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Jay gritted his teeth.
No wonder they lived in Delaware indeed.
The story she told back in the carriage—why couldn’t any of them give her the benefit of the doubt? True, she didn’t help herself, and yes, as he’d said, life wasn’t fair; however, having to sit next to her giving one-word answers crushed his soul.
“Mr. Truitt.”
He quaked at Judah Nunes’ unexpected interruption and rubbed the back of his neck.
“I was just looking for someone to direct me to my quarters.” Jay stammered the words.
Eyes so dark they were nearly black bore into him from beneath the two mustaches on the man’s forehead. “Four floors up and two doors to the left, across from my nephew.”
“He seems like a nice boy.”
“He’s a child, shy but bright and more fire in him than expected. That’s all Nunes, not Levy.” Nunes cracked his knuckles.
“Like your daughter.”
Judah’s eyes widened for a moment before they returned to their natural, suspicious state. Had he imagined it? What was this family about? Something was off.
The older man clucked his tongue. “There certainly is fire there, yes, plenty of it, strong and hot. Though fire still needs kindling to stay lit.”
Jay’s heart leapt into his throat. He had no idea what the phrase meant, but the tone and the moment—he shivered despite the heat.
“Mr. Nunes?”
“Good night, Mr. Truitt.” The man’s voice held a note of finality.
He brushed past Jay towards the stairs, his footsteps echoing long after he retired and after Jay was able to make his own feet move.
Chapter Five
Ursula yanked at the top of her new orchid taffeta ball gown. Why, even with the best dressmakers, were bodices lower on her than on all other women? The dip in the front, coupled with the sleeves that started a hair below her shoulders, gave her pause. Even with jewelry a rather large swath of skin was exposed.
She tugged again. Isaac’s wide eyes, Rachel’s lowered gaze, and Lydia’s smirk flashed in her mind. At least her uncle made himself scarce during their departure, or he, for sure, would’ve had a verbal criticism. Every word out of the man’s mouth dripped with condescending disapproval as it was.
Ridiculousness. She’d had six fittings and the layers fell just right, but the reactions gave her the urge to run back and cuddle under the covers with Arte. She stared at the black and white of their hosts’ painted wood floor until the colors blurred.
Shiver dimples rose on her flesh as Jay’s palm connected with her waist.
“We’re supposed to be happy and in love,” he whispered.
“I’m smiling.” She forced the words through her clenched jaw.
“Try to make it a bit more obvious, maybe laugh like I said something funny.”
“You’ll get laughter if you earn it.” She squeezed her fan. Why was she always so harsh? And more, how was Jay always so affable? They were entering the lion’s den, their futures at stake, and he grinned as if he was on a pleasant spring stroll.
To top that, instead of being offended by her remark, he threw back his head and laughed, a sincere laugh.
Flips. Her gut engaged in acrobatics now. She really needed refreshments. Did these people have tartlets? Made without lard?
“Excellent idea, a challenge for the evening.” He bent to her ear again. “We’ll be successful. We can charm these people and be the couple to envy. Hugo and everyone here will be wildly jealous. Follow my lead.”
Ursula clutched the fan so tight the guard cracked.
He brushed her back. “I’ll get us some liquid courage.”
