“May I join you?” His voice was smooth and well modulated with a teasing note in its depths, she started and looked up into eyes of hazel that looked through her with a directness she found disturbing yet strangely compelling.
“Please.” She couldn’t refuse now she had been caught staring at him so efficiently and she indicated the empty seat opposite. Her brother would not approve, but she was only going to be talking to him, it wouldn’t do to be impolite, she ignored the little voice that murmured that she was curious and attracted to his looks. With smooth movements he sat before her and his eyes travelled over her features carefully. Melissa felt herself flush as the intense gaze returned to her eyes and he smiled. Face to face, he was even more compelling and she felt strangely naked beneath his gaze as though he could see everything that she was trying to hide.
“I’m Justin Lestrade, I’m sure you’ve been told about me.” In his warm voice she could hear suppressed laughter and she smiled, answering his amusement with some of her own. Even so she wondered at his hidden laughter for she felt that it was not directed toward the conversation but at something she couldn’t quite understand.
“My brother did mention you,”
“Of course he would have done,” The amusement thrummed through his voice and she was sure that he was quite aware of her brother’s warnings. “And you would be Melissa De Vire? Yes I’ve heard quite a bit about you. You’re the toast of the room.” The laughter spilled from his voice and spread across his face, it made his features look less jaded, more human. There was something magnetic about his voice; it held a confidence beyond the norm for a man his age and a mildly derisive humour that she couldn’t fathom.
“Only because I’m a fresh face,” Melissa replied, a soft smile touching her lips. “I got the impression that I was a shiny new toy.” She took a sip of the sweet wine and relaxed a little more.
“Well that silk does suit you well,” Justin responded, the compliment falling easily from his lips. “Green is your colour,” He beckoned a waiter carrying a laden tray forward and removed a small glass of canary. Dismissing the servant with a wave, he turned his attention back to Melissa. “I daresay shiny new toy is the best description for you at this point. It’s your first night in society; people are supposed to be curious and intrigued.”
“Intrigued?” Melissa asked, her eyes shifting from his handsome face with required modesty.
“You are an unknown. And the unknown is always to be explored.” His eyes sparked as he regarded her and he smiled. Melissa felt her breath catch as he turned that devastating smile full on her. There were layers to his conversation, meanings that she knew were not for a lady or at the least were meant for someone more versed in the arts of seduction. Ordinarily such a conversation would leave her tongue tied and stammering, yet he put her at such ease that she felt confident in replying.
“Perhaps the unknown is best left a mystery.” She answered finally, her fingers sliding over the smooth glass in her hands as she stared at him.
“Perhaps,” He conceded, “but exploring a mystery is a wonderful venture.” He lifted the glass to his lips and delicately took a sip. Melissa followed the motion, drawn to his mouth and its sensual twist with an interest that could not be considered academic.
“What if the unknown wishes to remain unexplored?” It was a bold question and one she should not even be thinking of saying, yet his manner seemed to draw it from her. His rakish smile encouraged indiscretion and for once in her ordered existence she revelled in the opportunity to be free with her thoughts.
“Does the unknown have a choice? What if the explorer decides to find out all he can?” His voice was honey soft and seductive.
She met his eyes boldly. “Then perhaps the unknown will poison him unexpectedly.” Shock flickered through his gaze like summer lightning at her daring and for a second, their conversation stuttered to a halt. Melissa did not drop her gaze as a modest lady should and they both stared at each other. Melissa’s frank gaze meeting his startled one as the room gossiped and danced around them.
Justin laughed; a low chuckle that broke the unnatural silence and relaxed the tension surrounding them. “This explorer always treads carefully,” He conceded finally as the chuckles subsided. “And chooses the safe path,” He sipped the canary and sat back, regarding the girl before him with more interest than before. “What has your brother imparted about me?” His eyes laughed as he looked down at her. “All bad I daresay,”
“Yes,” Melissa blurted out without thinking, “he says you’re a seducer of innocents, a gamester and a cad.”
“Then you’re quite safe,” He replied smoothly, taking another sip of canary. “For I doubt an innocent would talk so frankly about my foibles in public.”
Melissa felt her face flare scarlet and she drew her hand to her lips, mortified at her faux pas. “I.. I’m sorry,”
Justin smiled, warmth touching the corners of his eyes as he reassured her. “Don’t worry, I won’t report you to the room,” He moved closer and whispered. “Your indiscretion is safe with me.”
“Oh if only I could believe that,” Melissa replied and once again, she wondered why she was speaking so freely.
