Treating a Sinful Earl by Henrietta Harding
Chapter 5
Jasper did not wish to attend yet another ball on Friday evening, but he secretly hoped that Catherine might be there. Since the previous ball, she was all that he thought of. Every time the Dowager Countess spoke to him, Catherine was in the back of his mind. Why had she transfixed him so?
And whilst venturing to the ball in his carriage, Felton seated across from him, Jasper surmised that it was probably too soon to tell his friend the truth. “You are rather silent,” Felton said.
“There is a lot on my mind.” Jasper looked out the window of the swaying carriage, watching as the sun came down and made space for the moon.
“I hope that ladies are on your mind for there shall be plenty to marvel at tonight. The Duke of Brighton always holds a good party. I daresay, I hope that Abigail will be there.”
In response to this, Jasper could not help but smile. Felton was much more honest about his feelings than himself, and it was nice to see Felton so blatantly head over heels for a lady that just happened to be Catherine’s friend.
“I am confident that she shall be there, from what I know of her character.”
Felton seemed to take this as an insult. “What of her character?”
“You said yourself that she attends all the balls and parties. That was why I made the statement.”
“I do not stand a chance, I think,” Felton said with a huff.
“There is no reason to give up hope. She danced with you twice and did not care who was there to witness it. I would say that is a good sign,” Jasper said by way of encouragement.
Felton brought his hands to his face. “I fear that I am far gone. She is all that I have thought of since the last ball and I fear that I shall never clear her from my thoughts.”
To this, Jasper could not reply, for he was under the same spell. Oh, why could he not be honest and tell his closest friend? Perhaps it was the one secret that he had ever kept from Felton.
“All will be well. Take a sip from your flask and muster your courage,” Jasper advised.
After this, Felton presented a rather large smile and pulled his flask from his waistcoat, taking a hearty sip. “You know me too well,” he exclaimed once the sip was done, returning the flask to his breast. “Why is it that ladies hold so much power? Once a particular lady infiltrates one’s thoughts, there is no removing her. This is the case with Abigail Hatcher.”
Jasper shook his head whilst he smiled. Yes, Felton did seem rather intoxicated with infatuation. So, why did it make him so moody? Jasper felt as light as air when he thought of Catherine. In fact, his symptoms had even abated for a day or two in the afterglow of her presence.
"Dance with other ladies,” Jasper said. “Perhaps it would help you to take your mind off of things.”
“Hogwash. Nothing will take my mind off of these matters.”
Just then, a fit of nerves took over, and Jasper said, “Hand over that flask, old man. I do not know how I am to survive yet another ball.”
Felton heartily complied to Jasper’s request, handing over the flask, and watching as Jasper took a swig. “I knew that there was a reason why we are friends,” Felton said, grinning from ear to ear.
“My god, man!” Jasper exclaimed, looking down at the flask in dismay. “How on earth do you survive spirits so strong?”
“It puts hair on your chest.” He retrieved the flask from Jasper and took another swig. “At least, that is what I keep telling myself.”
“You are going to need a whole gallon of it if you want hair on your chest. There’s scarce a hair upon your body,” Jasper teased, recalling how every time they went to take the waters in Bath, he teased Felton for being so bare.
This was not the case for Jasper. He had plenty of hair upon his chest, and it had been so from an early age. He had grown into manhood before most and was told that this was something that the ladies admired about him, but like with all other matters surrounding this, he did not pay it much attention.
“We are almost there,” Felton said, peering out the window. “The Duke of Brighton is an interesting fellow. Have you ever met his acquaintance?”
“I have not,” replied Jasper.
“He is very short. I fear that he shall be rather intimidated by you.”
“Nonsense.”
“It is true! You are like some sort of monster. I wish that I had your height and good looks.”
Jasper merely shook his head and rolled his eyes. Such matters made him rather bashful, and he considered that his appearance was of no consequence. It was his health that troubled him, and this could perhaps not be remedied.
As Felton had stated, the estate of the Duke of Brighton was soon upon them, and Jasper viewed all the various carriages dropping off guests. He surmised that it was perhaps the largest estate that he had ever been to in Bath, and Jasper found himself eager to meet the rather short, Duke of Brighton.
Upon alighting from the carriage, they passed through the entrance of the house that was lined with footmen in white wigs. Jasper thought it pompous that the Duke put his servants on display thus, but it was customary during the Season in Bath for those with a great deal of wealth to show it off with relish.
Entering the foyer, Jasper discovered more servants, and greeting his guests, stood the Duke of Brighton. Felton had been accurate in regard to his height, for there was a good chance that he was shorter than five feet.
“Your Grace, I believe that you have never met the Earl of Simmons,” Felton announced.
“No, Mr Andrews, I do not believe that I have.”
“Simmons, this is Brighton.”
