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His voice was full with feeling as he said, “So, my spitfire counted the days. Dash it, woman, do you know how magnificent you are when you are angry?” His arm slid around her and drew her close.
“Don’t touch me,” she snapped at him. “Don’t dare try and...”
“Oh, but I dare what you, my love, do so invite,” he said audaciously.
She knew, in that moment, he would kiss her if she didn’t stop him. She pushed him away and said, “Stop all this nonsense.”
He chuckled. “Oh-ho, my lady says me nay. A fine challenge, sweet spitfire, and I do accept.” He swept her into his arms but made no move to kiss her. He wanted to, and discovered he ached to kiss her, but somehow maintained control. He made a show of releasing her from his embrace and moving away from her on the bench.
“There,” he said with a wave of his hand. “You see how I acquiesce now? There will be time, make no mistake, when you will want me to kiss you nearly as much as I want to kiss you.” He got to his feet and put out his hand for hers. As she gave it to him and he helped her up, he leaned in and whispered in her ear. “But then, perhaps it will be too late, and I will have sailed off.”
“Oh...are you leaving England?” she asked, trying to hide the sudden distress that filled her heart.
“Not yet,” he said softly. “Now, shall I escort you back to Sir Warren? You did, after all, send him for your Negus, didn’t you?”
If she had a bat, she was fairly certain she would have tried to land him a blow across his head. Her irritation was so complete, she felt as though breathing was a great effort. For a moment, she thought she disliked him intensely. Why did he treat her with such disdain? She had never given him cause.
She took her hand from his, gave him a look of contempt, and marched past him in grand style. She swiftly made her way into the crowded ballroom, where, thankfully, she found Sir Warren coming towards her.
His blue eyes considered her as he handed her the glass of Negus, looked past her, and saw Don Rodrigo entering the ballroom in her wake.
Sir Warren was no fool. He had seen how the Lady Jessica looked at the Spanish rogue, and he was concerned. He had been at Cambridge for years with Don Rodrigo. They were nearly the same age, but they had never been friends.
From the look on Lady Jessica’s face, the Spanish fellow had somehow taken a liberty too far. Good. He said nothing as Jessie sipped her drink, then set it down on a sideboard. “Thank you, Sir Warren. It was just what I needed.”
He inclined his head, and as the band started up, he said, “Ah, a country dance. Shall we?”
Merrily, the Lady Jess put her hand in his. “We shall.”
As Jessie danced, she told herself Sir Warren was an excellent man...and she had no doubt he wanted to marry her. Why was she not attracted to him in that way? She could see all the dowagers and sticklers watching her dance with Sir Warren, and there was sure approval on their faces. They thought them a suitable match.
Well, dash it, she did not think they were. However, she did her utmost to show Don Rodrigo she had forgotten all about him. Jessie bounced, pranced, teased, and laughed in her usual jovial social style, but she knew she was faking because Jessie was ever true to herself.
She knew everything she did was to show the Spanish rogue she didn’t give a fig about him and his kisses! The young bucks hailed her ‘an incomparable’, as well as a ‘diamond of the first water’. However, Jessie was only pleased to be surrounded by admirers to show Rodrigo she did not need his attention...attention he was far from giving her. She was well aware that he never even glanced her way!
When, finally, she allowed herself to cast him a look, he turned to lock eyes with her. She felt as though she could not breathe. His expression was somber. He didn’t approve of her flitting about. Was he, could he be jealous? He raised his champagne glass to her in a silent toast and looked away.
Lady Jess was not at all pleased!
* * * * *
She would have been greatly disappointed to learn Rodrigo was not at all jealous but greatly amused. Here was this wondrous beauty, this woman-child, enacting quite a scene, and as he was no youth, knew it was all for him. She was but a green girl determined to show him she didn’t give two raps for his company or his kisses! However, he had the benefit of having had experience with maids of all ages and social styles. He knew what he knew, and yet he was moved by Jessie in ways he could not understand. He found her laugh infectious. He found the way she moved graceful, the way her hand would flit unconsciously when she spoke about something that interested her, the way her bright violet eyes filled with expression when she spoke was more than intriguing. He found her enchanting in every way a man could. He was amused by the fact she was doing her utmost to make him jealous, and did not feel a sliver of jealousy until she flirted with Sir Warren. Perhaps, he suggested to himself, jealousy was not quite the word to describe what he felt. He wasn’t concerned about any of the young bucks courting her, but Sir Warren was different.
It was obvious to Rodrigo that of all the bucks chasing her, Sir Warren was the most serious and dangerous suitor. He disliked the man, and he found he liked Jessie. It was, he told himself, as simple as that. He did not think Sir Warren was right for her.
It shouldn’t concern him, but it did, and he wanted to plant the fellow in the ground when he saw Sir Warren slide his hand down her bare arm and lean in to whisper in her ear. Damn, bloody damn, but he had to stop himself from marching over to Sir Warren and picking a fight.
And then, her gorgeous eyes met his own and he was floored!
He broke the spell by raising his glass to her, and was nearly bowled over by her reaction to his complimentary gesture.
He saw her bosom heave. He saw, but could only guess at her exclamation, and he watched her stamp her foot at him. He stood riveted by all of this and wondering just what was wrong. She forever surprised him and endeared herself to him during the process. No! He would not allow Sir Warren to have her. She was far too special for such as that devil!
* * * * *
Lady Jessie stomped her foot before she could stop herself. She reacted emotionally, and physically, to his silent toast. He was making fun of her. He was outrageously teasing her. He was maddening. Infuriating. She rather thought she disliked him more than anyone she had ever disliked in her life. Her nerves were on end, and all because of his behavior towards her. He had set her head on fire, and she couldn’t think. His toast said to her, ‘Aha, I know you are putting on a show just for me’. She believed he thought this because it was true. She had been absurdly flirtatious with everyone, and it had been...for him!
Then, all at once, she was watching him take his leave, and he hadn’t even looked her way as he walked towards the door. She felt a sure sensation of loss. He had walked away the victor in their little battle. He had decided she was no more than a child—acting out. She wanted to scream and cry, and then, he stopped and looked right at her.
