From the basin on his side of the bed, he splashed cold water on his face. Then he undressed there in the room, smiling ever so slightly at the thought of how scandalized she would be were she to wake. He almost kind of, sort of, wished she would, if just to see those blue eyes open wide in bemusement to find him disrobing in her presence.
When he was clothed in his nightshirt, he crawled into bed. He saw she was still sleeping, so he stretched over the top of the pillow, kissed the tip of his own forefinger, and placed it very gently against her lips. There, he told himself, now I have kissed her, and I needn't think about it anymore.
“I don’t think you should go.”
“Nonsense, Mother. We are old friends,” Jacqueline reproved two days later, green eyes bright in the looking-glass where she checked the lay of her bonnet.
“Not when he has a wife who would object to your kissing her husband.”
“Pooh, it was a friend’s kiss of congratulations upon my betrothal,” she concluded in a sweetened voice that nonetheless demanded there be no further argument from her mother.
“You will be back here at four! Lord Aldford will not appreciate making his horses wait.”
“I’ll be back before then, you may be sure, for I will want to change,” Jacqueline said calmly.
“Be sure Mrs. Adams stays with you. Every minute. “
Jacqueline just shook her head mildly, noting with mild irritation that her companion, Mrs. Adams, looked, in her disapproval of the proposed visit, even more like a worried hedgehog than she usually did.
Jacqueline was greeted at the front door of New Garden House by the butler. “Lord and Lady Huntingsley are not at home. Do you care to leave a card, my lady?” Cloch asked of the caller.
“I will wait,” Jacqueline answered airily, sweeping in through the door, pushing her way past the startled servant.
Cloch caught Mrs. Adams’s equally astonished eye, but then inclined his head, perhaps acknowledging Master Geoffrey’s long-standing connection with the Bremcotts. He led the ladies to the front parlor to wait, to where Jacqueline noticed he did not order a tea tray sent. She did not have long to ponder her pique over that fact.
“I did not!” a female voice floated into the room a minute later, preceding Alessandra’s entrance.
Jacqueline saw her first. She noted Alessandra’s hair was beginning to tumble down, her hat was askew, and she was hobbling.
“You did so cheat, and that is why you were thrown,” Geoffrey replied, reaching to help her falter her way along the moment he’d pulled her hatpin free and passed their hats to Cloch. “Gracie will stand for none of that kind of behavior.”
Jacqueline saw laughing lights dancing in Geoffrey’s eyes, and that his coat was covered with dusty smears, as well as his boots. One arm was under Alessandra’s, the other around her shoulders, holding her up with the embrace.
All at once Alessandra spotted Jacqueline, just as Cloch belatedly announced, “My Lord, my Lady. Miss Jacqueline Bremcott has come to call, and is in the front parlor.”
“So we see,” Geoffrey said from just outside the doorway, coming to a halt. “Could you send for tea, please, Cloch?”
“Yes, my lord.”
Geoffrey assisted Alessandra into the parlor and onto a settee, from which she greeted their guest. “Miss Bremcott. How nice to see you again.” If her voice sounded a little hollow, it could easily be explained by the fact that her ankle was clearly in pain.
Jacqueline murmured, “Have I come at a bad time? Should I return later?” but the question was addressed to Geoffrey, whose back was mostly turned to her. He was lifting Alessandra’s foot, settling it atop a footstool, placing one of the sofa cushions under it.
Finally he turned. “Of course not. Cook would be furious if I sent for tea and no one stayed to consume any of it.”
Jacqueline almost frowned, for the comment seemed vaguely unwelcoming. Of course, he could hardly be warm and affectionate with his wife sitting right there. Jacqueline turned and motioned her companion forward from a corner seat she’d selected. “Geoffrey, you must remember my companion, Mrs. Adams. And, Mrs. Adams, I do not believe you have been presented to Lady Huntingsley before?”
Alessandra nodded to the lady. “Mrs. Adams, welcome.”
Geoffrey nodded in greeting as well, and after a curtsy Mrs. Adams retreated to her corner chair, while Geoffrey also found a seat. Jacqueline resettled on the edge of the chair, knowing that in every way she must appear more at advantage than Alessandra, who was lounging back, her foot up, her skirts crushed under her as she did so. “There is a pin falling out, just there over your forehead,” she told her hostess in a most helpful tone.
