"Let him wait. It will remind him that he isn't quite the master of all he surveys and it will give him something to which to look forward." Lady Dunbridge reached out and smoothed a stray lock of Sarah's hair into place. "And it will keep you from seeming overly eager for his company."
Sarah frowned. "We'll be late to Lady Garrison's."
Lady Dunbridge shook her head. "We aren't going to be late. But it wouldn't matter if we were, as long as you are worth waiting for." She smiled at her niece, then turned Sarah around so that she could see her reflection in the mirror. "And we've made certain that you are worth waiting for."
Jarrod arrived at Ibbetson's Hotel at half past seven o'clock of the evening. When they appeared in the hotel lobby, the ladies from Helford Green had kept him waiting a full ten minutes.
"Good evening, Lord Shepherdston."
Jarrod halted his impatient pacing and turned to greet them. "Good evening, Miss Eckersley, Lady Dunbridge."
He noticed Sarah's hair first. Her thick, curly red hair was piled into a loose bun on the top of her head and held into place by a black velvet-covered clasp. A dozen or so long tendrils had been allowed to escape the bun and curled artfully around her face and neck. Her hairstyle was simple and elegant and it suited her completely.
Jarrod's brown eyes darkened. He would have liked to have seen more of her, but she was enveloped from shoulders to shoes in black. Black gloves. Black stockings. Black shoes. Black velvet evening cape. The same black velvet cape she'd worn to his house the night before.
"We'd better hurry if we want to avoid arriving late," Sarah reminded him, lifting her skirts in her hand and moving toward the doorway.
"You're beautiful." Jarrod said the first thing that came to mind and realized it was the absolute truth.
"How can you tell?" Sarah asked. "When you haven't seen my gown yet?"
Jarrod suddenly found himself hard-pressed to keep from imagining what she was or was not wearing beneath her cloak.
"I don't have to see your gown to know that it's a most becoming garment and that you look beautiful in it," he replied in a husky tone of voice that bore little resemblance to his usual speaking voice.
Jarrod's voice sent shivers up and down Sarah's spine. "You're too kind, Lord Shepherdston." She looked up at him from beneath the cover of her lashes, then gave him another brilliant smile.
"I'm not the least bit kind," Jarrod said. "I'm speaking the truth."
"Then I appreciate your honesty," Sarah said. "And you needn't worry, for I'm wearing a very proper evening gown beneath my cloak."
She had read his mind. "I'm relieved to hear it," he answered.
"I thought you might be." Sarah chuckled. "And may I say that you look very handsome in your evening clothes?"
There was no denying that a powerful attraction was suddenly at work, for the very air they breathed was charged with electricity.
"You may indeed." He leaned close enough to catch a tantalizing whiff of the fragrance Sarah had used to rinse her hair. Lemons and roses, with a hint of vanilla.
"I prefer what you were wearing last night," Sarah said in a lowered voice. "But you're almost as handsome fully dressed."
Jarrod swallowed hard. "The clothes I wore last night are only appropriate for quiet evenings at home, but I thank you for the compliment just the same."
"You're welcome, Jays," Sarah said. "What a coincidence! Because the clothes I wore last night are only appropriate for quiet evenings at home, so I hope I shall have the opportunity to spend another quiet evening at home with you. And that I shall have the pleasure of seeing you dressed that way again soon."
Damned if she wasn't trying to seduce him again with her husky voice and that expression in her eyes. Jarrod's body tightened in response and his imagination ran rampant as he began to speculate on Sarah's definition of a very proper evening gown.
Lady Dunbridge cleared her throat. "I apologize for interrupting, my dears, but you did arrange for us to receive invitations to Lady Garrison's ball, Lord Shepherdston, and I would be remiss in my duty as a chaperone if I didn't suggest that we at least make an appearance." She patted Jarrod's arm. "Richmond is a distance and I, for one, would
like to avoid the worst of the traffic."
Jarrod blinked in bemusement, then flinched as if she'd scalded him. "Lady Dunbridge."
"Very good, Lord Shepherdston," Lady Dunbridge drawled in a patronizing tone. "You remembered my name. Did you also remember that I am supposed to accompany you to Lady Garrison's?"
"Yes, ma'am." Jarrod nodded.
"Then I suggest we exit the hotel and climb into your handsome coach in order that we may begin the journey," Lady Dunbridge replied, taking up her evening shawl and fan and leading the way through the front entrance of the hotel and down the gravel walkway to Shepherdston's coach.