Debutantes Don't Date. Kristina O'Grady
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by anyone else?”
“Too late for that, Victoria, what’s done is done. But you will have to find her chaperone, Jasper.” Neal turned towards the lady in question and raised his voice. “Miss Lancaster, with whom did you arrive this evening?”
“Hmmm?” She relinquished her inspection of the lighting, and turned towards them. “Oh, I came this afternoon with the rest of the crew. Long before any guests arrived. Speaking of which, I do need to get back to work.” She walked towards them and stuck out her hand. “It was lovely to meet you all, do be sure to enjoy the rest of your evening.” She had plastered a perfect smile on her face, as though she was used to pacifying difficult guests.
Her hand stayed outstretched for a moment too long before Neal stepped forward to claim it. Something clenched in Jasper’s stomach as Neal brought her hand to his lips. Miss Lancaster’s face coloured and Jasper wondered if she always blushed so easily.
Neal didn’t release her hand, but used it to lead her to the settee. Jasper bristled when Neal took the seat next to her. He left his sister to look after herself and made his way over to them and sat in the chair nearest Miss Lancaster.
He should’ve known better.
Victoria cleared her throat and raised her eyebrow at him.
Damn. He extricated himself from his seat and gallantly offered it to Victoria. By the time he had fetched another chair from the other side of the room, the conversation was well on its way again.
“…escort? No, I didn’t pay anyone to come with me, and if I did, I wouldn’t tell anyway.” Her laughter filled the room. The musical sound shot straight to Jasper’s groin and in that moment he decided he would do anything to make her laugh again.
She opened her reticule and after a moment of intense searching she pulled a small, smooth metal case from its depths. She opened the case and handed them each a piece of paper. Jasper looked at the card in his hand.
A calling card.
Sinclair Functions Ltd.
Parties with a difference Senior Party Planner Grace Lancaster (212) 527-8636 [email protected] www.sinclairfunctions.com
“You plan parties?” Victoria asked after a moment.
“Yes. But not just parties. We plan weddings, balls, like this one, conferences, birthday parties, engagement parties, expos, anniversaries, you name it, we can organise anything you like.”
“I’ve never heard of a ‘party planner’ before.”
“You haven’t? That’s weird. Surely you’ve watched The Wedding Planner?”
“Miss Lancaster, who exactly did you come with tonight?” Neal was obviously tired of this absolutely bizarre conversation. “I need a name.”
“Well, my boss is here. Ron Sinclair. You can ask him. You can even ask the Duchess of Kensington if you like. She’s the one who hired us for this function.” The tone of her voice changed. She was also getting tired of the conversation. “I really need to be going now. I thank you for your time and your help with my wardrobe malfunction, Mr…? Sorry I didn’t catch your name.” Her eyes bore into his and Jasper’s stomach clenched again and something lower stirred back to life.
“Jasper. You can call me Jasper.” Somewhere far away he heard Victoria gasp and say his name.
“Well. Thank you. But I need to go. Have a wonderful night.” She rose and headed to the door.
“Wait.” Jasper jumped to his feet; she couldn’t just walk away from him. “I need to know. Why me? Why did you single me out?”
“What d’you mean?”
“Why did you take me into the alcove tonight? Was it for my money? Or was it revenge?”
“Revenge? I don’t think so. I don’t even know who you are. Look, this has been a slice, but I really need to get back out there.”
That couldn’t be right. Surely she knew who he was? “I’m terribly sorry, Miss Lancaster, allow me to properly introduce myself. I’m Jasper Vincent Colin Mossman, Earl of Bingham. But I’m sure you knew that when you singled me out.”
Seriously? What was wrong with these people? Had they all had a turn or did madness run in their family? Whatever it was, it was seriously freaking her out! Why were they so desperate to meet who she came with? They were behaving as though she’d committed a heinous crime. Granted, Ron wouldn’t be too impressed she’d kissed one of the guests, but did he really need to know? The way these people were behaving, she’d be lucky to get off lightly. She might as well kiss her dream of living in Paris goodbye.
God, her head hurt. She must’ve hit it harder than she thought. When would this night be over? All she wanted to do was curl up in her hotel bed and sleep for a week. But she couldn’t do that. Not yet. Not until this blasted party was over. Ron didn’t expect it to wind down until at least sunrise.
God, this was so embarrassing. If she knew she’d be involved in an interrogation, she wouldn’t have led him into the alcove. No kiss was worth this…no matter how good it was. She could feel her face redden at the memory.
But what she really wanted to know was what was up with those lights? She examined the chandelier again. Maybe if she stood on a chair she could get a better look. She glanced at the trio of weirdos and thought better of it. They’d probably call the cops on her. How did candles end up in those chandeliers? It created a certain ambience, she would give it that, but who would have replaced the real lights with candles? Especially without her knowing? Maybe it was an optical illusion; lights designed to look like candles. Now why hadn’t she thought of that? She made a mental note to find them for her next event.
Now that she’d sorted that out she could bring her mind to the task at hand. She needed to finish this conversation so she could get back to work. This had taken up far too much of her time, and there was still so much to do before the end of the night. What was it ‘Jasper’ was going on about now?
“Sorry, what was that?” She hated to ask.
“I asked why you chose me as your target tonight.”
Grace looked at the man she had jumped, practically raped even. His clothes moulded to his body, showing off his muscular chest and broad shoulders. Her eyes travelled down over his trim waist to his tight pants. They didn’t leave much to the imagination. She knew her face would be the colour of her favourite underwear, she always blushed so profusely. God, this conversation was not happening. She was going to have to tell him the truth and in front of his sister too. He just wouldn’t let it go, would he? If at all possible her face got even redder.
“Well, you see, the thing is, I haven’t had a relationship for a long time and I seem to have had too much to drink tonight. I couldn’t stop myself, you were just too good-looking and you rescued me from that awful crowd. Besides, it is just this once and if I wasn’t in a foreign country I would never have dared do what I, we, did, but I will never see you again, so I thought it would be safe. I actually can’t see what all the fuss is about. It was only a kiss.” She stopped abruptly. She tended to babble when she got nervous; it was a habit she found hard to break.
“A kiss that the biggest gossip in all of England just happened to see!” He ran his hands through his hair. His head must hurt from pulling his hair so much. “We’ll have to be married. There’s no other way to avoid a scandal.”
Grace finally really looked into the three pairs of eyes boring into her. “What kind of party is this?”
The girl was a sure candidate for Bedlam.
Or a