“Is it? So it is,” Alessandra replied, reaching up to pull the hairpin free. A faint flush crept into her face, but then she pulled the rest of the pins from her hair, allowing the dark mass to tumble down around her shoulders unhampered.
“Oh,” Jacqueline murmured, with the very tone one would use if a wet dog had suddenly entered the room. She looked to Geoffrey, expecting to see embarrassment for Alessandra’s sake, but instead she encountered a face blank except for narrowed eyes.
Alessandra’s blush deepened. She struggled to sit upright. “Excuse me,” she said coolly, “but I think I must rest. I find I have a bit of a headache since I lost my seat on Gracie.”
“Do you?” Geoffrey asked, coming to his feet at once. “I did not think. Allow me to take you upstairs. Of course we must have Maggie see to your headache, as well as your ankle. Excuse us, please, ladies. I will return shortly, after I see Alessandra is made comfortable.”
So saying, he bent and scooped her into his arms. She was a tiny thing, Jacqueline considered sourly as Geoffrey carried her toward the stairs. Jacqueline looked on, now her eyes narrowing when she saw the other woman’s hair spread out over Geoffrey’s arm like a dark, gossamer fan. The girl pressed her pretty face close to Geoffrey’s waistcoat, her sky blue eyes looking up with shy appreciation that Jacqueline knew most men would enjoy having showered upon them.
***
Emmeline had come to the top of the stairs. She looked at the laden Geoffrey quizzically as he came up toward her, her sister in his arms. A quick explanation was enough to bring Emmeline along to the Sapphire Room to assist.
It was a full half-hour before Geoffrey returned to the parlor, apologizing for the delay. “It was not such a nasty fall, but it is better that Alessandra rests. I have been teasing her it was her fault she was thrown, but in truth I think Beast must have tried to take a nip out of Gracie.”
“Ah. Your gelding,” Jacqueline said, her tone as cold as the tea in her cup. She did appreciate being neglected for so long a time.
“His name suits his bad temper, as is demonstrated once again by this little accident.”
“Geoffrey,” she cut across his conversation abruptly, “Could you show me the gardens?”
“But it rained last night.”
“I don’t mind. I’m prepared with my half boots, so a little wet grass won’t bother a thing.” She lifted a corner of her skirts, revealing the tips of the boots so mentioned. At the risque move, Geoffrey and Mrs. Adams exchanged quick glances.
“Very well,” he said, standing, smoothing out his coat with one hand, even as he strove to smooth over Jacqueline’s blatant coquettishness for her chaperone’s sake. He belatedly recalled he was dirty and dusty. Oh well, why change before going out into a wet garden? he thought with mild irritation.
“Mrs. Adams, I would like you to stay here to direct the servants to bring more hot tea for us at the end of our stroll,” Jacqueline said over her shoulder to that lady, even as her hand reached to unlatch the door to the garden.
Mrs. Adams was unable to contain her expression of disapproval, but she stayed behind, daring only one murmured protest against being parted from the company of her charge.
“Geoffrey, I have your handkerchief to return to you,” Jacqueline said. She produced the cloth she had borrowed so long ago, on which to dry her tears when first he had told her he was to marry Alessandra.
He accepted the bit of fabric, and something caught his eye. She had stitched their initials on one corner: GD-JB.
If she had hoped the task might spark another kiss in the garden, she was to be disappointed. In fact, as soon as she was gone, he meant to toss it on the nearest fire. He almost said his thought aloud—what would Alessandra think if she stumbled across such a thing?—but instead just shoved the handkerchief deep in his pocket.
Jacqueline began walking. She looked over her shoulder at him. “I will be married in a handful of days. Aldford assures me we will take a wedding tour later, when London grows too warm.”
It had been a mild summer so far, July only now beginning to warm up. Quite a bit of society had lingered in town despite the season, coinciding roughly with Parliament’s being seated, having ended. Perhaps I’ll choose to move to the country, waiting to take up residence at Mama’s until the summer is over?
