A Foolish Flirtation (Reversal of Fortune #1)

by Alice Coldbreath

His conscience stirred uneasily. The damn thing had been inactive for eons, until it had slowly limped forth, sometime in the past eighteen months, to trouble him. Sometimes he wished it would go back to malfunctioning. Things had been so much easier when he had been an unprincipled swine.

“I did,” Jeremy agreed, “and yet, forgive me, my son, I envisaged your part as more of a final veto. Not the actual selector of my bride.”

Not his finest hour. Then, other memories, less pleasant, seeped from the breached vault, making him wince. Her openly admiring gaze across a ballroom. The offhand comments he would make to the other young bucks, the barely hidden smirks and laughter. He had made Emmeline a figure of fun that season, for entirely selfish reasons. He wanted nothing more than to forget how he had behaved. Didn’t he?

She flung it open, cleared her throat, and announced importantly, “Count Stefano!”

“It appears you are expecting someone else’s company at present.” When they gazed blankly back at him, he said, “A certain Count Stefano?”

Thinking of it now, Emmie did wince. She must have looked like such a little idiot, hanging off his every word but the fact was that if it had not been for those snatched moments, her societal debut would have been pure, unalleviated misery. He had enlivened her horrible London season, and she had never begrudged him his fun, even though it had been at her expense.

Emmie had wrapped up the dance cards he had written his name on, so boldly and so often, in tissue paper along with a pair of gloves that had touched his arm and an ivory fan that he had once taken out of her hand to wave in her reddened face. Placing them in a rosewood box, she had consigned them, and him, firmly to the past.

Ballentine? Unbidden, the words sprang into her mind, making her ears burn from memory alone. She ought to have slapped him, not trotted after him like an eager spaniel into that dratted conservatory.

How reckless he had been. Reckless with her reputation and reckless with his heart. It had not been until Italy, on his honeymoon, that he had realized the depth of his own feeling. What a fool he had been. Blind as well as reckless.

“Poor Hannah, poor Mr. Hardiman,” he mocked softly as he tucked the card away for safekeeping. “What about my poor Emmeline?”

“Will you though?” he asked softly. “Is it not a case of out of the frying pan and into the fire?” He did not really want the role of savior. Count Stefano was much more in his line.

“My father? He always thought I needed to reduce my waistline and as such discouraged my eating cake at all.” Jeremy swiftly revised his impression of Ballentine’s father, from doting papa to that of monstrous tyrant.

“I wish you would not joke so,” Emmeline said in a choked voice. “It—it makes me nervous and quite on edge.” This gave him pause. “How so?” She bit her lip. “It makes me fear that once again, this is all just a grand jest to you,” she said in a low, trembling voice, “and that I am once more the butt of the joke. That you, my lord, are not remotely in earnest.”

I want another child, trembled on his lips but bearing his seed might not appeal to her currently, so he quashed that thought.

“Yes, they don’t know if I will ever fully recover,” Teddy answered tragically. There was a snort heard from the direction of the window. “Some children die from scarlet fever,” he pointed out, throwing a cold look Colfax’s way before continuing sadly. “I may remain a semi-invalid for the rest of my life.”

Above all else, prepare yourself, for at the end of these two weeks I will return, and you will be mine.

This time around, she would not be forced into silhouettes that did not suit her. She wanted clothes that would flatter her and make her feel pretty, not a spectacle. Quite frankly, she did not care if she was wearing the latest fashion or not.

“My God,” he murmured. “I knew you would make a beautiful bride, but this is almost too much.”

“Hello, Teddy, you repugnant brat,” Atherton commented, his eyes falling on his godson. As Jeremy was pinning a peony to his lace collar, Teddy’s response was restrained. “Hello, revolting godfather,” he sang out.

Her eyes looked searchingly into his and Jeremy steeled himself to look honorable and dependable, two ideals he had never aspired to live up

Emmeline smiled and nodded at the next in line. “Thank you so much,” she murmured in response to their congratulations. “So kind.” As they drifted away, she whispered in an undertone, “Just because you ply them with champagne and lobster salad does not mean you can be unpardonably rude!” “My dear Emmeline, there is also mayonnaise of salmon and veal and ham pie! Pray do not minimize my efforts to provide for our guests.”

“I do not think I could fit in any more,” she said regretfully. “You were right, you provided a veritable feast for your guests.” He smiled at her. “And yet I thought only of you, Emmeline,” he admitted in a low voice, making her blush.

“Read it? But of course I have. I went straight to the bookshop and secured a copy. I read it avidly every night during my London sojourn. I made notes to discuss it at great length with you.”

“If that were the case then you would not be holding him at arm’s length, now, would you?” Emmie pressed her lips together. She ought not to answer him. The whole conversation was most improper. Instead, she heard herself ask quietly, “Do you blame me?” “No,” he admitted. “Not for that.”

He did not answer immediately, but when he did, he surprised her. “I believe I should like to stand your friend, too, someday, if you would ever allow it,” he said, sounding a little surprised about the fact himself.

“Emmeline,” he said heavily, “wild horses could not drag me from your bed tonight.”

Atherton nodded thoughtfully. “You mean to distract her with good looks. Wise. One cannot flaunt one’s beauty in tweeds.”

It may be that Emmeline would rather not write her letters in a sitting room masquerading as an Egyptian tomb.”

