He’d need to talk to Kit about the young viscount.
The crowd stood and shifted, allowing new performers to jockey for position and choose their songs. Several approached Charlotte Bainbridge to compliment her playing.
“You may cry off with a headache,” Annabel said quietly. “But you should compliment Miss Bainbridge first.” She talked over Elizabeth’s objection. “It will be a long month full of taunts otherwise.”
Miss Spencer walked to the front of the room and spoke to Miss Bainbridge, all under Annabel’s watchful eye. When she left the room, her back was straight, her jaw was set, and there was a determined gleam in her eye.
The crowd took their seats again, and Jasper, obeying a perverse impulse, claimed the now-vacant chair beside Annabel. Her eyes widened, and a blush stained her cheeks.
“Your lordship.”
“Miss Pearce.” Jasper weighed mentioning her conversation but decided against it. Admitting to eavesdropping was a sure way to make sure no one spoke out of turn. “Are you enjoying the music?”
Annabel nodded. The newest performer had chosen a livelier tune. It was a welcome change, but it made it difficult to hear any conversation. Jasper had to lean in to hear what she was saying.
She smelled of clover and apples.
“You should speak to your housekeeper,” she said.
He glanced around the room, looking for anything out of place. “Why?”
The look she gave him was the same she’d given the impatient Elizabeth. “Viscount Raines has the stare of a well-trained rogue.”
Jasper looked into her expectant gaze. It was clear she was awaiting his response, but he wanted to know how she interpreted what she’d seen.
Her sigh was so deep it moved her shoulders. “The young man is a bounder, but Miss Bainbridge has a sharp-eyed chaperone. He’ll not get past her. Your maids will likely not be so safe. They should tend his room in pairs, or with a footman at the door.”
Jasper nodded his agreement with a lazy dip of his chin that had taken him months to master. “Thank you.”
She turned her attention to the music, leaving him no choice but to sit in silence, watch the people around him, and not wriggle in the too-straight, poorly padded chair. After a moment, the light shifting across her gray silk skirt drew his attention. It was too rhythmic to be a fidget. She was tapping her foot in time with the song.
Jasper didn’t remember ever seeing her dance, though, frankly, he didn’t remember seeing her in a ballroom at all. Those events were always a crush, and only the peacocks and fools stood out. Annabel was neither of those.
