What shook him more than anything else, though, was that he instantly remembered every detail of that evening as if it had all been yesterday, when in reality it had been… how long ago? Two years? Three? Four?

A long time ago, anyway.

He was supposed to have forgotten all about it, was he not?

That was the only wager he had ever lost, before or since. Not that he had really lost it. He might have won it with ease with a week and a half to spare. He thought he had long forgotten the whole sorry episode, but if he had forgotten, then why had he been so thunderstruck when she walked into the library?

He noticed that Con hurried her out of the room as fast as he decently could. He had always wondered if Con had ever heard of that wager. Nothing had ever been said between them. He suspected that plenty would have been said, though-and done-if he had ever claimed victory.

Not that Con was anybody’s angel. Far from it. But for some unfathomable reason he seemed fond of his second cousins even though they-or Merton, at least-had taken the title and properties and fortune that would have been his if his father had only married his mother two days sooner than he had. Before Con’s birth, that was, instead of just after it, stranding him forever in the land of the illegitimate and unable-to-inherit. It was impossible to know how Con felt about not being Earl of Merton himself. He never spoke of it.

Perhaps secretly he hated Merton.

Jasper wondered after the evening was over if he should perhaps avoid the main entertainments for the rest of the Season, even the ones to which he had already sent acceptances, and confine his activities to the gentlemen’s clubs and Tattersall’s and Jackson’s boxing saloon and other safe places where he could be certain to meet only gentlemen.

But that would be a craven thing to do. Good Lord, when had he ever hidden from anyone? Was he now going to hide away from a woman whom he had once kissed and fondled and not possessed? He could scarcely believe the idea had even occurred to him.

And what the devil was she doing still unmarried? She must be well into her twenties by now. And no one would ever convince him that she had not had legions of offers over the years. Con had been right about one thing even though he had been teasing her and deliberately flattering her. She was more beautiful now than she had been two years ago-or three or four or however the devil many years it had been. And she had been lovely enough even then, by Jove. She had lost that coltish look in the meanwhile, though she was still slender enough to cause a man to imagine spanning her waist with his two hands and drawing her…

Well. Dash it all.

He decided to honor the invitations he had already accepted, the next one being a grand ball given by the new Lady Parmeter, whose father was a wealthy cit and not a gentleman at all, and who had therefore been willing to invite anyone who was likely to attend.

Even him.

Not that anyone but the very highest sticklers ever pointedly excluded him, it was true, and those were fusty events that he would not have wanted to attend anyway.

Perhaps the Huxtable sisters would be too high in the instep to put in an appearance at the Parmeter ball. Or perhaps they had arrived in town too recently to have been invited at all.

The event was well attended as it turned out, a fact that was no doubt gratifying to Lady Parmeter. There was a crowd in the ballroom when he arrived somewhat late and looked about him after passing along the receiving line.

Almost the first persons he saw were the Misses Huxtable.

Of course.

There was somehow an inevitability to it all.

They ought to have been attracting no attention at all. Miss Huxtable herself was several years older than Katherine Huxtable-the Duchess of Moreland was their sister and between them in age, was she not?-and therefore ought to be dangerously close to being long in the tooth. Yet in reality she was as lovely as her sister, though she was much darker and more voluptuous of figure-more to his usual tastes, in fact.

They were both attracting a great deal of attention, and plenty of prospective dancing partners, a fact that must be somewhat disconcerting to the veritable army of very young ladies making their debuts and attempting to take the ton by storm and lead the most eligible bachelor off in leg shackles.

Jasper spent much of the evening in the card room, where he-and his money-were always welcome. He had little inclination to dance. Which was probably just as well. He still found that there were mothers who looked at him askance as if they thought he was about to lead their daughters to the middle of the dance floor and proceed to ravish them there.

Very often when he attended balls he spent the whole evening in the card room. He did not particularly enjoy dancing. Even less did he enjoy watching ladies and gentlemen of normal good sense mincing or cavorting about a floor trying to look elegant and graceful while at the same time attracting as much admiring attention as possible.

