“Behave, Rebecca.” Annabel’s words were quiet, but they caught and held her sister’s attention.
Unwilling to let the exchange ruin the gaiety or his quest to learn more, Jasper widened his smile as he looked down at his wife. “What must you do again?”
The laughter had gone from her eyes. “The girls are simply easy to entertain.”
“No,” Johanna said, her giggles erupting again. “Jasper, you should have heard Annie—Lady Ramsbury—in the coach. She perfectly mimics Madame Theodore, right down to the tilt of her pointy chin.”
“I would swear her nose grew as we bounced along the cobbles,” Rachel added, with a wide smile that resembled Annabel’s.
“Don’t swear, Rachel.” Annabel looked past them. “Especially not in front of our visitor. It is a pleasure to see you again, Mr. Yarwood.”
Kit stepped forward, and Jasper held his breath in dreadful anticipation.
“Lady Ramsbury.” Kit’s bow was stiff and shallow, but it was enough to be polite. “May I congratulate you on your wedding?”
“Thank you.” Annabel’s curtsy was quick, and her cheeks flushed cherry red. “That is very kind. I regret that you were not in London and able to attend.” She turned to the younger ladies. “May I present my sisters, Miss Rachel Pearce and Miss Rebecca Pearce?”
“Miss Pearce, Rebecca.” Kit’s smile widened as he shifted his attention to the rest of the party. “Janie. Jo-Jo. It is good to see you again.”
Jasper’s sisters ran squealing to the man they’d known since they were in the nursery. They’d learned to knit so they could send him lopsided scarves and mismatched socks while he was fighting in Egypt—though Jasper had told them woolens and sand were a poor combination.
Annabel’s sisters stayed rooted to the floor. Rachel’s mouth fell open. A quick elbow from the new marchioness reminded her to close it.
“That’s quite enough,” Mother declared, clapping loudly to call her daughters back to proper behavior and a proper distance. Jane and Johanna reluctantly obeyed.
“It is a pleasure to see you again, Lady Lambourn.” Kit bowed with the same military precision he’d given Annabel. “Forgive me, but I must be on my way.”
Jasper saw him to the door. Behind them, Mother and Annabel directed the girls upstairs to change clothes for an afternoon of art practice at home.
“Stay aware, Jasper. She is more dangerous—”
“I may not be a soldier, but I’m perfectly capable of looking after my interests.” Jasper put a hand on his friend’s shoulder. Given Kit’s wince, it landed harder than he had intended. “Stay focused on the connection, Kit. Not the distraction.”
He closed the door and went to the upstairs drawing room, where his mother preferred to take tea.
“My apologies for the outburst earlier, Lady Lambourn.” Annabel’s quiet words carried into the hallway. “I should not have encouraged the girls with that unkind impersonation.”
“Your behavior had nothing to do with theirs. Jane and Johanna have always been hoydens. They inherited it from the Chitester side of the family.”
Jasper smiled. Cousin Amelia was the epitome of a hoyden, but it was difficult to imagine his mother as anything but prim and proper.
“And your impersonation was flawless.” Humor warmed Mother’s words. “That horrible woman deserves your unkindness and much more.”
Then again, Mother always surprised him. He rapped on the door before entering. “I take it the French terror and Belinda Wallace were at Lady Carmichael’s luncheon?” He chose a seat near enough to Annabel to see her reactions.
“They were, though their remarks were mild thanks to Lady Lambourn’s presence.” She poured him a cup of tea the way he liked it and delivered it. Their fingers brushed, and she snatched hers away as though he were made of thorns.
Was she nervous or frightened of him? What had Spencer told her to gain her involvement in his plot?
“Nonsense,” Mother said as she lifted a biscuit from the neat stack on the tray. “The way you carried yourself reminded everyone of your station without my saying a word or lifting a finger.”
Jasper raised his ridiculously delicate teacup. “To the new Marchioness of Ramsbury.” He didn’t have any justification for the pride that surged through his chest. Annabel had done all the work before she ever agreed to their odd bargain. Still, he was proud to have a wife who could hold her own in Society.
As long as she doesn’t want to see me hang.
“It helped that I’ve known Ellen, Viscountess Carmichael, for years. Her family has an estate near Chilworth. Summers at country dances form friendships almost as well as battle.”
So she hadn’t always avoided dancing. What had changed her mind?
Trevor Harrow, Viscount Carmichael, was an honest man with a level head. In a city full of men with secrets, he seemed to have few, and his word in Lords carried more weight than men half his age. His viscountess was known both for her beauty and her good sense. It shouldn’t be a surprise that Annabel had sensible friends.
Except for Spencer. Was she so loyal to the man that she would have married someone she thought was a traitor?
Mother stood. “I’m going to rest before preparing for the Haverstocks’ ball this evening. It will be a crush.”
She left the room, and Jasper counted silently. It was a new game that was more ironic than entertaining.
He reached three. Annabel placed her cup on the tray without the slightest rattle. “I should as well.”
“Stay.”
The sharpness in his voice had her dropping back to her spot on the settee with a frown. “I’m not a hunting dog, your lordship.”
At least that proved she wasn’t a mouse either. He moved to join her, sitting close enough that he could touch her. “Jasper.” He smiled to soften the reminder. “And I apologize for barking at you as though I was the dog.”
The corners of her mouth lifted in the beginnings of a grin. That was an encouraging sign.
“Are you regretting our bargain already?” he asked.
