Cassandra smirked. “Jealous?”
Jasmine rapidly tapped her toes against the marble floor.
“Of course I am! I wouldn’t have time for a scandal if I wanted one. I’ll be dancing all night and sore tomorrow. I have afulldance card. Next is a quadrille with Lord Stockton, and after that your brother wants towaltz.” She groaned. “He asked me right in front of Mama. He knows she always makes me leave a spot open for him. I think he does it on purpose to vex me. She’ll harass me about him every day from here until the next ball.”
“Why not Matthew?” Cassandra asked.
“Not you too.” Jasmine shot her a pointed look. “Being married does not give you the excuse to play matchmaker.Especiallynot with Matthew.”
“He fits the requirements on your list, and he’sfine-smelling.”
“Gunpowder is not fine-smelling tome.” She sighed. “Though… the cedarwood is pleasant.”
Anyone else wouldn’t have known what to look for, might have missed it through her bronzed skin, but a slight dusting of pink rose on Jasmine’s cheeks. Cassandra gave her a knowing smile.
“How did you know that it’s cedarwood?” she asked innocently.
Jasmine’s flush deepened. “I’ve smelled it on him… before.”
Cassandra waited with a raised brow. “When?”
Jasmine’s foot beat a forceful tempo on the floor and she scowled.
“He has used the same pomade since he was ten years old, Cassandra. It’sclearlycedarwood,” she said. “I have a refined sense of smell. My mother owns hundreds of acres of vineyards;I can’t help my nature.”
“Mmhm.”
“AndI’m not going to marry a man on the sole basis of scent, no matter how much I love his sisters. You’ve spoiled me. I’ll want nothing but the best now.”
Cassandra laughed. “You want nothing but the best already.”
“You know what I mean. I want a love-match to come to me like it came to you.”
“Hard, fast, and covered in scandal?”
Jasmine winked. “Why should you have all of the fun?”
The quartet played a quadrille, and Jasmine poorly hid her dour expression behind her fan before Lord Stockton could see her. Apologies spilled like an overfilled glass of water from the man’s mouth, spluttering as he bumped from one guest to the other. Not wanting to see Jasmine chew up and spit out another well-meaning gentleman, Cassandra whispered in her friend’s ear, “I’m going to step outside for some air.”
“Off to find a storage closet?”
“Abench.”
“Lucky,” Jasmine grumbled under her breath.
When Lord Stockton bowed to Jasmine, Cassandra took her leave and slipped outside.
A snap of winter air struck her cheeks and burned the tips of her ears. She wrapped her shawl tight. The thought that perhaps she shouldhave waited for Seth slipped from her with each step away from the manor.
Tonight waspeaceful. Away from the stifling crowds, she surrendered to the full moon overhead. The dense foliage of the hedge maze cast an eerie silence between the rows, muffling the sounds of music and people chatting in the manor. Around every corner, she waited, listening to ensure she wasn’t encroaching on another set of lovers.
In the middle of the maze, blessedly alone, lay a single wrought-iron bench in a clearing—simple and square with no outward adornments. The cold metal bit into her shoulders and thighs when she sat down, and she regretted her boldness. She didn’t know how long Seth would be with Lord Bolderwood. The Earl’s requests often ranged from a few minutes to a few hours. Since they were at a charity function, she imagined it would take no longer than ten minutes. She could wait fortenminutes, and then Seth would come and warm her.
Leaning her head back, Lord Bolderwood’s hairpin tugged at her fine hairs, leaving pinpricks of pain in her scalp.What an impractical piece of jewelry. She removed the pin, placed it in her lap, and readjusted her hair to fall around her shoulders.
A crunch of dirt sounded nearby, too light and too soon to be Seth’s. She hid the hairpin in her hands and stood.
“Who’s there?”
