Page 64 of Stolen By the Duke of Stone

“Your Grace,” he spluttered. “Welcome. Please, come in.”

Andrew loomed behind her. “I believe you already know me.”

“Y-Your Grace,” the poor boy said. He barely looked any older than her, and he was accustomed to the rather more laid-back atmosphere of the club, not Andrew’s awful formality.

Jessamine nudged him in the side. “Be nice, please.”

“I am perfectly nice.”

She huffed a breath as she followed the corridor through to the drawing room where the group usually met. Sometimes they discussed notable events, sometimes they discussed how they might promote women’s rights, both politically and domestically, and other times, they were engaged in following their own whims.

Or, as was the case here, they were playing games together.

Lady Marwich slammed her hand down on the table as she won a flush, and gathered her tokens to herself. Temperance groaned aloud, tossing her cards to the table, and another lady glowered at Lady Marwich.

“How is it you always win, my lady?”

“Because, my dear, I am simply a better player.” Lady Marwich glanced up, saw Jessamine and Andrew standing in the doorway, and froze. Shock passed over her face, then wicked delight. “My dears,” she said, rising to greet them. “What a delight it is to see you here. And on such a night. You look terrible, Jessamine dear.”

“Thank you.” Jessamine allowed Lady Marwich to kiss her cheek, wondering how obvious it was that she had been crying.

“And you,” Lady Marwich said, addressing the words to Andrew. “I had not expected to find you here, Your Grace.”

He bowed. “I thought Jessamine deserved to spend an evening with her friends.”

“Oh, but we could not expect you to leave us now,” Lady Marwich said. “Please, stay.”

“Stay?” he repeated.

Jessamine took his arm, unsure if she was more touched or amused by the idea of Andrew remaining in the Minerva Club. “Yes,” she said. “Please do stay.”

He glanced around the room, then back at her. After a second, his expression eased. Not quite a smile, but not that far off, either. Her stern, strict, uptight husband, capitulating just for her. It barely felt like it could be real. “Very well,” he said. “If you want me to stay, then I will.”

“Very good.” Lady Marwich clapped her hands. “That’s enough. We ought to play a more serious game.”

Temperance sidled to Jessamine’s other side. “I’m so glad you’re here,” she said. “And with your handsome duke!”

“You can just refer to him as Andrew, you know,” Jessamine said.

“Oh no.” Temperance giggled. “He would never accept that. Look at him! He wants nothing more than to escape.”

Jessamine glanced up at him, amused by the way his eyes widened in what might have even been fear as all the ladies engaged in their disparate activities immediately came to stand beside Lady Marwich. This often meant they would enter a debate, but Jessamine suspected she knew better, and so she did.

“Blind man’s buff,” Lady Marwich declared. “Clear the room.”

The room cleared with remarkable speed. Jessamine watched in amusement as Andrew drew closer to her. “Are you sure you want me to remain? I thought I would allow you some space to be with your friends.”

“Oh, no,” Jessamine said sweetly. “I’m very sure. You were so good as to bring me here. Why should you miss out on the evening’s games?”

“For your sake, I would.”

“I could never dream of denying you.” Jessamine laughed up at his face, carefully neutral. “Relax, darling. Nothing very terrible will happen.”

The endearment slipped from her lips unintentionally, and she saw the moment it hit, as his eyes widened in shock.

It was easier to slip from his side and engage in the planning of the game. Far easier than looking at his face and seeing too much.

Or worse, not enough.