The Jacobite's Return (The Georgian Rebel Series) Read Online Free Page B

lady might that be?” Jack kept his voice determinedly light.
    “The one who brings that tormented look to your face, particularly when you think no-one is watching you. No, don’t scowl at me, Jack. I have known you too long, we have been through too much together, and you must accept that I have your best interests at heart. The role of star-crossed lover does not suit you.”
    Despite his annoyance at this probing of a wound he wished left untouched, Jack’s lips twitched. “You feel I am playing a role? Perhaps putting on airs to make myself appear interesting?”
    “Oh, don’t poker up at me, old chap. That is not what I meant at all. You were always a devilish popular fellow with the ladies.” Perry considered him with his head on one side. “Stap me if I know why. Mayhap ’tis the title. Earl of St. Anton, it has a proud ring to it. And now you have your good name restored, ’tis even more enticing.”
    Jack did laugh out loud at that. “Thank you. I will certainly never grow vain with you for my friend, Perry.”
    Perry grinned. “You know you are considered a handsome fellow without the need for me to throw compliments at you. There will be enough ladies doing that tonight, I imagine. And before you commence grimacing at the prospect, hear me out. You’ve no wish to talk of your mystery heartbreaker. So be it. But why not let London be your cure? There are opportunities aplenty here for a man with your looks, wealth and title. Intrigue and adventure await you. Take them. Grasp them. Enjoy them.”
    Jack signalled his desire to end the conversation, and Perry acceded to his wishes. From the look of satisfaction on his face, it was clear he thought he had done enough, no doubt believing a seed had been planted in Jack’s mind. His uncle wanted him to marry, his best friend wanted him to dally. Everyone seemed concerned with his love life. If only it were that simple!
    They did not speak again until the carriage rolled into the courtyard of Rotherham House, an imposing edifice several miles from the centre of town. An astonishing number of coaches rumbled ahead of theirs up the sweeping drive towards the flambeaux-lit façade. Jack regarded the scene morosely. Before Swarkestone, this was the sort of evening in which he would have found unbridled relish. Dancing, drinking, conversing with acquaintances, and indulging in mild flirtations or amorous assignations of the sort Perry had just prescribed. Such pursuits no longer held any charms for him. Who would have thought that the once sociable, celebrated Earl of St. Anton could reach such a pass as this? The only place he wanted to be was a certain manor house in Derbyshire…and only one companion would do for him. Fiend seize you, Rosie, is this what you have reduced me to? Am I forever condemned to compare all women to you and find them wanting?
    “Do at least try and look cheerful,” Perry muttered as they emerged from their carriage. “Although I must concede that the inferior wine served by Her Grace has oft-times caused me to wear exactly such a sour expression.”
    The vast, elegant ballroom was already crowded, and it appeared that all the wealth and beauty of the English aristocracy had turned out in force that night. Her Grace of Rotherham greeted the new arrivals with pleasure. The presence of two such personable young men would enhance the success of her evening’s entertainment. After murmuring a greeting and bowing gracefully over her proffered hand, Jack followed in Perry’s wake through the scented, powdered throng. Pinpoints of light from the giant chandeliers bounced back from the jewels, shimmering satins and rich tapestry of colour provided by the exquisite attire of the assembled company. As they made their way deeper into the fashionable crush, Perry paused countless times to greet his numerous acquaintances.
    Jack was surprised to also be greeted with delight by several young bucks and smiled upon with approval by a number of