“What are you thinking of?” Atherton asked curiously. “The Birth of Venus,” Jeremy answered unthinkingly. Atherton laughed. “You mean to have her sleep in a scallop-shaped bed?” he enquired. “Dressed with sheets of seafoam green.” “Why not? I’d rather like that.” “I just bet you would,” Atherton said, shaking his head, “but I suspect your bride’s tastes run along more conventional lines.”

A bookroom, he thought suddenly. That was what he should have installed at Vance Park. A bookroom which he could fill with all the latest novels so she would not miss the lending library here in Bath. His mood lightened. He would do it. It would be one way to woo and win her over, and he would think of several more.

“Such an unromantic disease,” Miss Pinson said sadly.

Slowly, Emmie sat up and hugged her knees. He had wanted her then, and he wanted her now. The realization left her almost dizzy. If that were true, then she need not feel so hopelessly inadequate in her new position. Her wretched situation had simply enabled Jeremy to get something he had wanted all along, nothing more, nothing less. The idea was an oddly liberating one.

“Admiring your magnificent bosom?” he suggested lazily. She turned quite bright red. “Well, yes,” she admitted, “but now I find it was merely the tattiness of my nightgown that caught your attention, which is not at all flattering.” He gave a sudden laugh. “If I could see your bosom to admire it, then I would,” he assured her. “But alas, I cannot through that horror of a nightdress.”

“I don’t find it remotely repellent,” he countered swiftly. “I am merely trying to be accommodating. Let me know if my efforts are not appreciated and I will drop the semblance at once.”

Teddy paused as though flummoxed, then he seemed to identify the issue. “She is not your friend, Papa,” he responded sternly. “She is your wife.”

“The baby did not play with the snakes until they were dead,” Jeremy pointed out dryly. “The two of you are creating a wholly new fiction around snake-taming babies.” “A jolly fine fiction,” Teddy put in. “I’m going to pretend that’s what really happened from now on.”

For the first time in his life, he was striving to be a considerate husband. The devil of it was that the more he tried, the less he seemed to succeed.

Likely, she had been ill at ease and nervous to sleep by herself in strange surroundings. It had not occurred to him, in truth, because he was used to being selfish in his dealings with women. The realization was not a comfortable one.

“I don’t know about that,” Nye rumbled. “I like to be the one who degrades my wife’s morals.”

Teddy nodded. “It’s a lucky thing he was wearing a loincloth,” he said, dumbfounding all three ladies. Emmie felt her cheeks turn hot, while Mina went off in a coughing fit. As for Pinky, she was quite frozen in horror. “It says here,” Teddy continued, quite oblivious to their reaction, “that an earthquake caused the Colossus to snap off at the knees, whereupon it fell into the sea. Don’t you think that’s rather too bad?”

Any friends who had not abruptly dropped her, she had herself created distance from. She had not wanted to embarrass them with her change in circumstance, any more than she had wanted to mortify herself.

pinched her waist, interrupting her thoughts. “Jeremy!” “I like how soft you are here, Ballentine,” he said, his mouth very near her ear. “It affects me strangely.” His hands slid down to caress her hips and buttocks as his breath rasped against her neck. He was not lying. She could tell because he was entirely naked and aroused. She had lately learned this was not something you could really mistake.

Once it was out of the way, he started dropping ardent kisses along her stomach, another part of her body which she had always been convinced was far from the ideal. Emmie breathed through her nose and did her best not to tense, even when he gently kissed around her belly button.

“It’s not that,” she said quickly. “It’s just…” She floundered, a strange suspicion forming. “Do you like it?” she asked impulsively. “Your belly?” She nodded and his eyes dropped immediately to roam over it. “I bloody love it,” he answered with a groan. “You—?” Emmie stared at him in astonishment. “You are not serious!” “It’s beautiful,” he said so matter-of-factly that she found she could not doubt his sincerity. “I want to feel the cool, soft skin against my face. May I?”

“You have the most gorgeous belly in all the world,” he sighed with what she could only deduce was pleasure. “I’ve always thought that it was my worst feature,” she admitted. “It’s strange, hearing it so praised.”

As she recovered, breathing shakily, he crawled back up the bed and took her in his arms, stroking her hair and kissing her cheek. “My God, you’re the loveliest thing I’ve ever beheld,” he said thickly. “And I’m such an undeserving wretch too.”

“That feels so good, sweetheart,” he said, closing his eyes. “You’re so wet,” he whispered as he sank into her. “Taking me so well.”

“I do,” she gasped, wanting to please him. Wanting to say the right thing. “Still,” she blurted. “I—I always did.” His eyes flew wide, staring into her own. “Yes,” he breathed, “so did I. Always.” And just like that Jeremy Vance came apart, his eyes boring into her, his hands gripping her buttocks tight. “God, you always make me feel so good,” he groaned, and collapsed heavily on top of her.

“I wonder why around you it is easier for me to breathe, Ballentine, and”—he paused—“I find I hate myself less.”

He felt instantly relieved the monstrous fruit cake was already portioned and packaged up. “Just how many pieces are there?” he asked with some misgiving. She consulted an invoice that lay in her lap. “Three hundred and fifty.” “Good lord.” “Three hundred and forty-nine,” Teddy corrected her through a mouthful of plum cake.