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"I understand congratulations are in order," she finally said, her eyes falling to his chest as she shook her head. "I don't know why I'm surprised, but I am."
"Thank you. Have you not yet remarried? I was certain you'd meet a dashing ship's captain and sail the world with him."
She laughed with a familiar husky sound that had once been enough to swell his cock with anticipation. She was, objectively, an average-looking woman, but she lived life with such joy that she enchanted everyone she met.
Conine shook her head. "A ship's captain might make an ideal husband, actually, but I've yet to meet one who's dashing. I find them all rather grumpy and serious."
"Tragic."
"In the meantime, perhaps you will escort me for a dance. If your marriage is a happy one, this might be my last chance to insinuate myself into your arms. And I left so quickly for Jamaica that I already missed one last chance with you. I'd hate to miss this one as well."
There was a promise in those words, a hint that spoke of more than dancing. Jude offered a chagrined smile and began to excuse himself from the honor. He wasn't one to be led by his cock and didn't feel tempted, despite the current uncertainty of his and Marissa's future.
But he paused just before the words left his mouth. He remembered Marissa's steady look as she'd danced by in her former lover's arms.
"I'd be honored," he heard himself say as he bowed and offered his arm.
This was beneath him. Far beneath him. But as with his jealousy, he could taste the bitterness of it in his mouth, but he could not seem to spit it out.
He would dance with Conine, if only to tell himself that he hadn't lost this battle. But the war . . .
the war was another matter entirely. Either Marissa would carry on with her life, or they would marry and he'd have a wife who thought she'd married beneath her.
So knowing it would help nothing, Jude escorted Conine into the crowd just as a waltz began.
Breathless from the dancing, Marissa wound her way through the crowd to join Aidan and Jude. If she hadn't needed to speak with them, she might have avoided the men all night. Jude, at least, looked like an angry bull, anxious to gore at least a few of the guests before the evening was out. When she saw that Aidan stood alone, she wasn't surprised at the relief that loosened her muscles, but even then, she felt a pang of loss that she wouldn't be near Jude.
"Enjoying yourself, Marissa?" Aidan asked as he signaled a footman to bring a glass of champagne.
"I'm not sure how I could be. I only want this night to be over. Is Edward... ?"
"Yes. I'll be relieving him in half an hour or so."
"So there's been no word?"
"None."
The champagne arrived, but Marissa held it without taking a sip. "I danced with Charles."
"So I saw. Jude and I wondered if you were trying to tempt one of us to violence."
She rolled her eyes. "Charles is harmless. Which is what I wanted to tell you. The only topic he broached was his wife's pregnancy. He's elated. There was not even a hint of awkwardness between us. I'm sure it's not him."
"Perhaps he was hoping to wound you, speaking of the child he will have with another woman."
"No, I'm sure that wasn't it. He spoke of his wife with great affection. In the past, there was some tension between us, as if Charles was remembering our previous affection each time we met. But that's gone now. Or perhaps I am changed .... I don't know."
"Are you changed?" he asked.
She shook her head, unable to answer the question. Was she changed, or was she only cowed by all that had happened in the past month?
As she contemplated that question, Marissa caught sight of a familiar set of shoulders moving through the crowd. For a split second, she could not reconcile that they were Jude's shoulders, only because he was surrounded by dancers. But yes, Jude was dancing, and as he spun in time to the slow and sensual waltz, his partner came into view.
The woman was a stranger, which was another odd shock after the intimate confines of the hunting season. Her black hair was lovely and her brown eyes warm, but her face was unremarkable otherwise. At any other time in her life, Marissa would hardly have noticed her at all. Certainly, she would've sniffed at the idea of being threatened by her.
But this woman, plain or not, glowed with... knowledge. She moved with the rhythm of the music as if her body were a mystery only she understood. She knew the power of her large eyes and used them to full effect. And she knew Jude. Intimately. Marissa could see this with no effort at all. Patience Wellingsly had looked at Jude as if she wanted him.
But this woman looked as if she'd had him and knew s
