“In that case, she wants to kiss the marquess,” Nell said unsteadily.
Gently he gathered her in his arms, his lips quirking into the smile that set her heart aflame. “My darling, I do so love it when you and I are of one mind.”
Epilogue
Fentonwyck, Christmas Eve
As Sedgemoor’s haughty butler showed them to the drawing room, Nell’s grip on James’s fingers tightened to bruising. He cast her a faint smile. “You’ve been here before, my love,” he murmured. “You can’t be nervous.”
“Can’t I?” she muttered.
He had to admit their surroundings were daunting. The house was huge, and not even the Christmas greenery decorating the walls made it feel cozy. It was late, close to midnight.
“Buck up, darling,” he said softly, and to her embarrassment, kissed her.
For one blazing moment, she lost herself in pleasure. Then she started with dismay and wrenched away as far as his hold permitted.
Which wasn’t far.
“We’re in public,” she whispered, eyeing the butler who waited at a closed door, ostentatiously not looking in their direction.
“I don’t care,” James replied, and thi
s time he didn’t keep his voice down. He drew her back for another kiss, more thorough than the first.
She swam up from a sensual daze to a smattering of applause. At first, she thought it was her heart cavorting after James’s kiss or some new aftereffect of her head injury. Then she opened her eyes to realize that the butler had flung open the door and she and James stood in full view of a room jammed with people.
“Oh, you… absolute stinker,” she hissed, fighting to break free, but he caught her hand.
“Shall I announce your lordship?” the butler asked, staring above James’s head while Nell’s cheeks turned scarlet.
“I think we’ve made our entrance, thank you,” James said drily and stepped into the crowded room. “Good evening, everyone.”
Nell braced her shoulders, raised her chin and plastered a smile onto her face. Not before she shot James a killer look beneath her lashes. She’d get even for his antics later.
“Leath, Miss Trim.” With a delighted smile, Sir Richard Harmsworth strode toward them. “We feared you wouldn’t arrive tonight.”
“We broke an axle outside Chesterfield.” James shook the man’s hand.
Sir Richard turned to the other people. “Leath, you know Genevieve, Sidonie, and Jonas. Have you met Lady Marianne Seaton, the Marquess of Baildon’s daughter, and Lord Wilmott, the duchess’s brother?”
Nell curtsied to a lovely woman with the face of a madonna who stood beside a tall, dark-haired man resembling Penelope Rothermere. Sir Richard continued his introductions. “That leaves Mr. and Mrs. Simon Metcalf. Lydia is Cam’s sister, Miss Trim. Leath knows her from London, but I’m not sure if he’s met Simon before.”
“Metcalf.” James nodded to the lean blond man with his arm around a striking redhead.
Another couple approached. The handsome young man bore an even closer likeness to the duchess and the pretty girl was familiar, thanks to a portrait in the marchioness’s apartments at Alloway Chase.
“James, I thought you’d never get here.” The girl pouted as she flung her arms around her brother. After an enthusiastic greeting, she withdrew and surveyed Nell with a hint of reserve. “May I call you Eleanor?”
“Of course, Lady Sophie,” Nell said, curtsying.
After hearing so much about James’s sister, she felt as if she already knew this girl. She wondered what Lady Sophie had heard about her. The marchioness remained frosty since her brilliant son had relinquished his political career in favor of country life. It was no secret that she blamed Nell.
“And this reprobate is Harry Thorne,” James said.
“It’s a pleasure, Miss Trim.” With a genuine smile, Mr. Thorne bowed over her hand.
“There are such a lot of people here,” Eleanor said shakily.