Scandal - COMPLETED

Chapter Five

Our host for the evening, the Viscount Delmar, had recently inherited his position. The previous viscount passed without issue, so the title had been transferred to his eldest cousin: the portly young man currently seated at the head of the dinner table. As he was unmarried, the seat opposite him fell to the ranking noblewoman. In this case, me. The viscount had been effusively grateful when I had accepted playing the part of impromptu hostess, for he had just taken his seat in the House of Lords and my husband was something of an idol to him. The rest of the thirty-some-odd guests were organized by rank, those with titles seated nearest to the viscount, and those without closer to me. Because of this, John and I were separated by a sea of people, giving me the space I needed to clear my mind of the last remnants of desire and worry.

The previous viscount had moved in different circles than my husband and I; those that were considered much faster than our own. He had died, quite violently, in an impromptu horse race at a house party a few months past. Rumor was that he had been wildly drunk, and had attempted to force his mount up over a hedge that was clearly too tall for it to clear. The horse had thrown him, and he had landed headfirst on a rather jagged rock. To add insult to injury, the horse had trampled him afterward.

Though I had attended soirees and masquerades thrown in the main ballroom, which was lovely if a little plain for my tastes, this was the first time I had been inside the grand dining room, where the previous viscount had played host to his closer acquaintances. I rather regretted that now, for where the ballroom was functional and cold, this room was as opulent as it was inviting. I would have liked to speak with the man who had commissioned such a breathtaking room, asked him which artist had painted these stunning frescoes, where he had purchased such lavish wallpaper. Perhaps I could send Harriet here soon, to pose my questions to the butler and housekeeper, who would no doubt know the answers.

I glanced up as I took a bite of trout, my gaze lingering on the massive twin chandeliers that hung from the vaulted ceiling high overhead. Their intricate scrollwork was gilded in gold leaf, and a veritable horde of candles was held aloft by their innumerable arms. Delicate crystals dangled beneath each, their facets reflecting the candlelight down toward our party, where it glanced off silverware, flashed across wine goblets, and flirted with the jewels that adorned the guests, making it seem as though the dining room had been invaded by an army of enchanted fireflies.

I followed the dancing lights over the crowd, taking in the riot of color and conversation that spread out around of me. The women wore beautifully tailored gowns of silk and muslin that gathered just beneath their breasts to fall in loose folds to the tips of their slippers. Keeping with the current trend, they ranged in pale tones from mint green to the most delicate shade of pink that I had ever seen. In contrast, the men paired cream colored waistcoats with vibrantly hued dinner jackets, dressing them up with patterned, intricately tied cravats. John, at the opposite end of the table, was one of the few points of starkness and sobriety. He spoke calmly with the man seated across from him, the aging Duke of Glover, who was, at times, a close political ally.

I studied my husband's profile as his lips moved, wishing I could hear the words that slipped between them, wondering what he could be saying that had put such a wily expression on the older man's face. As though he could feel my gaze on him, John turned his head in my direction. He wore his usual mask of frosty indifference, but even at this distance I could see what I now suspected was a lingering heat that threatened to melt it.

Our eyes locked, and the room fell away, leaving he and I alone in a calm not unlike that before a storm. His gaze transported me back to the carriage and the promise of pleasure between us. A warm bloom of heat blossomed open in my chest and unfurled its petals in response, coloring my cheeks pink. I was forced to look away, feigning a cough as I struggled to control myself.