he had been one of the men at the Crooked House that night, he didn’t show it. Even when Saint looked him straight in the face, his eyes hard and flat as he introduced Jules, Bunker showed no sign of recognition or embarrassment. He hadn’t been at the Crooked House, Saint thought. As for the others, doubtless many were here and they would recognize Jules. But they would say nothing. They wouldn’t dare. He grinned at Penelope, gowned in a dampened Regencystyle dress, her very nice nose in the air, as was her wont.
But Penelope was excited, even though she had no trouble disguising the fact.
Until she met Thomas.
‘Well,’ said Penelope, eyeing Thomas without much interest, ‘I understand that you are Mrs. Morris’brother. Good evening, Mrs. Morris.’
Jules merely nodded.
‘Yes,’Thomas said pleasantly to Penelope, Cquite a curse, wouldn’t you agree? But then again, she’s such a beautiful curse and she makes me laugh.’
Penelope, who had been ready to dismiss the young man, retrenched, deciding to give him just a bit of her attention. ‘I have decided I will waltz with you, Mr. DuPres,’ she said, offering him a dazzling smile.
967
‘Your decision is gratifying, Miss Stevenson, but I haven’t asked you, ma’am. I do believe I’m thirsty. Jules, would you like a glass of champagne?’
It required all Jules’s efforts to keep from bursting out laughing. Penelope, red-faced, was staring at Thomas, her hands clenched at her sides.
‘That was marvelous, Thomas,’ Jules said softly as they moved away. ‘Chauncey Saxton told me Penelope was such a snobbish twit, and so full of herself.’
‘True_, but she’s very pretty,’ said Thomas. He tossed down his champagne. ‘She just needs a man to teach her manners. Now, Jules, I want to do some dancing.’
‘With Penelope?’ she asked in an impish voice.
‘Not yet. Let the girl suffer for a while. By the time I ask her, she’ll be appropriately chastised, and eager.’
Jules, who had never seen this side of her brother, blinked up at him. ‘Pretty sure of yourself, aren’t you, brother?’
Penelope didn’t appear to be suffering at all, Jules thought. As usual, there were many more gentlemen than ladies, so her hand was claimed for each dance. Still, her eyes sought out Thomas, and glittered. Thomas ignored her.
268
4Finally,’ Brent Hammond said to Jules a while later. ‘A waltz, ma’am?’
‘I’d like that,’ Jules said.
He was a graceful dancer, and Jules quickly found herself following his lead with ease. ‘Michael said your wife is in fine health, sir.’
‘Yes,’he said, his eyes searching out Byrony in the throng, ‘but I told her not to tire herself. It appears, however, that she’s doing just that.’
‘It’s so exciting! I can’t blame her. I’ve never been to a ball before,’ she added. Brent looked down at the lovely girl in his
arms-, really seeing her for the first time. ‘You’re a natural dancer,’ he said, smiling at her. ‘Saint’s a lucky man.’
‘That, sir, is what I keep telling him!’
‘I don’t suppose I can convince you to tell me Saint’s other names? ‘Michael’ is inoffensive enough. Come, tell me.’
Jules laughed, shook her head, and inadvertently stepped on his toes.
‘How about where and how he got the nickname Saint?’
‘Your wife is waving at you, sir,’ she said gaily as the music came to a halt.
Brent watched her glide into another dance with Dan Brewer. He made his way through the crowd toward his wife. To his surprise, he
saw Penelope Stevenson standing with Jules’s brother, Thomas. She looked absolutely furious, and Thomas, interestingly enough, was looking ready to yawn with apparent boredom.
Jules released her husband, but only for five minutes, she told him, to speak to several men. The orchestra was not playing, and she looked about for Chauncey or Agatha. They must have gone upstairs to the ladies’ receiving room. She walked to the French windows along the side of the ballroom. It was a beautiful, clear fall evening. She slipped out onto the balcony and leaned her elbows on the railing. It was nice to be alone for a bit. But only for five minutes, she added to herself. She wanted to dance with Michael again. She wished desperately that she’d managed to stay awake the previous night, but she hadn’t. She didn’t even know if he had come to bed, for when she’d awakened in the morning, he’d been gone. She sighed, and for once didn’t admire the beautiful azaleas on the balcony. Something had to be done, but she simply didn’t know …