How to Live Indecently (7 page)

“Do you think your friend Riordan managed?”

“More than managed. After we left, he went upstairs and got an evening coat out of my wardrobe, grabbed a stickpin that is most decidedly mine to poke in his cravat and maybe even some other accoutrements that are definitely mine. You remember he has dark hair? At a distance or on a crowded dance floor he could pass for me, especially if he was wearing one of my coats.”

“And his dance partners? I recall you gave him your dance card. Surely up close, they’ll know it’s not you.”

“Only if they’d ever met me. Most of them hadn’t. I didn’t recognize a single name on my card. If they know me, Riordan will make up an excuse—I was detained somehow with a hostlike emergency and he’s standing in. If they don’t know me, they won’t know the difference.”

“That’s terrible though for those girls.”

Jamie shrugged. “Not really, Riordan’s a good dancer and quite a charmer with the ladies.”

“But they’ll think they’re dancing with you.”

Jamie halted the team in the back alley next to the garden gate, his voice low and serious. “Daphne, the women on my dance card don’t care if they’re dancing with me, only my consequence. I ceased being a man to most of my dance partners quite a while ago.”

Daphne let the statement digest in small pieces. It was positively unbelievable. How could a woman ignore all that he was? Cast aside the vibrancy, the sheer fun of him as if it was of no real import? This was a man who sashayed up and down tables, who danced like a gypsy, swam naked in pools, discoursed about ancient Egyptian artifacts as well as any Oxford don and made love with unrivaled passion. Who would not want that man? Who would dare to overlook that man in lieu of an inheritance, no matter its size?

“It is their extreme loss.” Daphne said in the quiet that had grown up between them. “You are an extraordinary man.”

“Thank you for that.”

“We’d better go in before it’s over.” Daphne swallowed hard. This was it; the end of the adventure and the beginning of duty. Stalling would not delay the inevitable. Eight hours had seemed like a lifetime, an infinity of freedom. Now it was up, the sand in the hourglass having run its course.

Jamie drew a deep breath and hopped down, rattling off a stream of instructions as he helped her down. “I’ll get the gate latch for you. You go in first through the garden. There’ll be no one out there this time of night. If there is, you can tell them you’re looking for an earbob you’ve dropped. I’ll take care of the rig. Find Riordan and let him know we’re back. If possible, dance with him, let yourself be seen. Remember, if we meet inside, it has to be as if we’ve never met.” There was no admonition in the instruction only regret that it had to be that way.

“Enough, Jamie,” she scolded in a whisper. It was time to say goodbye.

His hands remained at her waist. Neither of them moved. Nothing ends, Daphne thought, until I walk through that gate. She reached a hand to his cheek, to touch him one last time. He covered her hand with his, turning his lips to kiss her palm. “Promise me you won’t forget tonight. Promise me you’ll remember what life can be like outside of duty and obligation. Don’t let anyone take this adventure from you.”

Her eyes started to burn. Damn it, he was going to make her cry. “I could never forget you, Jamie.” She stepped back, determined to walk through the gate before tears ruined her cheeks, but he held her hand, unwilling to let her go.

“Daphne, do you think it’s possible to fall in love in one night?”

She smiled softly, allowing a single tear to drop. “Yes, I absolutely do.” She felt his hand squeeze her one last time then the gate shut and he was gone, taking part of her soul with him. She would never be the same and she didn’t begrudge that realization one bit.

* * *

It was as if he’d never left. Jamie stepped into the ballroom. Dancers still danced, people still wandered the sidelines chatting and champagne still flowed. Perhaps he should take a night off more often. But then he sighted the whirl of a blue skirt on the dance floor in the arms of a dark-haired man and he knew nothing could be the same. He had left. He had spent an amazing evening with an amazing woman. He could not slip back into the ballroom and simply pretend otherwise, nor did he want to. Watching her disappear through the gate had been gut wrenching. He had let her go and for what? For this? He absolutely hated watching her dance with Riordan. She should be dancing with him. Jamie took a step forward, but he wasn’t fast enough.

