“What happened between the two of you at the theatre?” Nora asked, her dark eyes fixed on Jilly’s face and the scarlet blush that rose there.
“Nothing,” she said, too quickly, too stridently. “Nothing happened. Why would you think anything had happened?”
“Because the air fairly sizzles between the two of you,” Nora said, fanning herself with her fingers as though she were in danger of swooning. Her lustrous dark curls bobbed with the motion, shimmering in the candlelight, and she fluttered her lashes in coquettish suggestion.
“Don’t be ridiculous—”
“Sizzles, Jilly.” She lowered her voice to a murmur. “He’s been staring at you all evening. I swear I’ve never seen a man so besotted. I’d thought to ask what he did to you, but I think the fairer question would be: what did you do to him?”
“Nothing!” Jilly said again, and at least that much was true. She had done nothing; she had not known anything to do. Which, now that she considered it, seemed terribly unfair. She might not possess a great deal of experience in matters carnal, but she was relatively certain that what had passed between them had not been nearly as satisfying for James as it had been for her. And she thought that if she were to discuss it with Nora, Nora would be shocked, scandalized, and also probably too delighted for Jilly’s comfort. It wasn’t that she couldn’t trust Nora to keep a secret, or even that she felt that Nora would condemn her for her behavior—that was certainly not the case. It was just that what had happened felt far too private and personal to share, even with her closest friend.
“I’m certain something happened,” Nora said. “For the love of God, Robert is six racehorses richer this morning, Jilly—six.” She gave a longsuffering sigh. “I shall never hear the end of it. Honestly, you owe me for that alone—my husband is crowing to anyone who will listen of his good fortune. It’s just horses in his head now.”
Jilly choked on her champagne. “He’s not telling people—”
“Oh, of course not,” Nora said, waving her hand dismissively. “He’s saying he won them off Rushton in a wager. He wants those horses, but not at the expense of your reputation.” She slanted Jilly a coy glance. “Of course, now Rushton’s reputation as an inveterate gambler is making the rounds. He’s doubtless the laughingstock of his club.”
Somehow, Jilly didn’t think James would care. He knew the truth of how he’d lost the horses. And she didn’t think he would spill their secret merely to salvage his own reputation.
“Oh, come on,” Nora said. “You must tell me.” She seized Jilly by the wrist and dragged her toward the terrace. And Jilly went, but only because she could feel the heat of James’ gaze on her from across the ballroom, and it sizzled on her skin just as Nora had said.
The heat of the day had been chased away by a smattering of cloud cover, and Jilly felt rain in the air, the humidity collecting in her artfully arranged curls.