And then, because it wasn’t polite to keep speaking to one’s own wife at a dinner party, he turned to the lady on his other side.
The raddled blond steeplechase rider leaned across her husband’s plate and gave Pamela a huge wink.
When the ladies left the room to give the gentlemen time to empty their bladders and fill them up again with port, the blond lady seized Pamela’s arm in her sinewy hand as they strolled into the salon.
“My husband gave you a turn, did he?” she laughed. “Don’t deny it. You went the color of whey. Thought I was after Rexford, did you? Well, I would be if I could be, but he never did take me up on anything but a race and he isn’t about to start now. Not when he has such as you on his arm.”
Pamela smiled, uneasily.
The lady patted her cheek. “Pretty as you can stare, and he keeps staring at you. Gather ye rosebuds, love. They don’t last long, you know.”
The evening went much better for Pamela after that.
“In fact,” she said as she brushed out her hair after she’d dismissed her maid later that night, “I actually had fun!” She saw Jonathan’s look of surprise. “Their jokes were old, and they were all so tipsy that they enjoyed those jokes more than anyone else did, but they were a jolly crew. They’ve known each other so long it’s almost as if they’re a big family. No wonder they like to spend the holidays together. The ones I got to know were delightful. Baron Oldcastle is a dear, and Mr. Vickery has such a sly sense of humor, and though Lady James is hard of hearing, she’s charming. Her risqué comments are adorable rather than shocking.”
Jonathan took the brush from her hand and leaned over her. “I’m glad you’ve reconsidered,” he said as he ran his lips along the line of her jaw. “But it’s early days. Reserve judgment. Oldcastle is more than a dear, and Lady James can be much less than charming. And more company will be coming. Now, as for the rest of tonight . . .”
“What a silly I was,” Pamela exclaimed, rising and wrapping her arms around his neck. “To make such a fuss about nothing. You were right . . . no!” she said, clapping a hand over his lips. “I’ll never say that again, so be still and treasure it. I think I was a bit inflexible. I did listen too much to gossip. I ought to have known you’d never do anything to expose me to embarrassment or humiliation. Your friends have been everything kind to me and have done all they can to make me feel at home.”
“I’m glad you’re having a good time now,” he murmured against her warm palm before he gently teased the fleshy base of her thumb with his teeth.
“Who wouldn’t?” she asked, with a delicious shiver at the feeling of his teeth nibbling at her palm. “Such friendly people. It’s true they don’t keep to any Christmas traditions that I know, so one would almost forget the holiday’s approaching. Although they are very fond of wassail.”
“Minx!” he said appreciatively as he dropped her hand and drew her closer. “You are doing well here. Perhaps too well. You’ve already learned to turn a compliment like a knife.”
“I almost regret having struck our bargain and leaving before Christmas itself,” she said with a sigh. “But I should like to see my family.”
He stilled. “And so you shall see them.” He hesitated. “Look, my love, there’s no need for utter surrender, you know . . . except to me, this way, at least.” And then he changed the subject, without saying a word.
The great dining room was full, all the guests had arrived. The conversation was loud and incessant, the toasts frequent, and even more so after the ladies had left the gentlemen to their port. That was why not a few of the gentlemen had to hold on to the wall in order to leave the room to join the ladies again.
But Jonathan had a hard head, and besides, he was not quite as merry as some of the company tonight.
“What? You’ve got the morning after headache already?” Sam Gregory, a fresh-faced young gentleman, asked when he noticed Jonathan’s faint frown. “Without even having had the pleasure of earning it?”
Jonathan smiled thinly. “No such luck, or bad luck. It is only that I had forgotten what these house parties were like. I’ve been abroad a long time, you see.”
“It’s not that,” Lord Montrose, a high-nosed worldly gentleman, commented softly as they watched some other guests staggering out into the hall. “I’ve never been to such a Christmas party myself. The jests are a bit warmer than one would expect to hear in mixed company,” he explained to puzzled young Sam Gregory as Jonathan nodded. “Indeed, the mixture of company itself is unusual. Some, quite comme il faut. Others? A trifle raffish, perhaps? Present company excepted, of course,” he added.