The Forbidden Lord by Sabrina Jeffries (21)

The Christmas ball at his stepsister’s estate was more crowded than Jordan would have liked, given Emily’s still-delicate condition. She shouldn’t be exposed to so much chaos when she was recovering from having their son a month ago, but she’d insisted that they accept the invitation, since the Worthing estate was close to Jordan’s own. What could he do but indulge his wife, since indulging her few requests was his greatest enjoyment?

He was returning to her with a glass of punch when he noticed her in deep conversation with his stepsister. As he neared them, he heard his name spoken. A mischievous impulse made him duck behind the pillar next to them and strain to overhear their words.

“He’s not the same person since he met you,” Sara was saying. “Jordan used to hate parties of any kind, and I’ve certainly never heard him quote poetry as he did at dinner. He seems so relaxed and happy. What kind of potion are you feeding my brother, Emily? You must give me some of it.”

“Surely you don’t need any such thing for your husband.”

“No. To be truthful, there are certain situations in which I would prefer that Gideon not be relaxed, if you know what I mean.”

“I do indeed. And in similar situations, you can be sure that Jordan isn’t the least relaxed himself.”

The two women laughed themselves silly over that one, and Jordan decided he might as well interrupt. “My ears are burning, ladies,” he said archly as he rounded the pillar and handed the punch to his wife.

That sent them into another peal of laughter. Though he raised an eyebrow, he was secretly pleased his wife took such delight in the pleasures of the bedchamber. Too bad they couldn’t indulge themselves for another week, or so the doctor had said.

It might as well be a year. He cast his wife a long, lascivious glance, fervently wishing she hadn’t chosen her scarlet velvet gown for this occasion. True, it was appropriate for Christmas, and though he still thought it scandalous, he had to admit his sister’s gown wasn’t any more modest.

Yet every time he saw Emily in that gown, her translucent skin glowing like delicate china and her breasts pushed up high, fuller now that she was nursing their son, he went hard as a rock. That gown always reminded him of their first time, the way she’d offered herself to him with such ill-concealed innocence.

He took a large swallow of punch. Good God, if he made it through the next seven days without ravishing her, it would be a miracle. He could kill her for wearing that gown tonight. No, what he wanted to do to her was much more pleasurable.

“Jordan, are you all right?” Emily asked, her pale brow creased in concern.

“I’m fine.” Merely randy as hell, darling. Trying to take his mind off his urge to rip her gown in half and feast on those lush breasts and sweet curves, he scanned the room. “I see that Sophie and Lawrence are here.”

Across the room, Lawrence whispered something in his wife’s ear, and her eyes lit up. Their faces were aglow, proving that everyone had been wrong to try to prevent their marriage. Jordan added, “I’m glad a few members of London society have accepted them.”

“Mostly the ones who want to irritate Lord Nesfield,” Sara responded. She shot Jordan a curious glance. “Not that it would take much to irritate him these days. I understand he’s had a series of personal and financial setbacks. His club refused to honor his membership anymore, he’s lost thousands of pounds in a shipping venture, and there’s some sort of legal battle concerning a substantial piece of his property. What a terrible lot of bad luck he’s had this year.”

“Yes, very bad luck,” Jordan repeated dryly, exchanging a glance with his wife. The man would have a great deal more bad luck before Jordan was through with him. Nothing the speculation in his sister’s eyes, Jordan changed the subject. “I wonder how Ian is adjusting to the marriage between Lawrence and Sophie.”

“I suspect he was never in love with her,” Emily said. “He hasn’t seemed too disappointed.”

In love, Jordan thought. Amazing how differently the words affected him now than a year ago. But then, he hadn’t known he would find the perfect wife—a woman whose interests in reform meshed with his own, whose frankness always entertained him, and whose body…Good God, why couldn’t he keep his mind off that subject?

“Ian didn’t even flinch when he saw Lawrence and Sophie enter,” Sara remarked, forcibly bringing Jordan back to the conversation. “And I saw him on the balcony not five minutes ago, kissing Felicity.”

“Did you now?” Emily said smugly. “That doesn’t surprise me a bit. I knew something was going on there.”

“Nonsense,” Jordan said with a snort. “Ignore my foolish sister, Emily. If Ian was kissing the girl, it was only a momentary flirtation, I assure you.”

Sara wore a calculating expression. “I don’t know if that’s all it is, Jordan. You should have seen the way he was watching her earlier. He couldn’t take his eyes off her. And he is looking for a wife, isn’t he?”

“Sara,” Jordan said condescendingly, “if you think Ian will consider marrying an opinionated bluestocking, you don’t know him very well.”

His wife and his stepsister exchanged knowing glances.

“You ought to trust your sister on this,” Emily said, a slow smile touching her lips. “She has wonderful instincts. Sara, do tell him what you told me right before our wedding.”

“Tell me what?”

Sara grinned, her eyes suddenly alight with mischief. “You remember the night of the Drydens’ ball? When the two of you met? Gideon and I realized what was going on between you two before you even climbed into that carriage.”

“What do you mean?” Jordan asked.

“You said you were taking a widow home, but Gideon had met both Emily and Lawrence, and knew she was a rector’s daughter and Lawrence was her cousin. He told me he thought you’d made a mistake.”

“For God’s sake, why didn’t you say something? I can see how that deuced pirate husband of yours would think it was all a good joke, but surely you knew better. You might have saved Emily considerable embarrassment.”

“Yes, but then she wouldn’t have met you, would she? Besides, I decided that a rector’s daughter might be exactly the thing for my brother.” She laughed. “You see? I do know a good couple when I see one.”

“That was sheer luck,” he grumbled, unaccountably irritated. It had always pleased him to think that a whim of Fate had brought him and Emily together, and he didn’t like knowing that his sister had been involved, even if it were only in the most limited capacity.

“Would you rather we hadn’t met?” his wife asked quietly, misinterpreting his scowl.

Angry at his sister for bringing the entire thing up, he cast her a pointed glance. She mumbled something about having to find her husband and hurried off, leaving them alone in their corner of the room beside the balcony doors.

“You know the answer to that,” he said softly. He took his wife’s hand and kissed it. “And if you aren’t sure, come outside, and I’ll…remind you of how I feel on the subject.”

She glanced shyly away, though she let him lead her onto the balcony. “Really, Jordan, in the middle of a ball?”

In some ways, she was still the sweet innocent he’d fallen in love with. Indeed, it was her peculiar mixture of innocence and worldly instinct that always delighted him. “Yes.” He drew her into his arms and kissed her hair.

She gazed up at him with a smile. “It’s cold out here, you silly man.”

“Exactly what I need. It’ll keep me from ravishing you the way I’ve wanted to for the past two months.”

“Ah, but you don’t have to keep from ravishing me anymore. The doctor told me today that I can resume all ‘marital activities.’ Why do you think I wore this gown tonight?”

He caught his breath, his body giving an instant response. “What the devil are we doing here then? We’re going home. Now!”

She laughed delightedly as he pulled her back into the room and headed toward their hostess. “Oh, good,” he heard her whisper beside him. “I do so like doing it in the carriage.”