Tonight more than ever he had good reason to keep his nose well clear of the ballroom. But young Merton came looking for him just when he was finishing a hand and gathering in his winnings.

“Ah, there you are, Monty,” he said. “You ought to be dancing. There are so many beauties out there that my eyes are dazzled.”

He grinned cheerfully.

“And I suppose they all want to dance with you,” Jasper said, getting to his feet and setting a hand on the boy’s shoulder.

“Well,” Merton said sheepishly, “I am Merton, you know.”

“Which fact will endear you to every female heart until you finally marry the owner of one of them,” Jasper said. “But those blond curls and that smile probably have something to do with it too.”

The boy looked like an angel, in fact. Fortunately, he possessed enough spirit and firmness of character to save him from appearing either weak or insipid. Jasper genuinely liked him. And the boy was new in town. It was no wonder if he was attracting far more than his share of female attention.

“Come and meet Meg,” Merton said. “My eldest sister. She did not come down to the library the other evening when Kate did.”

Ah. Now what? Hide himself in another game? Accept the inevitable? He accepted the inevitable, largely because he did not like that word hide.

“My pleasure,” he said with cheerful untruth, squeezing the boy’s shoulder.

The orchestra was taking a break. Had it not been, of course, Merton would not have been at liberty to come to the card room. He was much in demand as a dancing partner-and it was definitely not just because he was the Earl of Merton. One had only to look at the smitten, worshipful faces of the very young ladies as he passed to understand that.

It all made Jasper feel like a wizened grandfather at the grand age of twenty-eight. Though his own sudden appearance in the ballroom was not going unnoticed, of course. His lips twitched with amusement-until he recalled where they were going. And if he had entertained any faint hope that Katherine Huxtable would not be standing with her sister, it was soon dashed.

She saw him coming and raised her eyebrows-and her chin. She raised her fan too and wafted it with furious enough vigor to cool an army had there been one standing directly behind her.

“Meg,” Merton said with cheerful unawareness of anything untoward in the atmosphere about him, “here is Lord Montford. I promised to bring him along to introduce him. He is Con’s friend-and mine too. It is a pity Con could not be here tonight. This is my eldest sister, Monty. She was like a mother to me for years after our parents died-and a better mother no fellow could ever desire.”

He beamed affectionately at her as she curtsied.

“Lord Montford,” she said.

Her eyes were as blue as her sister’s. He had expected that they would be dark, to match her hair. She was indeed a rare beauty. They were a family of beauties, in fact-with the possible exception of the duchess, though she was no antidote either.

“Miss Huxtable?” He bowed. “Miss Katherine?”

She did not curtsy. And she was going to shake her hand right off her wrist if she did not stop fanning her cheeks with such desperate intent.

He turned back to her sister.

“May I hope to lead you into the next set?” he asked. He supposed Merton might expect it of him, and the lady had not recoiled in horror at the sight of him. Either she knew nothing of his notoriety or she was made of stern stuff, like her sister.

“Oh,” she said, looking genuinely sorry, “I have already promised the set to the Marquess of Allingham, my lord. He asked me a while ago. But I am much obliged to you for your courtesy.”

He inclined his head to her. He could decently fade away to distant parts now.

“Ah, here he comes,” she said, looking beyond him and smiling a warm welcome at Allingham.

“I am to sit out with Miss Acton,” Merton said a little ruefully. “She is not allowed to waltz, you know, as she has not yet been granted permission by any of the patronesses of Almack’s. I had better go and find her. Excuse me, Meg? Kate? Monty?”

And he was gone.

So, within the next few seconds, was Miss Huxtable.

Which left Jasper stranded with the younger sister.

A waltz.

Hmm.

Distant parts-in the form of the card room-beckoned urgently.

“I have heard,” he said instead of bowing and hurrying away as fast as he decently could, “that moving a single body part continuously, without rest, can cause rheumatics in later life.”