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The play was so ghastly that Jude found himself enjoying it immensely. A vignette of Of hello, with much shouting and wailing and gnashing of teeth. The death scene transcended awfulness and became sublime. Cousin Harry roared with perfect anguish, and the lady playing his wife died with many a tortured sigh.
Jude's mother would love these people, and he had a feeling that Lady York just might be persuaded to invite his mother for a visit. A secret visit, of course, but a friendly one, nonetheless.
"Bravo!" Jude shouted as the crowd burst into applause. He was about to rise to his feet when a feminine hand settled on the back of his neck. Expecting to find Mrs. Wellingsly standing behind him, Jude cringed as he turned. But when he saw that the fingers dragging over his neck belonged to Marissa, his body spread with instant heat.
She leaned down to speak into his ear, and her neckline caught his focus and held it, rendering him unable to concentrate on what she was saying. He'd opened his mouth against that skin earlier. He'd teased his lips over her collarbone. And he'd suckled her until she'd moaned with need. His earlier restraint now seemed an awful thing. If he'd only done what she'd wanted, he'd know what her breasts looked like, naked and Hushed with lust.
Marissa started to stand again, and he shook his head. "I'm sorry, I didn't hear a word you said."
"I asked if you'd care to stroll about the garden before the dancing begins."
"God, yes."
Her polite smile spread into a smirk. "Were you staring at my bosom, Mr. Bertrand?"
"Surely not."
"You may stare as much as you like if it leaves you so starry-eyed and flustered."
"I live to please." He finally remembered he should stand in the presence of a lady and thanked God he hadn't stared at her much longer. Even her most casual movements seemed designed to enflame him.
"You're damned beautiful," he whispered as he rose to offer his arm.
"Why do you always say that?"
"Because I'm overwhelmed with it every time
."
"Did you learn charm during your years in France?"
"Yes, but I'm not being charming."
"I'm too thin and only passably attractive, so it's definitely charm."
"My word, you're in a strange mood this evening. I didn't wish to interrupt you and Miss Samuel to find out, but are things still awkward with her?"
"No," Marissa sighed as he opened the terrace door and led her out. "No, I've convinced her that
your kisses turned my head and overwhelmed my tender feelings."
"Ah, I can see why that has you out of sorts."
"That's not it either. It's just that Mr. Dunwoody fancied Beth until he saw her cousin, and now he can't see beyond Nanette's beauty. Beth is nicer and kinder and smarter, and now it's as if she doesn't exist. I want to strangle him!"
Jude stared at her for a moment, wondering if she was joking. But no, he could see the outrage in her wrinkled brow. "Marissa, are you complaining that Mr. Dunwoody enjoys flirting with pretty girls?"
"Beth is pretty," she muttered.
"I agree. But are you truly passing judgment on a man for being attracted to... fashion and fabric?"
She turned to him to glare. "He favored Beth until he met her cousin! It's not the same!"
"If you say so." He touched a careful hand to her hair. "I like your hair like this, mon coeur. It looks as though I could free it with a twist of my hand."
She touched her neck self-consciously, the anger leaving her face, and Jude bent to kiss her. He was slow this time, and careful, and Marissa seemed peaceful as well. They kissed for a long, quiet minute, but when he raised his head, Marissa laid her brow against his jacket as if she was weary.
"That's not all that's troubling me, Jude."
