Page 40 of His Scandalous Viscountess
Immediately she extracted herself from Jules’ arms and rushed to Flint’s side. “Were you hurt?”
Flint looked up at her, surprised by her open display of concern. “It’s nothing, really. Barely felt it.”
“Come, let me at least get you a cool rag to ease the swelling.”
Ros was leading him toward the open door as Flint’s cheeks began to turn a little pink.
Wolf smirked, even as he turned to deal with Wallthorpe. But the unprincipled cad had vanished. He sighed.
“He slipped out.” Jules watched her sister walk with Flint into the hallway. “I imagine he’ll think twice before trying such a thing again, though I am curious as to what happened. How did she go from dancing with that young man to being alone with Wallthorpe?”
“An excellent question. I suppose we should go find the young gentleman in question.”
Wolf held out his arm and waited to feel the warmth and weight of her hand as she tucked it into the offered crook.
Jules nodded and set her hand on his sleeve. “A capital idea.”
They left Ros to fuss over Flint, who looked even more uncomfortable as a maid joined them and assisted Ros in showering him with female attention of a distinctly non-carnal nature, something he was not at all accustomed to.
After making a circuit of the ballroom, Wolf and Julia found the young man who’d originally partnered with Ros. As they approached, he turned white. Since Wolf knew he had himself refrained from scowling, he glanced at Jules. Even in profile, he could see that she had murder in her glittering green eyes.
“Easy now, love. He’s just a young man, prone to foolish mistakes.”
She snorted, but she did make some attempt to smooth out her features. Once they stopped before the gentleman, Wolf made the requisite introductions. Facing the young Mr. Jessop, he posed his question in a calm—even casual—manner. “I do hope you can help us clear up how it came to pass that Mrs. Smith was dancing with you and then, before the set had ended, she was not.”
Mr. Jessop jammed a finger down the collar of his shirt and made a futile attempt to separate the fabric from his neck. Unfortunately for him, it appeared that someone in his household had appeared to be overly liberal with the starch in his winged-tip collar. “Well, you see… my lord,” he said and continued to fidget.
The young man’s father, Sir Jessop, appeared at that very moment. “Lord Wolfington, is all well?”
Wolf turned to the older man, who he’d had occasion to chat with. “I’m afraid your son was just about to explain how he was dancing with Mrs. Smith one minute, but then somehow wasn’t the next, which led to her being manhandled by a rather unsavory sort.”
The young man’s father sighed. “Edwin, tell Lord Wolfington what occurred. Stop dawdling.”
Wolf stood silently and waited, even as Jules crossed her arms in obvious impatience. Also, if she wasn’t careful, her breasts just might escape her rather plunging neckline. His cock twitched in the most inconvenient way as his focus was now split between the nervous Mr. Jessop and Jules’ bosom, which seemed in eminent danger of spilling free.
“Well, my lord. I was dancing with Mrs. Smith, and then Lord Wallthorpe cut in.” The young man shrugged. “I’m afraid he did not give me an opportunity to reject his request, and despite the lady’s protests, he swept her away.”
Pinching the bridge of his nose, Wolf reached for calm. “And yet you did not come seek out myself or Lord Flintshire to apprise us of the situation?”
“I- I-” The young man’s cheeks turned bright pink. “I was ashamed I failed to stand up to him. She very obviously did not wish to dance with him.”
“My lord, please take my humble apologies for my son’s inaction. I shall certainly have a conversation with him regarding appropriate etiquette in such a situation, should he encounter a similar one in the future.”
Then Sir Jessop snapped his heels together and bowed, clearly a retired military man.
“Don’t be too hard on him. Other than failing to alert Mrs. Smith’s chaperone, there was little he could have done under the circumstances.”
With a nod, Wolf turned and drew Jules along with him.
“Well, you certainly let that young man off easily,” she huffed as they stepped away.
He grunted and sidestepped a lady whose unruly skirts were swaying as she strode forcefully past them. “If you believe young Mr. Jessop is going to get off lightly, you are mistaken. His father is a decorated soldier with a strong sense of discipline. I imagine his son shall not make such a mistake again.”
She looked back over her shoulder, and then returned her gaze to him. “He won’t harm the boy, will he?”
“Not at all, but I do imagine the young Mr. Jessop will have a challenging day tomorrow. My father would make me join the stable boys in shoveling out the stalls as punishment if I failed”—he hesitated, surprised he had spoken of the man—”to meet his standards.”
Julia stumbled a bit, maybe equally surprised by his mention of his father. However, unwilling to further discuss his unbending parent, he steered them toward the shadowed terrace.
