A Gentleman for Lady Juniper (Clairvoir Castle #6)

Chapter 13

CHAPTER 13

T he ballroom shone with light and was alive with the motion of hundreds of people, chandeliers and lamps blazing over the sea of gowns and glittering jewels of the ton . Music swirled in the air, punctuated by the sound of laughter and murmured conversations. Jack stood near the edge of the dance floor, keeping a watchful eye on his sister Emily who sat on a chair a few feet away with her back straight, her gloved hands folded neatly in her lap. The very picture of a proper English lady.

Jack had watched her dance twice that evening—fewer times than usual, given how long they had been present. The novelty of their arrival in Society, it seemed, had begun to wear thin. The week before when they attended a ball, many of Emily’s dances had been claimed before the first note of the orchestra played. But tonight, fewer gentlemen had approached to even pay their respects and her card remained empty.

“It is a shame Lord Hartwell and Mr. Eastwood have left Town,” Emily remarked lightly, her eyes drifting across the crowd. The lack of partners had done nothing to her outward calm, at least. “I enjoyed dancing with them both. They were excellent conversationalists and very polite, the pair of them.”

Jack tucked his hands behind his back, trying to keep his expression neutral. “Yes, a pity,” he agreed, though his mind was elsewhere, sorting through the minor things he had noticed in their interactions with others over the past few days.

Now he was looking for it, he had noticed the change in their reception when he and his brothers went to their club, and some strange glances when they were out in public—a subtle shift in the way people regarded them. At first they had been a curiosity: the Sterlings, the family who had risen from nothing. But something had changed... Could it only be that the interest was fading, and that judgment now took its place?

Susan drifted near them, her eyebrows drawn together in concern as she waved a fan softly before her face. “No new partners yet, Emily?”

Emily shook her head. “No, but I do not mind.”

“What is keeping them away?” their sister-in-law asked quietly, looking to Jack for an answer.

He hated that he did not have a clear cause to give them. “I cannot guess. Nothing in our status has changed. Nothing about Emily has changed.”

“I suppose it is quieter this way,” Emily said, giving first him and then Susan a small smile. “Calmer. I do not mind too much.”

Jack returned her smile, though his attention was caught by a pair of women whispering behind their fans, their eyes flicking toward his sister before quickly turning away. His jaw tightened, but he kept his tone light. “Then I will not mind either. There is nothing wrong with a quiet evening, Emily. Besides, you will have more time to enjoy the refreshments.”

She laughed, the sound bright but a little tight to his ears. “That is true enough.”

He cast a quick glance at Susan, who nodded and held her gloved hand out to Emily. “Perhaps we ought to fetch some punch now. I declare myself quite parched.”

As the three of them made their way toward the refreshment table, Jack noticed yet more glances. People’s narrowed-eyed gazes followed after them, along with their whispers. It wasn’t blatant, but it was there—an undercurrent of something displeasing running through the room like a thread pulled tight.

He could tell by the stiffening of his sister-in-law’s shoulders that she had picked up on the attention, and she stepped closer to Emily. For her part, his sister was busily speaking about the music and did not appear to notice anything amiss.

As they passed a small group of well-dressed aristocrats, a snatch of conversation in French caught his ear.

“...une telle famille de parvenus... un pied-dans-l’plat à chaque occasion...”

Jack’s spine stiffened at the words, his French fluent enough to catch the meaning: a family of upstarts...blundering into every opportunity...

He had learned the language as a soldier, along with German. He’d spent all his free time speaking with officers to sharpen his understanding of the languages of the continent. It had served him well in both the military and in the Duke of Montfort’s household.

He glanced at Emily, but she was busy accepting a glass of lemonade from Susan at the refreshment table, blissfully unaware of the slight.

Jack, on the other hand, felt his blood heat.

Turning on his heel, he approached the group who were still chatting in French, likely assuming their words went unnoticed by an uneducated upstart such as him. He tucked his hands behind his back to avoid clenching his fists, frustration simmering beneath his skin, and cleared his throat loud enough to draw their attention. Their conversation faltered, eyes turning toward him in surprise .

He bowed elegantly toward the group, wearing a smile he had seen occasionally on the duke’s face when the man was dangerously displeased. The small group paused, eyes shifting toward him in surprise and irritation. They had to acknowledge him—or at least, one of them did.

“Mr. John Sterling, is it not?” one of the gentlemen asked eventually.

“It is.” He stood to his full height, which was above that of those who now looked at him with open contempt. When he started speaking again, their expressions changed slowly to shock. “ Je ne peux imaginer de qui vous parlez, bien que je ne trouve pas cela poli de critiquer les gens dans un lieu public ,” Jack said, his French smooth and confident. Then, with a pointedly pleasant smile, he continued in German. “ Aber lassen Sie uns diesen unangenehmen Moment vergessen. Ich hoffe, Sie genie?en Ihren Abend .”

What he said was not accusatory in the slightest. If anything, it was too polite. I cannot imagine who you are speaking of, though I do not think it polite to critique people in a public place , and then in German, But let us forget this uncomfortable moment. I hope you enjoy your evening.

A stunned silence fell over the formerly chortling men. One of the gentlemen flushed, his mouth opening as if to apologize, but no words came out. Another looked down, clearly embarrassed, while a third gave a nervous laugh as though that would somehow soothe away the discomfort.

Jack raised an eyebrow, letting the moment hang in the air a second longer than necessary. “Now, if you will excuse me, gentlemen.”

He turned back toward the refreshment table and his sister, who had missed the entire exchange. Susan nibbled at a small sandwich and appeared to fight back a smile.

Jack offered both of them his arms, maintaining his composure as best he could. As they moved along the wall of the room, he glanced back, noting with satisfaction the still-flustered expressions on the faces of the gossipers.

“What was that all about, Jack?” Susan asked softly.

“They were conversing in French about something they did not understand, so I offered enlightenment,” he said, as calm as he could manage. “It was nothing serious.” He hoped he spoke the truth.

“Nothing serious?” she repeated with a lift of her eyebrows. “My, I wonder what you would consider serious. Perhaps a hurricane?” Her eyes brightened with amusement, and he could not help but return her smile, as though she knew full well what he had stepped in to correct.

They rejoined the other members of their family present that evening, his two brothers and his other sister-in-law, in a room where people played cards. Jack left both ladies there and went to the window to take up a watchful post over all of them. The peripheries of rooms still impressed him as the most comfortable from which to observe the others, even if he was trying to give them more room to learn for themselves.

As he stood beside the wall, watching over his family as Emily sipped her lemonade and the others played cards, Jack could not help but wonder what had changed. Why were they now the subject of whispered conversations and critical stares?

Was this the gossip Juniper had attempted to warn him of, spreading like wildfire through the ranks of the ton ? He frowned, and what remained of his good mood slipped completely away. What could people possibly say about his family that would shift the general perspective on them so completely? There were no scandals attached to them. They had done nothing in public to warrant even a humorous observation. Those who spoke had called them upstarts . But why? What did this mean for them?

Gossip could destroy reputations, if it was cruel enough or found to hold truth. If misinformation was spreading about them, who was spreading it? And how best could he counter it?

Jack’s jaw tightened. He needed to know his enemy in order to put a battle plan in place. He needed to know exactly what was being said.

Whatever it was, he would not allow his family’s happiness to be sullied by petty remarks and thinly veiled insults.

Not while he was standing.