AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Jude arched an eyebrow at the implication that marrying him would be suffering, but he held his tongue. He also refrained from mentioning that he suspected Marissa was anything but a good girl. Older brothers weren't inclined to welcome that sort of speculation, and apparently even less inclined to notice bad behavior.
"She complained to Edward about you again, you know. Said you were unacceptable."
"The story of my mother, I'm sure."
"You told her the truth?" "I did."
Aidan paused at the top of the staircase, frowning down at his shoes. "Will she visit your mother at Christmas, do you suppose?"
Jude thought of Marissa sitting in his mother's parlor, taking tea with the beautiful, improper women who always gathered there. She would love it, and so would Jude. "I would not do anything to offend her," he answered carefully.
"See that you do not. But... if you do go, might I tag along? That woman your mother calls Kitten ..."
Jude was halfway down the stairs and still laughing when he caught sight of a new guest. His laugh ended on a low groan. "What the hell is Patience Wellingsly doing here?"
Aidan glanced toward the woman below, and his face hardened. "Christ."
Jude raised an eyebrow. "I thought you found her amusing."
"I did, yes."
Jude had no problem reading between the lines of those three words. Aidan was notoriously popular with the ladies. And he was also notoriously averse to any relationship the lasted longer than a week's time. Upon spying Patience, Jude had assumed she would be a problem for himself, as she'd been hinting at an affair for months now. But it seemed she'd prove more of a problem for Aidan.
"So ..." Jude ventured.
"I presumed a friendship at the end of the Season would prove conveniently limited. I see I was wrong."
The woman, forty years old and still stunningly beautiful, glanced up then, and her renowned blue eyes widened as they touched first on Jude and then on Aidan. Her smile welcomed them both, and though her face bespoke her intelligence and her warmth, her eyes warned of tenaciousness. When Patience wanted something, she usually got it. Jude had sidestepped that trap, but Aidan apparently hadn't.
"How long will she be here?" Jude murmured.
Aidan shook his head. "I didn't know my mother had invited her. She'll stay the week, I would imagine."
"Well, I'd appreciate if you'd keep her busy. Don't want her interfering with my courtship."
"Sod of f," Aidan answered, though his lips barely moved. They reached the last step, and Patience stepped forward. "Mr. York, what a pleasure to see you again. And dear Mr. Bertrand, how have you been?"
Jude's irritation toward her softened. He hadn't minded her pursuit this summer. She was amusing and interesting. But she was known to fall madly in love at the drop of a hat. Even her husband had joked about it when he was alive. Aidan, equally well-known for loving no one, had been foolish to get involved.
Jude bowed over her hand, offered an honest compliment on her beauty, and quickly excused himself. He felt the red-hot burn of Aidan's glare burrowing through his shoulder blades as he walked away, and Jude stretched his shoulders back with a smile. He was under no obligation to help his fool of a friend. He had wooing to do.
Unfortunately, Marissa had not been standing at the bottom of the staircase, arms crossed and foot tapping out her impatience. Was she actively ignoring him? Only one way to find out.
Jude made his way first to the drawing room and then to the music room. Dark notes greeted him as he drew close to the threshold, and he was hardly surprised to see Marissa at the piano, coaxing out the angry tune. When she looked up to see him smiling, her fingers banged harder.
"Marissa!" Lady York screeched. The music stopped, and the last notes rang through the room. Lady York cleared her throat and tempered her volume. "Do play something a bit gentler, dear."
The other guests shifted, some hiding smiles.
"I don't feel gentle tonight, Mother. Perhaps you would care to play?"
"Oh, I couldn’t!” Lady York trilled, already pushing forward in her seat. "I haven't... well, all right. If you insist. Mr. Bertrand, would you accompany me? You have such a lovely deep speaking voice."
His chin jerked up in shock. "Er, I must excuse myself, madam. I've been told my singing voice evokes thoughts of dying wolves. But please allow me to escort you to the piano."
He delivered her safely to her scat, and she protested that if he didn't sing, she would have to sing herself. After a bit of coaxing, she acquiesced with a giggle of delight. Even the slightest acquaintance could see that Lady York loved performance above all else, and she launched happily into a romantic song about a knight and his fair maiden.
Jude's fair maiden glared from the settee as he walked toward her.
