"James? May I borrow your quizzing glass?"
Dressed formally as he was, he had it in a pocket instead of hanging from a chain around his neck. When he pulled it out and handed it to her, she raised it to her left eye.
"Aunt Frances is wearing her spectacles!"
"Lord Malmsey doesn't seem to mind," James observed as they watched the older couple steal a kiss. "They do say love is blind."
"Who says it?" she asked, handing him back the quizzing glass. "Please don't tell me it's a Roman proverb."
His low laugh vibrated right through her. "I believe I heard it at the theater. Romeo and Juliet, if I'm not mistaken. I'm not all that bookish, you know. I mostly prefer newspapers and novels."
So did she. And she loved the theater. They did have common interests. With a happy sigh, she scanned all their guests again, noticing Rachael standing off by herself, watching Griffin mount the steps to the great hall.
James slipped the quizzing glass into his pocket and pulled something else out instead. Something that sparkled in the afternoon sun. "A little something to remember this day," he said with a smile.
"I have my ring," she pointed out. She twirled the plain gold band—a Stafford heirloom that she'd instantly adored—around her finger. "And I have you, which is the best thing of all."
"And now you have this." He held up the pendant, a white gold heart encrusted with diamonds.
Her breath caught at the sight of it.
James moved closer to fasten the delicate chain around her neck. "It's been at least five minutes," he murmured by her ear. "Can I make love to you now?"
"No," she said with another laugh, touching the gorgeous pendant where it was framed in her neckline. "I need to mingle with our guests."
With a finger on her chin, he lifted her face. She smelled soap and starch and James, and her heart squeezed in her chest. Suddenly, she felt breathless.
"I'll give you an hour," he warned softly against her lips. "But not a minute more." Then he quickly kissed her and sent her off.
GRIFFIN SCANNED the great hall one final time, pleased with what he saw.
The chamber hadn't looked this good since the ball he'd thrown last year in hopes of finding Alexandra a husband. The enormous Gobelin tapestries on either end of the hall had been cleaned and rehung, their vibrant colors defying their age. Beneath the old hammerbeam roof, the ancient planked floor gleamed with polish. Servants were busy lighting the torches mounted between each of the arched stained-glass windows, and soon the huge chamber would be ablaze with light. Up in the minstrel's gallery, the musicians were tuning their instruments.
In a matter of minutes, the hall would be filled with music and dancing, laughter and glittering guests. He hoped it would be a night Juliana would remember forever. There was nothing he wanted more than to see his sisters happy.
Thank God he had only one more left to marry off.
"Griffin," he heard nearby. A low, sultry voice.
He turned to see its owner, finding her standing there in a red dress that clung to her seductive curves. Most of her hair was done up in a sophisticated style, leaving just a few loose chestnut tendrils to fall in soft waves around her face. A come-hither scent wafted from her skin, making him take an uneasy step back.
Since she'd dismissed his offer to help last month, he hadn't seen her. Juliana hadn't hostessed any more sewing parties, and he hadn't attended any more balls. He'd been wrapped up in the business of Parliament, followed by some mild problems here on the estate. All the damned responsibilities he'd found thrust on him along with the unwanted title had kept him too busy for any socializing.
Which had been fine by him. He hadn't clenched his teeth in five whole weeks.
"What do you want, Rachael?"
She blinked, no doubt taken aback by his unintended harshness. But she recovered her composure quickly. "If your offer is still open, then yes, I'd like your help going through my mother's things."
He smiled, his heart softening. "Before Christmas?"
She drew a deep breath and nodded. "How about next week?"
FIVE HOURS later, James found himself confronted by the most daunting column of buttons he'd ever seen.
During the last month—seemingly the longest month of his life—he'd imagined this night a hundred times, if not a thousand. And up until now, it had gone more or less as he'd planned.
He'd closed them both into this room—the Gold Chamber, Juliana had called it—and proceeded to kiss her senseless while faint snatches of romantic music drifted in from the great hall far down the corridor. Still kissing her as much as he could, he'd managed to rid himself of all his clothing save his trousers and his unbuttoned shirt. Still kissing her, he'd managed to remove some of her clothes, too—little essentials like her satin slippers and her stockings.
He'd been quite proud of himself, really, because he'd been determined to proceed slowly, because it was her first time, and if anyone deserved a first time that was slow and cherishing, a first time she'd remember forever, it was his precious Juliana. And so far, despite the fact that he'd been all but shaking with anticipation, all but trembling with need, he'd managed to keep going slowly.
But then he turned her around and saw all those tiny, fabric-covered buttons.
"What in heaven's name possessed you to order a dress with so many buttons?" he breathed through gritted teeth, more frustrated than he remembered ever being—ever. Good God, should he continue going as planned, should he continue going slowly, unbuttoning this damned dress was going to take all night. He would
