Flushed, her chest rose and fell with her breathing. A light sheen of sweat shimmered over the tops of her breasts, and he envisioned his tongue there—right in that shallow dip. Forcing his thoughts clean before his body had a reaction, he guided Jasmine back to her mother.
The Marchioness was engaged in conversation with Honora, Caroline and—was that the Spanish Ambassador whisking Caroline to the dance line? As Matthew stepped forward to protest, Honora noticed him. In two quick strides, she blocked him with an outstretched fan.
“Lady Dorchester said you may take your turn about the room now.”
“If someone is dancing with my sister, Honora, I deserve to know—”
Matthew tried to peer around her, and Honora’s scowl deepened. She snapped her fan shut and gestured to the wall.
“Walk, Lord Lincolnshire.”
He jumped at the command, then nodded.“Yes ma’am.”
Jasmine shook with her laughter. Matthew was sure every eye was on them, but when she laughed like that, he didn’t care. He had no control over the women’s schemes, for now. Knowing that, he fell into a comfortable silence with Jasmine. It was nice to be near her.
No pressure, just them.
“Caroline knows how to captivate.” Jasmine studied him and raised a brow. “It’s a wonder she hasn’t found a match.”
“That isn’t my fault. Don’t let her fool you, she rejects more men than I scare away.”
“Why do you fight off your sister’s suitors? You thrashed Seth for compromising Cassandra.” She lowered her voice, “When you’ve donesimilarthings.”
He gritted his teeth. “That was different. Seth lied to me and I caught him in the act. He got us disqualified from a contest, shackled me to an arms contract, and—”
Ruined my plans to propose to you.
“He deserved it, he knows it, and we’re square now,” he finished. Then he leaned in close to Jasmine’s ear and whispered huskily, “Just know, I’d suffer a thousand thrashings for you.”
She laughed and elbowed him in the side. “I’d rather you not suffer any.”
Her foot slipped on a slick part of the hardwood floor, and she fell forward with a gasp. he caught her hand with his.
And she flinched.
“You keep doing that.” Concern laced his voice. “Are you hurt?”
“A little.” She averted her gaze. “But it’s nothing.”
“You don’t have to be strong all the time.” Matthew furrowed his brow. “We’re communicating, aren’t we? That means you telling me when I’ve hurt you. Was I too rough during the dance?”
“It wasn’t you.” Her voice wobbled, and in the mirror on the wall, he saw her bite her lip. She was afraid to tell him! A bolt of paniczapped through him.
“Was it hurting after you—” He looked around and whispered, “Was it hurting on Monday?”
Blast it!
He should have held her instead of allowing her to shoot on her own. His heart sank at the thought that his negligence might have caused her pain.
As her silence stretched between their steps, Matthew pleaded, “Jasmine, talk to me.”
With an unsteady breath, she met his gaze and raised a fan to her mouth. If he hadn’t been in tune with the rhythm of her voice, he might have misheard her.
“I had an altercation with Lord Rothwell yesterday.”
Through gritted teeth, he asked, “What happened?”
“I rejected him, and he grabbed me.”
