This was difficult. Why couldn’t it be something tangible to interpret like, say, handwriting? She’d learned a great deal about handwriting of late. For instance, if a letter written to someone contained wide, scrolling letters, it meant the author was infatuated by the recipient. Would it be odd to ask Upton for a sample of his handwriting? It would, wouldn’t it? She shook her head and refocused on his question. “Something scandalous?” she managed to ask in a tone she hoped sounded nonchalant.

“Yes, the scandal you and Lucy are hell-bent on creating.”

“Oh, we’ve been…” Good heavens, was she perspiring? She removed her hand from his shoulder and waved it in the air briefly. “Considering our options.”

“I see,” Upton continued. “And what of Mrs. Bunbury?”

Jane had to concentrate on his words, because otherwise she was thinking about his shoulder. Specifically how good it felt under the tips of her fingers, even through her glove. The man was surprisingly muscled for being Upton. He wore impeccably tailored black evening attire with a sapphire waistcoat and a starchy white cravat that looked enticing against the bit of stubble from his chin that had scraped the soft skin of her cheeks last night. That, coupled with the heady scent of him, and she was finding it altogether too difficult to follow the thread of the conversation.

She sucked in her breath. “Mrs. Bunbury? Yes. We have made progress there.”

“What do you intend to do?” he asked.

Jane squeezed his shoulder just barely. She couldn’t resist. “Lucy says we should keep Mama guessing by constantly acting as if Mrs. Bunbury has been in our presence and left just before Mama arrives.”

He arched a dark brow. “Truly? That’s your plan?”

“Yes. For now.” Why did Upton have to smell so good?

“Seriously?”

Jane trained her gaze over his shoulder. Why did Upton have to have such heavenly hazel eyes? Or more specifically, why had she had to notice that Upton had such heavenly hazel eyes? She’d been quite satisfied with barely noticing them before, thank you very kindly. Though now he was questioning her plan, much more Upton-like of him. Good heavens. Perhaps Lucy had been mistaken about his being in love with her and now Jane was stuck thinking about the blasted color of his eyes.

“Yes,” she answered with a nod. “Between Lucy, Cass, and myself, we believe we can make it work. At least for the day or two of the wedding until we leave for London again.”

Upton’s mouth curved into a smile that made her want to kiss him. Blast it.

“How will you explain that Mrs. Bunbury isn’t traveling back to London with you?” he asked.