Jasper put out his hand and noted that the Duke had a rather firm handshake for a man his size. He had serious black eyes, almost matching his black hair. The Duke gazed at him intently. “Why is it that you have never attended one of my balls before?” Brighton asked.
“It is not always my cup of tea, but my friend Mr Andrews seeks to change all of that.”
“That I do,” Felton replied with a smile.
Brighton nodded and then clasped his hands behind his back. “There is nothing to fear, Simmons. And I hope that we might become fast friends.”
Felton asked, “And where is the duchess?”
“She is greeting guests in the ballroom. If you gentlemen would care to enter, it is right this way,” Brighton said affably, motioning towards the ballroom that was already filled with guests.
“We shall make our way promptly,” Jasper said, feeling that customary sweat come to his brow at the mere mention of it.
As Jasper and Felton entered the ballroom, they both looked all around, no doubt each searching for the objects of their affection. Sadly, Jasper did not spot Catherine and feared that she might not attend.
“I have never seen this many guests,” Felton proclaimed, bringing a hand to his waistcoat and then swiftly removing it. For Jasper, he assumed that Felton was going for his flask and banished the notion at the last minute.
Jasper did not know if his mind was playing tricks on him, but it seemed as though many eyes turned upon him. What was everything staring at? Was there something amiss with his apparel? He leaned into Felton and whispered, “We are garnering much attention.”
“They are looking at you and not at me,” Felton assured him.
“Why should that be?”
“Because you are the handsomest devil in the room and rarely attend functions. This is how it would always be if you attended more balls, which you will. You will become accustomed to it.”
As they continued to walk around the ballroom, every time that Jasper passed a lady, her fan came out and she beat it in front of her face. This was a gesture that Jasper could never understand. What did it signify? Surely, it was not because of the heat. But then again, Jasper was aware that females used their fans as a sort of signal in many situations. He had been told of this but never bothered to learn that secret language.
This reminded him that Catherine had never had a fan. She presented herself plainly…and beautifully. It was as though when he was in her presence, she had had nothing to hide. Jasper found this remarkably appealing.
Just then, right across the way, he spotted Catherine! Jasper could not take his eyes off of her in her blue gown with a yellow sash around her trim waist. The gown was low-cut, revealing décolletage that he found quite irresistible.
“My god,” Felton said, turning his head away. “It is Abigail. I suddenly find that my knees are shaking.”
“Remain steady,” Jasper advised, as much for himself as for his friend.
“How am I to remain steady when my entire body is trembling. My word, she is a beautiful creature.”
Not as beautiful as Catherine, Jasper wished to say.
“Let us approach at once,” Jasper said.
“Immediately? She will know of my desperation.”
“It will help to calm your nerves, I assure you. They will only grow if you delay.”
Felton seemed to heed Jasper’s advice, for he approached Abigail with Jasper trailing just behind him. Sure enough, once they were before her, Abigail took out her fan, but Catherine did not. Wonder of wonders, she was even more beautiful than the last time that he beheld her.
“Ladies, I am so happy to see that you attended,” Felton said, bowing his head.
“I would not miss it for the world,” Abigail said, still beating her fan. “The Duke is a close friend of mine, as is the duchess. Their parties are always capital. Do you not agree, Lady Trowbridge?” Abigail turned towards Catherine with a smile upon her lips.
Catherine finally spoke, and her voice was music to Jasper’s ears. “I am glad that you convinced me to come.” She finally turned her eyes upon him. “I must say that I felt trepidation, but Lady Hatcher is trying to get me to be more social.”
Jasper grinned like a schoolboy. “Mr Andrews forced me to attend, as well. And I am happy that he did, for it is pleasant to encounter you once more.”
Oh, was Jasper saying too much? No, from the delighted expression upon Catherine’s face, he knew that she was pleased by his statement. “I feel much the same, my lord.”
“Please, call me Simmons. We are already acquainted with one another.”
“Simmons,” she said warmly. “And do feel free to use my given name.”
Little did she know that her given name had been reverberating in his head for several days now. To him, Catherine was the most beautiful name that he had ever heard. “Yes, if you are comfortable, I shall call you Catherine.”
In the silence that followed, Jasper knew that both Abigail and Felton were staring at him. But he could not pull his eyes away from Catherine. Selina’s arrival broke the reverie. “I am so sorry that I am late. Oh!” she exclaimed, spotting Jasper. “My lord, I am so surprised that you have come.”
“We were just remarking upon that,” Jasper went on. “Mr Andrews insisted that I attend. He is the only man on this earth who can convince me to do anything,” Jasper quipped.
“Then we are so happy that is true,” Selina said. “For you have been absent from such events for far too long.”
Yes, according to the eager look on Catherine’s face when he glanced at her, he had been absent for too long.