“I said,” Jacqueline interrupted his thoughts, “since we will both be remaining in London awhile longer, where will we meet?”
“Meet?” Geoffrey echoed.
She stopped her flirting glances over her shoulder, turning to face him. She looked exasperated. “To share our…love,” she whispered the last word.
“Good question,” he said, because nothing else occurred to him to say. Their “affair” was a nebulous thing, a someday thing, and he’d given no thought to the actual execution of any trysts.
She heaved an annoyed sigh, and starting walking again. “Honestly, Geoffrey, I sometimes wonder if you realize what a gift I am granting you?”
I wonder, too, he thought, only slowly trailing after her. But she had a point; he was not attentive to Jacqueline. At the moment, he knew why. His gaze shifted from her up toward the windows that showed into the Sapphire Room. Alessandra could not be at one of the windows—but he had a faintly disturbed feeling anyway, as if eyes were watching him.
***
Emmeline looked down past the blue velvet curtains, careful to stay to one side, out of sight. There was certainly nothing lover-like in the posture of the two below; if anything, they looked rather as if they were quarreling.
Still, Emmeline had caught a glimpse of the look on Jacqueline's face as Geoffrey carried Alessandra up the stairs. The girl had been more than a little jealous; Elias had been right to suggest the situation with Alessandra and Geoffrey bore watching...as did the wrongly possessive glances that went with Miss Bremcott’s obvious resentment.
Emmeline crossed to the bed where her sister should have been fussing and complaining about her injured ankle, but all she found was Alessandra, her head in the clouds, humming a happy tune lightly. “Should we send for the doctor?” Emmy asked dubiously.
“No, Maggie has set me all to rights.” Alessandra’s bandaged foot was still, but the other one beat out the rhythm of the song she immediately went back to humming. She paused to say, “You have a strange look on your face, Emmeline. Are you well?”
“I have morning sickness,” Emmeline hedged a half-truth.
“Well then, lie down beside me and we shall convalesce together,” Alessandra said, patting the bed beside her. “When does James return?” she asked, when her sister had settled.
“He’s due back from Brussels at the end of the month. Alessandra,” she said seriously, “I know your move to the Grosvenor Square house has been delayed. But even once you are there, if you should ever want to come stay with us, you would be most welcome.”
“How very kind. I shall do that sometime.”
“Geoffrey, too?”
“I...I suppose,” Alessandra said, her humming coming to an end.
Emmeline closed her eyes, willing the little touch of morning sickness away, and also willing all her sister’s troubles could be settled long before the baby arrived. Though, even to herself, she had to admit that the exact nature of the term “settled” escaped her, try as she might to see what would be best for this relationship.
***
Emmeline was still reclining at her sister’s side when Geoffrey returned. He looked momentarily surprised to find someone else in the chambers, but swiftly went on to announce, “Our guests have gone. Miss Bremcott tells me her mother is planning a formal ball shortly after the wedding.”
“Not too soon, I hope, or I would not be able to dance,” Alessandra said, indicating her ankle. She sneaked a look at Geoffrey, saying without words that she didn’t care to miss a chance to dance with him, Emmeline noted as she sat up against the headboard.
“We’ll know when we get the invitation.” Geoffrey seemed to miss his wife’s implication. “You should know Lady Bremcott likes to do everything correctly, so it may take awhile to arrange. And speaking of correctly, should we send for the doctor?” he asked, reaching out a hand to tentatively examine the bandaging that bound Alessandra’s ankle.
“No. Maggie said it was a fairly bad sprain, and I was not to walk on it for a few days, but that is all. We needn’t bother a doctor.”
“I see everyone is in here,” Lady Warring called from the doorway, just removing her poke hat after coming inside.
“Mama, you’re home.”
“Whatever happened?” that lady cried, coming into the room to see the bandaging up close.
“Gracie threw me, and I hurt my ankle. I’m very proud of myself, though, for I did, however poorly, manage to land on my feet and not my head,” Alessandra said with the dimple coming to her cheek.
“An excellent horsewoman,” Geoffrey agreed.
“Should we send for the doctor?”
“No!” all three of the young people said at once.
They laughed together, and Alessandra had to explain to her mother that the question had been asked and answered twice already.