“Your brother has really taken me to task,” He chuckled, “Should I be wary of being invited to a duel?”
“He hasn’t said so much, but your reputation.” Melissa babbled out, wondering if she would ever talk her way out of this mess.
“Ahh yes, my reputation,” Justin glanced over his shoulder and whispered conspiratorially. “I have to admit that my reputation is exaggerated. I am much maligned.”
“I’m sure,” Melissa noted with no small amount of sarcasm, “but as my grandmother noted, where’s there’s smoke there’s fire.”
“Not strictly true,” Justin said, adjusting the enamel brooch at his neck as he spoke. “Damp logs don’t burn, they smoke.”
“Semantics,” Melissa fired back, enjoying the repartee that was building between them.
“Perhaps,” Justin removed his fingers from the brooch and Melissa found her eyes following the movement of his hand as it drew a handkerchief from the cuff of his jacket. “How are you finding court so far?”
“Overwhelming,” She breathed, troubled by the shift in conversation. “It’s not what I expected.”
“Are you not finding it exhilarating?” He smiled again and she was once again struck by the perfection of his teeth. It was not something she was used to, most people had severe decay or had lost their teeth to rot and were sporting replacements. Even those who had most of their own teeth could not claim such well kept specimens.
“I suppose it is.” She answered honestly, disconcerted by his glimmering smile and perfect teeth. “Or it was at the start of the evening,” A couple swept past her and she followed their movements, tearing herself from his visage. Behind him and to the left she could see her brother; he was wearing his court face, a mask of false pleasantry and laughter. The sight made her shudder, Marcus at court was different to that at home, his voice was louder and sentiments cruder.
“And now?” Justin’s voice prompted, dragging her from her reverie. She glanced back at him, at the curiosity that she now saw in his eyes.
“Now?” Her voice was small, a thousand leagues from the poised responses of a few moments ago. “Now I feel as though I’m in a charade, that no one here is what they seem,” Katherine Devereux drifted across her vision, her arms locked about the form of Walter Pilkington, a fixed rictus of a smile clued on her face. Behind them stood Emily Saint-Clair, the young blonde widow of Lord Edward Saint-Clair. With puzzlement, Melissa noted that Emily’s gaze was fixed on them.
“You’re quite right there,” She blinked at the softly spoken words and returned her attention to Justin. “None of us here are real.” He waved an elegant hand at her. “Take yourself as an example, you are not what you seem, you primp and smile and make polite conversation, but it is all an act.” He moved closer, his words soft, compell
ing as he leant in. “You can never show your real face and I wonder,”
“What?” Scarcely breathing, she stared up at him. “What is it you wonder?”
Carefully he reached forward and captured her hand. “I wonder,” His voice was soft, compelling and she raised her eyes back to his. “Just what lies behind your smile?”
“Do you?” Disconcerted by the strangely direct gaze, she pulled back slightly. “Do you really wish to know about my thoughts?”
“I do,” He drew her hand to his mouth and gently kissed the tips of her fingers. “I wonder what lies behind that polite, perfect façade you present.”
Melissa drew her hand away in flustered confusion. Even with the overcooked declarations of love she had been receiving all night, she was still unsure of how to handle such seduction. His desire to know her seemed sincere, yet she knew of his reputation. Her fingers tingled where his lips had pressed and she spoke rapidly, nervously.
“I feel like a prime specimen of beef at a meat market.” Unbidden and dangerous, words spilled from her lips. “One that’s about to be sold for slaughter." She shook her head and stopped speaking, aware that she was crossing the lines for polite behaviour. One did not discuss innermost feelings at such soirees. He glanced at her swiftly as though daring her to continue with her words.
“In a way you are.” He replied finally, sipping the drink slowly as he sized her up. “So you dislike the court then?”
“Oh not really… it’s just so big.” She answered softly, trying to bring words to her sense of bewilderment. She shook her head and pushed away the introspection, such behaviour was not considered seemly in a lady. “So what brings you to London?” Once again she retreated to the norm, her words mild and polite; the expected behaviour for a lady in society. Justin lowered the glass from his lips and regarded her carefully, his dark eyes flashing in brief disappointment before a mocking gleam slid over their surface.
“The court, the King and beauty such as yours.” He answered carelessly as he swirled the canary in his glass. Melissa felt her stomach clench as his manner changed. Gone
was the gentle questioner of a few moments ago and in his place was an insincere cad. Anger at his inattention and her own failure to see his manipulation made her blood boil.
“My, how insincere of you,” Without stopping to think, her words sizzled between them, angry at his flippancy and superior attitude. “And is this how you speak to all the women?”
