The Unlikely Lady (Playful Brides #3)(44)

She exhaled, flaring her nostrils. There was no help for it. “Be that as it may—”

He snatched the book from her hands and flung it across the room. It landed with a thwack against the far wall. Upton stood in front of her with his feet braced apart and his hands on his hips. A muscle ticked in his jaw. “No you don’t. You may hide from the world behind your precious books but you’re not going to hide from me. Not tonight.”

Jane’s hand flew to her throat. She forced herself to push up her chin and meet his gaze. His eyes shot green sparks. The reckoning was upon her. “Very well, Upton. Say what you must.” She clasped her hands in her lap.

He remained facing her, hands still on his hips. His breathing was labored. He searched her face. “I know it was you in the drawing room the other night.”

“Yes. You’ve already said as much.” She tried to keep her dastardly knees from shaking.

“Are you going to deny it?”

Jane fought her blush. “As much as I’d like to, what would be the point?”

“Thank you for that.” His shoulders relaxed a bit. He expelled his breath and let his hands drop to his sides.

In an attempt to distract him from her shaking legs, she plucked at the folds in her green gown. “I’m not doing you a favor, Upton. I’m merely attempting to spare myself more shame.”

He stood towering above her. “Did you know it was me? That night?”

She craned her neck to look up at him. “Please sit. You’re making me nervous.” How on earth was she supposed to answer his question?

And ye shall know the truth, and the truth shall make you free.

The Bible verse rang in her head. Mocking her. Oh, she knew her Bible verses. Perhaps she didn’t agree with all of them. Or most of them. But she knew them.

She took a deep breath. It was time for the truth. “Yes, I knew it was you.”

Upton slid onto the settee next to her, leaned forward, and braced his elbows on his knees, staring ahead into the darkened room. “The entire time?”

“No. I discovered it about halfway through. That’s why I didn’t want to remove my mask.” She took another deep breath. She might as well ask him the same. “Did you know it was me?”

“Not until the next morning.” He hung his head. “I don’t know what to say,” he murmured.

“Exactly why I didn’t feel we needed to have this conversation,” she replied with a slight, humorless laugh.

“Jane, I—”

She held up a hand to stop him. He was either going to tell her he loved her, which she somehow couldn’t picture happening, and also knew she couldn’t hear, or he was going to tell her it had been a mistake, which she already knew. Neither needed to be said aloud.

“There’s nothing to say, Upton. It’s over. We needn’t mention it ever again.”

His eyes were wide as he turned to look at her. “Needn’t mention it again? Did it mean so little to you? Do you do that sort of thing often?”

Indignation flooded through her. She stopped plucking at her gown. Her hands turned into fists along the tops of her thighs. “You’re questioning me? I am not the one who should have to answer for my behavior. I’m not the one who brought his mistress to a wedding!”

Upton’s face contorted with amazement. “My what?”

Based on his reaction, Jane immediately had her doubts, but she’d already said the vile word and she wasn’t about to back down. “You heard me. Your mistress.”

He sat up straight and leaned closer to her, his face still registering disbelief. “Who, pray tell, do you believe is my mistress?”

She turned her face away and sniffed. “Don’t insult my intelligence, Upton.”

“I would never dream of it,” he said through clenched teeth.

“Then you know I mean Mrs. Langford,” she replied through equally clenched teeth.

“I can assure you, Mrs. Langford is unequivocally not my mistress. I do not have a mistress. It’s not my style, but if it was, I certainly wouldn’t dishonor the widow of my deceased friend by making her my mistress. And I would never dishonor Cassandra and Swifdon by inviting a light o’ love to their wedding. Have you gone mad?”

Jane snapped her mouth shut. He sounded so convincing. Could she have made a mistake? Oh, God. Of course she could have. “But Mrs. Langford said…”

“She said she was my mistress?” Surprise tinged his voice.

“Not precisely, but she implied … She said you were ‘quite close.’”

Upton pinched the bridge of his nose, closed his eyes, and shook his head. “Look, Jane, I admit Isabella seems to be interested in me, and she’s been quite rude to you, but she is not now nor has she ever been my mistress.”

“So, I’m the only woman you’ve kissed at this house party?” The words sounded ridiculous as soon as they left her mouth but she truly wanted to know the answer.

His laugh was a short, wry chuckle. “The one and only. Despite what you think of me and my reputation, I don’t make a habit of passionate interludes with ladies at my friends’ house parties. You were stunningly beautiful that night. To be entirely candid, I’ve dreamed about it since.”

The air left Jane’s body in a whoosh. Stunningly beautiful? Dreamed about it? Her hands trembled in her lap where she’d resumed the plucking of her skirts. Perfect. Now in addition to her legs, her hands were trembling. This had to be the precursor to apoplexy. His words reverberated throughout her body. Dreamed about it since. Oh, God. She’d dreamed about it too.