“Of course I will, terribly. And I know you will, too. And, no, you’re not going to mention again that you’d rather be sailing off with him in the morning instead of staying behind with me.”

Jacqueline grinned. “I wasn’t going to. I know bloody well when I’m outnumbered in the argument, even though I’m more deserving of an opportunity to exact revenge than—”

“Jack,” Georgina cut in warningly.

“That just slipped out, really, it did.”

Georgina tsked. “At least the rest of the Season will be a distraction for you and me.”

Jack hoped that would be the case. She just wished she could be distracted sooner, say tonight, from her father’s departure. At least with her wearing a black wig and a domino no one was going to be able to tell that she was also experiencing emotions—of the vexing sort. Not when on the surface she looked vivacious. And truly, she couldn’t deny she was quite excited about the evening’s festivities. For once she wouldn’t know whom she was dancing with. She loved harmless little mysteries of that sort.

They were both already dressed for the ball tonight. Georgina had surprised Jacqueline with a new emerald necklace to match her pale green ball gown, which she fastened behind Jack’s neck.

“Now, come along. Your father is no doubt anxious to get this over with! He’s waiting downstairs with Brandon.”

“Brandon? When he said he wouldn’t come!”

“He told us you insisted, and we all know that meant you browbeat the dear boy mercilessly.”

Jack grinned. “Well, only a little. But a masquerade is the perfect opportunity for him to sneak in for a little fun without being announced as the Duke of Wrighton at the door. I had to try to convince him after he said he’s not planning on joining any Season. He doesn’t know what he’ll be missing, but after tonight he will, so maybe he’ll change his mind.”

“I wouldn’t count on that. Brandon takes his consequence quite seriously, more’s the pity, but then you know how I feel about titles. You need to recall that he’s the first duke in this family, and his parents have raised him as such. And you aren’t to interfere, Jack, not even a little. I wouldn’t be a bit surprised if his future wife is picked for him. She will need to have impeccable credentials.”

Jacqueline snorted. “Doom and gloom. You’re forgetting he’s also a Malory.”

Georgina raised a brow. “And Malorys tend to get what they want?”

“Exactly.”

“I CAN’T BELIEVE HE’S actually dancing.”

As Jacqueline danced with Brandon, she followed his gaze and laughed when her parents twirled past them on the dance floor. “I can. Mother entered with you and me, but my father was a few couples behind us in the line, so no one will guess it’s him even if they were able to guess it’s me. This black wig I’m wearing and the domino were supposed to keep my identity a secret.”

“They didn’t.”

“I know that,” she complained. “I am quite annoyed that Bernard Morton’s rushing over to me for the first dance alerted the others that he’d found me out. How the bloody hell he did, he wouldn’t admit. If he bribed my maid to find out the color of my gown tonight, I’m going to fire her as soon as I get home.”

“No, you won’t, when he could have likely bribed your seamstress or posted a man near your house to race the particulars to him. But it hardly matters, Cousin. Certainly not worth firing a loyal—”

“Disloyal.”

“—servant.”

“I suppose, though it has quite ruined the masquerade for me, when the delightful point of it was not to be recognized. It’s just any old ball, now.”

He chuckled. “I thought you loved balls?”

“I do, that’s why I’m only grumbling, not snarling.”

“Good point,” he said drily.

She grinned up at him. She was glad he’d come to the ball. With his mask, no one was going to guess that he was only seventeen or find out that the Duke of Wrighton was in attendance.

“As for my father,” she said, “while he most certainly does hate to dance, he loves pleasing my mother more, and she enjoys dancing. What about you? Well, you must. You’ve had six partners in a row before I could get you on the floor m’self, and I had to almost run to grab you before you were asking someone else!”

“I do indeed like it, but it’s not so much the dancing as the—touching.”

She chuckled. “A light touch on the waist excites you, does it?”

She knew she’d just made him blush under his half mask, which covered his cheeks but not his mouth. Sometimes she spoke without thinking first—well, most times she did that—but she hadn’t meant to embarrass her cousin, who had probably never had a chance to interact with a young woman his age other than relatives because his parents kept him so cloistered. A seventeen-year-old might well be quite touchy, too, about his relations with the opposite sex, and she should have known better than to tease about his sexual prowess or his lack thereof.

So she jumped back in with “Don’t answer! I put my foot in my mouth quite often, as you well know. Instead, tell me what you think of your first foray into the world of debutantes? Is it what you expected? Or perhaps it’s difficult to form an opinion when everyone is hiding their faces?”

“Personalities aren’t hidden, nor are their delightful—gowns.”

Jack burst out laughing. What an amusing way to refer to shapely feminine bodies! She knew he wasn’t embarrassed anymore because he’d said it in an exaggeratedly prudish tone.

“Has anyone piqued your interest yet?”

“Indeed. I’m already in love, with her, and her, oh, and her, too.”

He’d just pointed to three different debutantes, one dancing, the other two giggling as they gazed in his direction. Jack rolled her eyes. She might even have thought he was teasing if it were anyone other than Brandon.

So all she said was “You sound like our cousin Jaime. She fancies herself in love with a different man every few months. Please tell me you know the difference between infatuation and love, the abiding sort, the knock-you-on-your-arse sort.”

“D’you? Or are you so determined not to find it this year that it could smack you on the head and you’d ignore it?”