"A week!" Juliana had known the duke much longer than a week.
"At least," Corinna repeated. "And as for Aunt Frances, she's known Lord Malmsey quite a bit longer than a week. Let's ask her if she's kissed him." She signaled to their aunt as she was coming off the dance floor.
Frances didn't notice. On Juliana's recommendation, she still wasn't wearing her spectacles. Which was a good thing, because Juliana figured such a question might make the poor spinster faint. "You cannot ask Aunt Frances that!"
"Why not?" Corinna said, marching toward her.
Juliana followed helplessly.
"Aunt Frances!" Corinna called.
"Yes?" Frances turned and squinted. "Oh, there you are, girls. Are you having a wonderful time?"
Corinna ignored her question, which was probably rhetorical anyway. "Aunt Frances, have you kissed Lord Malmsey?"
Two bright spots appeared on Frances's cheeks. "Well…"
"Have you?" Corinna demanded.
Frances squared her shoulders and lowered her voice. "I'm not a green girl, you know. It's no great sin. A woman should kiss a man before she decides to marry him."
Dear heavens, Frances had kissed Lord Malmsey. And she wanted to marry him. Juliana didn't know whether she was happy her project was so successful or shocked to hear that her spinster aunt had been kissed.
On second thought, she was neither happy nor shocked. She was depressed. Corinna and Frances had both kissed men. That meant she was the only grown female in all of England who remained unkissed.
Well, there was Amanda. But come midnight, when James compromised her, even straitlaced Amanda would be kissed. Which meant Juliana would stand alone as the last woman in England to feel a man's lips caress her own.
It was depressing beyond description.
"Aunt Frances!" Alexandra joined their circle with Tristan. "I've never seen you look so happy."
"I'm overjoyed, child." Frances kissed her on the cheek. "You look happy, too."
"I am, Auntie." Alexandra smiled up at Tristan. Love blazed in their eyes. "We are."
Splendid. Everyone was happy. Except Juliana.
James joined their circle next, squeezing in beside her. "Good evening, everyone."
While it was a relief that he'd finally arrived, Juliana was even more relieved to see he didn't look insanely happy. It was odd, because she usually wanted to see everybody happy. But honestly, right now the sight of one more blatantly happy person would likely make her gag.
"Are your aunts doing well?" she asked.
"They're fine. Not that they're convinced of that—they both believe they're at death's door, more's the pity." He gestured toward the edge of the dance floor, where the two older ladies were talking to his mother. "I had to examine them this afternoon before they'd agree to dress for the ball."
"They're keeping you from getting your important work done, aren't they?"
"Somewhat. But they're family." He shrugged philosophically. "What can I do?"
"There has to be something." Wishing she could figure out what, she watched Lord Cavanaugh claim Lady Stafford for a dance. "Maybe they need suitors, like your mother. She's happy."
"I'm happy," Frances said with a nod of approval. "A suitor will do that for a lady."
"But I'm happy," Corinna pointed out, "and I don't have a suitor."
No, but she'd been kissed. Juliana glared at her.
Corinna glared back, then smiled sweetly. "Alexandra's happy, too."
"That's because she's with child," James said.
A little hush fell over their circle. Juliana swung to her older sister. "Is that true?"
"It is," Tristan confirmed. Beaming, he slid an arm around his wife's waist. "We're both thrilled."
Corinna and Frances shrieked, engulfing the couple in a group hug.
Juliana took a step back. Corinna had been kissed, and Alexandra and Tristan were going to have a baby. She was happy for them. And for herself, for the whole family. She was pleased. Joyous. Jubilant. And something else. Something that made her fists clench at her sides.
"You're jealous," James said.
"I am not." Dismayed, she turned to him. "I'm happy for my sister. And for me. I'll have a niece or nephew to play with. How on earth did you know she's in the family way?"
James shrugged. "I'm a physician." She didn't look very happy. "Your turn will come," he said in his best soothing doctor tone.
"Who said I wanted a turn?"
She protested too much. Of course she wanted a turn. All women wanted babies. She was jealous.
But the worst of it was, he was jealous, too.
The jealousy was a knot in his gut. It was unexpected, and sudden, but mostly it was ridiculous.
Ladies were supposed to pine for babies—men weren't. He certainly didn't want Lady Hawkridge's child, and he really couldn't say how he'd known she was breeding. It was the look of her, he supposed. And the look of her husband, the male pride evident in Hawkridge's gaze upon his wife. James had gazed at his own wife like that before he'd lost her and their child.
And then, when he'd lost them, it had all been mixed up together, his grief for Anne and for their baby. He hadn't been able to separate one from the other. They were both lost forever. He'd never have another love, which meant he'd never have another child. He hadn't thought he wanted another child.
But now he did.
The knot twisted tighter. Bloody hell.
"Excuse me," he said. "I think I need a drink."
TWENTY-SEVEN
"YOU'RE FOXED," Juliana told James later as they danced.
"Maybe." He slipped his thumb beneath the edge of her glove and teased the sensitive skin on the underside of her wrist. "Or maybe not."
"You are." She laughed, suppressing an entirely too delicious shiver. "You've had three cups of punch tonight already."
"Four," he corrected. "Small cups. In two hours, which, I might point out, could hardly be considered severe overindulging. And how would you come to know how much I'm drinking? Are you watching me, Juliana?"
"Of course not," she said quickly, avoiding his eyes. Her gaze fell on his cravat, and she found herself picturing the golden skin she'd seen beneath.
"Hmm," he said, a pleased rumble of a hmm that seemed to vibrate right through her. She looked up again to find him
