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His sensuous lips curved, his hand tilted the top hat he had placed on his head, and he gave her such a look, it made her heart beat faster, but then he left the ballroom.
She stood ridiculously looking after him a long moment after he was gone. The rout had no more lure for her.
Her uncle appeared at her elbow, pulled her aside, and said, “My dear, I have to leave you, but Sir Warren has been kind enough to offer to escort you home.”
Jessie frowned. “What is it? Where are you off to at this hour, Uncle?”
He laughed. “Inquisitive puss. Business, m’dear.”
“But I saw you in the corner with Pitt again. Never say he means to send you off to sea...mid-season?”
“Not a chance.” He winked at her, patted her gloved hand, and was gone.
It entered her mind that Lady Hester, the prime minister’s niece, had said something earlier that evening about the need for the good admiral at sea.
This notion filled Jessie with dread. Drat Napoleon. Drat the Third Coalition! Her uncle was retired. He had promised to stay in England...safe in England. Jessie wanted him home...she wanted him with her. She adored him. How could she contemplate him in danger once again?
A sigh escaped her, and Sir Warren was there immediately, bending low over her hand. “I flatter myself that you are pleased with your uncle’s plan...to have me escort you home?”
She gave him a half smile and inclined her head. “The lady is pleased.”
He eyed her. “Ho? Somewhere in those eyes of yours is a reprimand.”
“A reprimand?” she said, and laughed. “I wouldn’t dream of taking on such a task...if you deserved a reprimand.”
“I am wounded to the quick. What have I done to displease?” he countered, bantering.
She did give him a warmer smile then. “Naught, sir. You are most accommodating.”
“I will call for my coach and make our farewells to our hostess.” He took her chin. “However, when we are alone in the carriage, I mean to demand an explanation.”
True to his word, he scarcely waited for his driver to urge his neat barouche forward before he turned to Jessie and called her to order. “Well, my lady, what was that last remark of yours all about? Tell me, I can bear the brunt of a criticism, you know.”
“Sir, no, it is not my place,” she said with a tease in her eyes.
“Here and now, I declare everything to do with me is yours to remark.” His jolly tone of voice lowered into a soft caress as he bent over her gloved fingers. He then held her cheek as he bent and dropped a light kiss upon her lips.
She knew at once he was going to kiss her. She wanted him to kiss her, if only to experience something. Nothing! His kiss did not send shivers up her spine or make her want more kisses.
In fact, her mind wandered during that brief moment.
His voice was filled with desire. She knew the sound. He asked again, “There, I have given you a real reason to reprimand me.”
She giggled. “Indeed, you have. Ah, you want an explanation, and here it is. I am not a biddable woman. You and uncle decided between you when and how I should be returned home. I did not like it at all. Neither of you considered what I wanted.”
“Aha, a mistake I shall not make in the future, but to be fair, I was only doing what your uncle asked of me, although it suited me perfectly.”
“Indeed, you are forgiven,” she said lightly, all at once wishing they would arrive at her home.
He chattered on about various people in the social news, and finally, the coach pulled to a stop. He was out and helping her out and up the steps, where he bent low over her hand as they said goodnight.
When she went inside, it was to run up the staircase and into her room, to plop fully dressed on her bed, and say out loud, “Finally...alone.”
But she wasn’t alone. Her mind was full with the image of a Spanish rogue, and her lips were burning for his kisses!
~ Five ~
CHARLES FOX STOOD, HIS HANDS clasped behind his back as he rocked himself to and fro on his heels. Here were these good but radical Argentines asking for his help. Nerve-racking! Damn, but he would give it if he could. He wanted to because he had always stood tall for freedom.
