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Jude threw back his head and laughed so loudly that the whole ballroom paused to look. Every smile was happily indulgent.
"Your bosom," he finally said, "is more than enough for me."
"What a meager appetite you must have," Marissa murmured. "By the way, if I'm not mistaken, I believe Aunt Ophelia just called me a witless tart."
Jude must have assumed she was joking, because he only shook his head as if he didn't understand the joke. Oh, well. Marissa didn't understand it either.
They were in the midst of their second dance when Marissa saw that Beth was dancing with Harry and that Harry had put on his most charming smile. Was he following through with his thoughts on courting one of the Samuel girls? Marissa's heart cheered with happiness that Beth might someday he her cousin. She would not marry some man from the south and disappear for months at a time.
But there was a shadow to that thought as well. Harry did not love Beth, and Marissa wanted Beth to be happy.
"Do you think," she whispered to Jude, "that a marriage might be happy if two people are not in love?"
"This is a bad time to bring that up, sweet wife."
"I was speaking of someone else."
"Well then... I'm not sure. I'd hoped that if we married, you would come to love me. I think it does happen. I saw Charles LeMont and his wife in Grantham the other day."
"You did? Did she run away weeping, I
hope?"
Jude rolled his eyes. "They didn't see me. But they looked happy. Very happy."
"I suppose I should be thankful for myself, at least."
"Be thankful for her," Jude said softly.
"Yes, I think you're right. I'll be thankful for her and for Charles." Jude was such a good man. She fought the urge to lay her head on his chest. Not yet. Not till much later.
When the dance ended, Marissa headed straight to Beth to tease her about Harry. "Your cousin has always been so kind to me," Beth responded with nary a hint of pink in her cheeks.
"Mm. He has a thousand pounds a year, you know. He shall make someone a good husband someday."
"He will indeed. Such a thoughtful man."
But Beth wasn't paying any attention at all. She was too busy frowning at Mr. Dunwoody, who was too busy fawning over Nanette to notice Beth's stare. One of the cherubs wandered up to pretend to shoot an arrow at Mr. Dunwoody's, heart. Wretched little feathered beast.
Marissa spotted Edward walking toward her and latched on to the distraction. "Ah, there is my brother looking far too serious, as usual. Have you danced with him yet, Beth?"
"Aidan? No, but he promised to find me later."
"I meant Edward," Marissa said, as her brother stepped up.
And then something very odd happened. Her friend jumped as if she'd just been poked, and her eyes flew to Edward. As Edward was leaning close to Marissa to complain about the cherubs, Beth's face turned a miserable shade of red.
"No, not him," she answered too loudly.
Edward looked up. "I apologize. I've interrupted your conversation."
"No!" Beth yelped. "It's nothing!"
"Edward," Marissa drawled. "You must dance with Miss Samuel tonight. Have a little merriment."
An eerie peacock cry drifted above the music, and Edward scowled. "Yes, of course," he muttered, then offered a little bow in Beth's direction. "I believe there is a quadrille coming up. I hope you'll do me the honor, Miss Samuel."
Beth stared at him, mouth agape, and didn't offer a response, but Edward was too distracted to notice. "Pardon me. I believe I just saw a peacock wander down that corridor."