“Jamie, darling, there you are. I haven’t had a moment’s time to talk with you all night.” His mother. Jamie fought the urge to let his shoulders sag.

He turned with a polite smile on his face. “Mother, I’ve been busy dancing.”

“I know.” She was all smiles. “You’ve been a splendid host. Your father and I are so proud.” She bent her dark head toward him confidentially. “The mamas have all been raving about you tonight. Their daughters are in awe. I’ve received several hints that you’d be welcome to call on them in the morning, send some flowers around and all that.”

Jamie fought back a laugh. He was going to owe Riordan something fierce for this. His friend had outdone himself. “I am glad you are pleased.”

“Are
you
pleased? Did you take a particular fancy to anyone?” His mother pressed. Jamie knew if it were up to her she’d stop the presses at the
Times
and have him engaged before breakfast. His mother didn’t wait for his answer. “Oh, there she is at last. It’s one of the girls I wanted you to meet, but she’s been hard to find tonight. She had some difficulty with her stomach or so I hear. She’s spent most of the evening in the retiring room.” His mother made a commiserating gesture and waved over his shoulder. “The dance is ending, let me introduce you.”

Jamie stifled a groan. He felt as if he’d jumped out of the frying pan and into the fire, a very hot fire. It would be positively hellish to smile and make small talk with another of his mother’s candidates after leaving Daphne at the gate.

“My dear, allow me to introduce you to my son, Viscount Knole. Knole, this is Sir de Courtenay’s daughter.”

Jamie turned and froze, the words
pleased to make your acquaintance
dying most suddenly on his lips.

* * *

It all must be as if we’ve never met.
Daphne managed a credible curtsy on weak knees. It was him. All along, it was him. He was the man she was supposed to meet. “Jamie” was Viscount Knole, her hostess’s son.

From the look of him, he was as shocked as she. “Are you feeling better?” Jamie inquired, recovering from his initial surprise.

“Oh, yes, I am,” Daphne replied. Riordan had explained she’d suffered a bit of a stomach ailment that evening. “The lobster didn’t quite agree with me.”

“Perhaps you’d prefer oysters. Some people respond to shellfish differently.” Jamie smiled, his brown eyes warm and laughing with his secret joke.

“I do like a good oyster now and then.”

“I know it’s late, but might I ask if you’d enjoy a walk in the fresh air?” Jamie raised a dark brow.

“I would.”

“Mother, if you’ll excuse us?” He was all polite restraint as he slipped her arm through his and took his leave most properly.

This time they left by the front door, Jamie’s pace quickening as they headed down the front steps. He clearly had a destination in mind. She had to run to keep up. “Where are we going?”

“To St. Paul’s to watch the sunrise. I have it on good authority it’s something you’ve always wanted to do. Then I’m going to do something I’ve always wanted to do.”

“What’s that?”

“Propose to a woman I love.” Jamie paused at the street corner and kissed her hard on the mouth.

Daphne laughed and threw her arms about his neck. “I think you just did.”

* * *

There’d been a grumpy monk to wake, but they’d made it to the top with a minute or two to spare. London lay below them; Mayfair’s mansions, Piccadilly, the Strand, St. James’s and Green Park. Even the Tyburn Pool sparkled in the distance, each marker a reminder of their night, of their journey to this moment.

Jamie interlaced his fingers through hers. “We won’t be able to marry before Christmas. My mother will insist on a lavish wedding.”

Daphne laughed softly, her head against his shoulder. “So will mine.”

“Mine will be difficult. She won’t get better with time. I know from thirty years of experience,” Jamie went on.

“Neither will mine. It doesn’t matter, Jamie. When it gets to be too much, we’ll simply slip away like we did tonight.”

“I like the sound of that.” Jamie looked out over the city, his mind already planning the next time. But his heart knew a larger truth. It didn’t matter where they went. Jamie Burke knew there was no place he’d rather be than right here, in the arms of the woman he loved.

* * * * *

ISBN: 9781408995556

How to Live Indecently

© Nikki Poppen 2012

First Published in Great Britain in 2012
Harlequin (UK) Limited
Eton House, 18-24 Paradise Road, Richmond, Surrey TW9 1SR

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