Page 21 of Holding Onto Love

He wished to attend the theater. She could do that. She would show him that she could.

“Magnificent!” he exclaimed, beaming at her proudly.

“It will take me a few hours to prepare.”

“Of course.” He pulled her close and gave her a resounding smack of a kiss on her lips. “Show me what you will wear.”

That took the wind from her sails. He thought she would not know how to dress for Society, even though he’d provided her with more than adequate clothes.

Two days after they signed the contract, a modiste had appeared at the door, having been instructed to create, from scratch, an entire seasonal wardrobe. Vanessa cringed, cast back to a time when her father would bestow similar gifts upon her. If given his way, she would have worn hideous things, clothes that shouted: Look how much money my father has. Look what you may possess in exchange for your title.

Of course, this was different. Jasper’s chosen modiste had taste. They agreed upon nearly everything: a variety of day and evening dresses, lovely, delicate underthings, and even a few night rails she thought Jasper would appreciate. But she ordered fewer dresses than the modiste suggested, knowing she wouldn’t wear even half of those.

Vanessa knew how to dress well. But let her lord master supervise her first public appearance if it would set his mind at ease.

“My gowns are in the dressing room. Would you like to choose?”

He made a sour face. “No, I would not like to choose. I simply want to see it.”

“Why?”

“If I say, you will not be surprised.”

“I don’t like surprises.”

“You will refuse.”

“In that case, I emphatically do not wish to be surprised.”

“Vanessa, you cannot go to the theater without jewels. And, except for that very lovely piece you’ve stopped wearing, I have never seen you in jewelry.”

Her necklace. A very thin chain of gold with the tiniest sapphire pendant. Henry had given it to her. It was kind of Jasper to call it lovely. She knew it was, but most wealthy men would scoff.

And, of course, Jasper was correct. She could not go to the theater naked of jewelry. She’d be embarrassed to do so. And it would reflect very poorly on him.

She sighed. “I won’t refuse. Just a moment.”

Her shift was on the cold tile floor. She reached and snagged it, then pulled it on over her head. Jasper could prance about unselfconsciously without clothing, but she had not mastered that art.

She went to the spare room, studied her evening dresses, and chose a blue-black gown, sparsely decorated with tiny, deep red scrolls. The neckline was squared off, but the cut of the bodice nevertheless accentuated her bosom—which, frankly, needed accentuation. The short, puffed sleeves would draw attention to her glove-encased arms. She liked her arms.

She returned with the dress slung over her shoulder, then shook it out and held it before her.

“This one.”

Jasper regarded it a moment, then nodded, satisfied, and said, “Rubies, if I can find a set on time. Otherwise, it may have to be garnets. Unless you have a different preference.”

“I am willing to be surprised.”

He started, then smiled.

Jasper was profligate with his smiles, using them skillfully in myriad, differing situations. He was better with them even than most women. Vanessa was learning which ones to discount. But there were some that she stored away in her heart, banked like an ember, for some future date when she might need the warmth.

*

Jasper shielded her. They arrived unfashionably early so that he would have no one to greet in the crowd outside. He steered her up a back stairway and ensconced her in the shadows of his semi-darkened box. He behaved as if she were a duchess he was escorting, sitting beside her without closing the space between them. Not for Jasper the carelessly sprawled thigh or artlessly draped hand. But of course, she’d known he would not crassly proclaim his ownership of her. It was more subtly done.

Most people did not attend theater to watch the play, but rather to observe the audience. She was aware of the craned necks and the opera glasses tilted in her direction, but she kept her own eyes upon the stage, partly because she was afraid of who she might see. Yet, she reassured herself, even if she were recognized, it would not be by anyone who would approach an earl’s box.