Jarvis stood unmoving by his cousin, while Greyson watched his wife helplessly stumble as she tried to catch one person or the other. Helen wasn’t good at the game at all. She lunged at a couple of people and missed them by a lot. She stumbled but righted herself, a smile lingering on her face. Greyson lurched a couple of times, but as soon as she straightened, he stilled, watching her intently.
Helen was a frail and delicate young lady, but the overprotectiveness of her husband was too grating. But then, Helen wasn’t Jarvis’s wife. Perhaps he’d act the same way if she were. His gaze slid toward a smiling Olivia. Yes, if Olivia was his, he would definitely try to protect her from the entire world.
Except that as protective as Greyson was of his wife’s physical state, he didn’t seem to guard her emotions, unless she didn’t mind his liaisons, which Jarvis doubted.
“Here, here!” People kept yelling from around her.
Helen lurched forward, stumbled, and fell face-first on the floor. The entire room gasped.
“Damn it!” Greyson reached her in two strides and picked her off the floor.
He yanked the shawl out of her eyes, and she blinked, trying to readjust to the light.
“Are you hurt?”
“No, I am well.” The smile lingering on her face twisted into an embarrassed grimace. “You didn’t have to yank the shawl from my eyes, I can still play.”
“To hell you can.” Greyson took her by the arm and led her away.
“But—” she tried to protest and twist away, but Greyson just firmed his grip on her.
The entire room seemed frozen in a strange tableau as Greyson yanked his wife away. Jarvis reached them in a few quick strides and placed himself in front of his cousin. “Greyson, cease your boorish behavior.”
“You do not want to get in the middle of this, cousin.”
“You are going to let go of her,” Jarvis said firmly.
Greyson became red in the face, the vein on his forehead ready to pop.
Helen placed a gentle hand on Jarvis’s arm. “It’s all right. I am quite parched anyway. We are going to leave.”
“Helen—”
“It’s all right, Jarvis.” Helen smiled, and Jarvis threw an irritated gaze toward his cousin.
Greyson gentled his hold on his wife’s arm but didn’t let go. Instead, he raised a brow, waiting for Jarvis to step aside.
There was a long pause as Jarvis stared into his cousin’s eyes. Then he looked away and rejoined the group, now silently standing in the middle of the drawing room, pretending not to have witnessed the confrontation.
“Well, since Mrs. St. John has left, we need another volunteer,” Lady Carlyle said in a chipper tone.
“Very well, I’ll do it,” Jarvis said.
He needed to do something so he wouldn’t go punch his cousin in the face.
Lady Carlyle covered Jarvis’s eyes, and on the count of three, everyone moved away from Jarvis, calling for him to catch them.
“Here, here,” sounded from every corner of the room.
Jarvis took a deep breath. He wasn’t exactly a stranger to darkness. Many a night, he had to navigate throughout the city relying on his other senses: sound, smell, touch.
“Here!” Olivia’s voice sounded from behind him, and he smiled. He’d recognize her voice from thousands.
He turned slowly, moving with her footsteps. She giggled, obviously amused that he followed her around with his unseeing gaze.
“Here, here!” Jarvis got distracted and turned away. He made a couple of steps and a feigned attempt at grabbing someone.
A familiar giggle sounded to the left. Jarvis made a sharp turn and caught Olivia by her arm.