Page 96 of Irresistible
So instead of picking at tired wounds, Jess said, “He was at the Wexfords’ dinner the other night.”
“Was he?” Her mother’s eyes lit. “Why didn’t you tell me?” She waved her hand. “Never mind. I can well imagine. You wouldn’t want me to encourage anything or, God forbid, stick my nose in. What sort of impression did you make?”
Jess nearly smiled, but that would reveal too much. “A good one, I think.” Right up until she’d refused his marriage proposal. She’d leave that part out.
“Then let us go speak with him.” Jess’s mother cut right through the now-dispersing crowd that had been around Lord Gregory with relative ease. But then she’d had years of such navigation.
As they neared Dougal, Jess’s step faltered. Would he even want to see her? She’d refused him.
Wait, did this mean she wanted to change her mind? Would she accept his proposal without his love knowing, as she did now, that she loved him?
She considered walking right past him and out of the ballroom, but it was too late. His gaze met hers. The man who’d led a life of secrecy and subterfuge was in full effect. His expression was pleasant, but revealed nothing to her.
“Lord Fallin,” Jess’s mother said loudly, her lips curved into a beguiling smile. “We are so pleased to see you.” She made sure Jess moved to stand right in front of him.
Dougal bowed to her and then to Jess. “Allow me to introduce my father, Lord Stirling, and my cousin, Robert Clark. Da, Robbie, may I present Mrs. Goodfellow and Miss Goodfellow.”
Jess made a graceful curtsey, and her mother did the same. “I’m so pleased to make your acquaintance, my lord.” She meant every word. To meet Dougal’s father was a wonderful honor she’d never expected. “Lord Fallin speaks so well of you.”
“Does he?” Stirling chuckled lightly as he glanced toward his son. “I might wonder why he mentioned me to you.” His gaze took on an assessing quality as if he were solving a puzzle.
“This is the lady I spoke of,” Dougal said.
Robbie’s eyes glinted as he met Jess’s gaze. “Well met, Miss Goodfellow. Ye must possess an astonishing fine character to suffer Dougal here.”
Dougal rolled his eyes, and Jess could feel the close camaraderie between the two men. She had so much she wanted to ask Dougal about the family he’d barely mentioned. He’d kept a great deal from her, she realized. Was that on purpose, or was it just that he hid things from everyone? She suspected it was the latter.
Jess’s mother touched her forearm. “This all sounds very promising.” The excitement in her tone was palpable. Jess hoped she wouldn’t combust.
At the same time, Jess couldn’t help but also feel a surge of elation that Dougal had told his family about her. She opened her mouth to say that she was delighted and flattered, but she was interrupted by a most inopportune arrival.
“Could it be the Smythes?”
Jess and Dougal swung their heads at precisely the same moment. There, standing in a London ballroom were theChesmores.
Gil had spoken, his blue eyes wide with shock. Mary appeared equally stunned, her mouth open as she stared at Jess and Dougal. Being Mary, she recovered quickly with a bright smile. “Itisthe Smythes! My goodness, I nearly didn’t recognize you. Your hair looks so different.” She turned her attention to Dougal. “And you aren’t wearing your spectacles.”
“Who on earth are the Smythes?” Jess’s mother asked. She gaped at the Chesmores as if they were mythical monsters from the sea.
“Our very dear friends,” Mary responded.
Gil had smiled too, but his ebullience faded, his brow furrowing. “Perhaps they are not the Smythes, my cygnet,” he said quietly, reaching gently for his wife’s arm. “We may be mistaken.”
“Of course we aren’t. I realize they look a bit different, but they are the people who came to investigate us.”
The word investigate landed like a stone to Jess’s ears. From the corner of her eye, she caught the earl murmuring something to Dougal. Did he know? Had Dougal told him about his secret life?
Jess’s mother puffed out her considerable chest. “I don’t know who you think my daughter is, but she is Miss Jessamine Goodfellow. And this is the Viscount Fallin and his father, theEarl of Stirling. You are grossly mistaken if you think they are anyone named Smythe or that you’ve met them before.”
And there was Jess’s father standing just behind Mary. He’d moved closer to hear what was going on. As had many—many—other people. They were now at the center of a crowd larger than had surrounded poor Lord Gregory.
“I don’t understand,” Mary said, looking quite confused. “How can these not be the Smythes? I would know my friend anywhere—and they share the same Christian name. How many Jessamines do we know? Precisely one.” She looked to Dougal. “Isn’t your name Dougal?”
Dougal’s eyes met Jess’s. He gave his head an infinitesimal shake and mouthedI’m sorry.
Gil pulled Mary close and whispered in her ear. She gasped and clapped her hand to her mouth.
“How does she know your name?” Jess’s mother asked with quiet urgency. “Why does she think you’re married to Fallin?”
