“I attended a Zoological Society lecture last year.” It had been a final treat to herself before she began looking for a position, while her time was still her own. “The topic was the sea life in the Caribbean, specifically the predatory ones.” She kept her voice low so the couples waiting ahead of them in the receiving line could not overhear. “If sharks stop moving, stop hunting, they die.”
He squeezed her hand. “But I believe he also said they are solitary creatures.”
“Mostly, but some travel in schools. I wonder if they learn useful things like arranging—” She looked up into his eyes, which were much closer to hers than she expected. “You were there?”
His smile widened. “So you either didn’t see me or didn’t consider me to be interested in things past my own nose. I don’t know whether to be amused or insulted.”
“You keep telling me you have no feelings to hurt,” she said, mimicking his breezy tone. “Besides, you didn’t notice me either.”
They stepped forward in the line.
“Men aren’t allowed in the upper galleries with the single ladies. Fear of orgies, you know.”
The couple in front of them turned to give them both disapproving stares. Annabel rapped Jasper’s knuckles with her fan, which only made his laughter worse.
“Married ladies, however, can sit with their husbands,” he said. “It’s a little-known rule, likely because most men attend the lectures to avoid their wives.”
Annabel couldn’t stop giggling, which only drew more attention. “If you don’t behave, we’re going to be eaten alive.”
“Can’t have that just yet.” He cleared his throat and straightened to his full height as they greeted the Earl and Countess of Haverstock and moved into the crowd. Annabel could see nothing but dresses and curls, so she was left to trust Jasper as he searched for friends.
“There’s Carmichael.” His hand was warm at her back and his fingers shaped to her waist to guide her. “This month’s lecture is on the tigers in India. Would you like to attend?”
“Very much, thank you.” She refused to be embarrassed by the eagerness in her voice. He’d offered her something better than any dress or glittering jewelry, and she wouldn’t lie about her excitement.
“I must say, Ramsbury, I expected you to still be on your wedding trip,” Lord Carmichael said when they reached the couple. Their table was far from the dance floor.
“We discussed it but decided to wait until the session had concluded for the summer.”
“And you agreed to postpone Paris for London, Lady Ramsbury?”
“Do not tease her, Trevor,” Lady Carmichael said. “Annabel is far more levelheaded than most of us.”
Though the compliment made her sound as interesting as a table, Annabel smiled her thanks to her friend. “My husband’s work in Parliament is far more important than visiting Mr. Worth, Lord Carmichael.” She sipped her champagne and did her best not to wrinkle her nose before setting it aside. She had never developed a taste for the drink’s sharp, sweet taste.
“Thank you, darling.” Jasper looked over the rim of his glass, his blue eyes warm.
Tingles shot from Annabel’s scalp to her toes, and her breasts pressed against her corset until her nipples rubbed against the fabric. It was an alarming, but not distressing, reaction.
The orchestra took their seats, and the floor cleared. Jasper set his glass on a nearby tray. “Shall we dance, my lady?”
She blinked at his outstretched hand before following his arm to his face. His smile held a challenge.
“The highest-ranking gentleman dances with the hostess to open the ball.” Even as she said it, she placed her hand in his.
“There’s always a duke lying about somewhere at these things, especially this time of year.”
As he spoke, a gentleman in a kilt led the countess to the floor. Annabel craned to get a better look. “Is that the Duke of Argyll?”
“It is,” Jasper whispered, warming her ear as he put a hand to her waist. “He addressed Parliament this morning on the subject of liquor taxes.”
He urged her to the floor when it was their turn in line. Rather than staying near the edges, as men had always done when dancing with her, Jasper led her under the chandelier and took her in his arms for a waltz. “Don’t be nervous. I want everyone to see how proud I am of my new wife.”
It was exactly what he would do to thumb his nose at the persistent gossip regarding their marriage. It didn’t mean that was what he truly thought. Still, warmth surged through her until she relaxed in his strong embrace. “Thank you, Jasper.”
Chapter Nine
He was becoming addicted to making his wife smile.
Jasper spun Annabel under the lights in the ballroom, enjoying the brush of her skirts against his trousers and the way her hand grasped his. Rather than a vine clinging to him and waiting for him to move, she had strength and agility that challenged him to improve his footwork.
“I wasn’t aware that you followed my parliamentary career,” he said. He’d been surprised both by her knowledge and the ring of pride in her voice.
“Don’t most wives?”
He didn’t believe his mother had ever discussed politics with his father. “I don’t know. I’ve never had one before.”
“A wife, or a career?”
“Touché, Annabel.” He looked past her to the other dancers.
When he entered Lords as the Earl of Lambourn he had stayed at his grandfather’s shoulder. For the first few sessions, he’d voted in lockstep with the old man, learning as he went. All it had taken was one argument, one thump of a cane, for Jasper to step out on his own. After that, he’d carried his tenants’ concerns with him and learned to negotiate to meet their expectations.
Now Grandfather was gone. He was the marquess, and on his way to becoming an effective statesman. He had formed alliances with men who wielded their power wisely.
At the beginning, it had been more of a chore than a privilege. Now something thrummed in him every time he entered the chamber. He wanted to make a difference in the country, not just the counties where his property lay.