“And is this how you address your suitors?” He retaliated, startled by her boldness. “Not the way to find yourself a fine match.” He quaffed the rest of his drink in a single gulp and smiled at her, a charming smile that further stoked her anger.
“Ah yes, the fine match,” her words hissed between clenched teeth. “the ultimate goal of my life because of the misfortune of being born a member of the fair sex.” She moved closer, her voice dropping lower as she leant forward. “So I should be grateful for the insincere flattery of a philanderer and happy with being passed about like a prize for the highest bidder?” A sweet, sickening smile flowed across her features. “Such an honour don’t you think?” She pulled back, her voice dripping with sarcasm and repressed anger. “If you will excuse me, I shall find other company and leave you and your insincerity to amuse someone else.” She stood and started to walk away. With the speed of a striking snake, Lestrade’s fingers found her wrist.
“Wait,” The smile had gone from his face now and in its place was a strange mixture of apology and interest. “I’m sorry for my inattention. It was rude and beyond the pale.” He got to his feet and stared at her full in the face. “Give me a chance to make up for it.”
She looked down at his fingers locked about her wrist and then up at him. When she spoke, her voice was coolly polite and devoid of the anger that had fuelled her earlier words. “Release my arm sir.” With a reluctant nod, he slowly retracted his hand and she pulled away. “My brother appears to have been right about you sir, it would be foolish of me to associate with you further. Good eve, Mister Lestrade.”
With a flounce of her head, she moved away from the table and into the gaming rooms. Behind her Justin stared after her as though confused and across from her, Emily Saint-Clair watched her leave with a bemused smile. She moved through the throng in a cloud of anger. Trying to forget Justin’s behaviour, she joined a game of Quadrille and in her flustered state, proceeded to lose in a spectacular fashion.
“I’m sorry,” A low, contrite voice at her elbow drew her away from the game and she stared up into green flecked hazel eyes. “I was terribly rude,” Justin murmured, oblivious to the stares and chuckles from the dames around the table. “Forgive me,”
Melissa stared up at him, her own anger reducing as she heard the utter truth in his voice.
“I forgive you for your attitude,” She said finally, collecting her tokens and playing the next hand. “But I know little but ill of you sir and forgive me but you have not shown yourself to be courteous.”
“All I can offer is my apology and this,” He tilted his fingers somehow and a small flower appeared between his fingers. Melissa looked at the bloom, smiling despite herself as she took it from his fingers and held it to her nose, sniffing the delicate scent with pleasure.
“It’s lovely,” She conceded finally, “but it’ll take more than a conjuring trick to adequately apologise for your behaviour.” His fumbling attempts at an apology were a start, but she was not ready to forget her impressions of him.
“I was unforgivably rude,” He said, crouching down to her level. “And I apologise for any hurt I may have caused you.” His voice was soft and entreating and she felt herself smile despite her anger. “I have no excuse for my behaviour and you have no reason to offer forgiveness, but I do ask it of you.”
“My forgiveness will not be immediate, for you were extremely offensive,” Steeling herself against his charms, she finally forced herself to speak. “Particularly as this was our first conversation.”
“Then may I make it up to you?” He implored, “Perhaps a dance and maybe we can start again?” He held out his hand and against all her better judgement she felt a strong desire to take it.
“I am committed to this hand,” She nodded at the table and smiled apologetically. “And my father would still kill me if I danced with you,”
“Perhaps,” He answered, “but I think you dance to your own tune. I would like your company lady.” With a soft smile, he left her side and moved back into the room, leaving Melissa to stare after him in some shock. In a strangely preoccupied mood, she played the rest of the hand. She didn’t know why she thought of him, he had just insulted her and he had a reputation that could not be denied and yet, she looked dreamily at the counters on the table, he haunted her. He had not called her ‘his angel’ or compared her beauty to jewels or the morning sun, like so many others had this evening. His eyes were unfathomable and mysterious; she could see depths in them that he seemed to take pains to hide behind wit and sarcasm. Despite his seeming inattention, she knew he had meant his apology. She drew the next card and played it without comment, her thoughts on the strange, beguiling nature of Justin Lestrade.
“You should go after him dear,” One of the women at the table said as she picked up her winnings and stood. “So he may be a poor choice for a husband, but for a night’s dancing, you could do worse,”
“I don’t know who you mean,” Melissa blurted out, shocked that her daydreams were so apparent.
“Of course you do.. just as long as you believe nothing he tells you and keep your head. I see no problem with just a dance. As long as you know that he is overly charming rogue.”
Melissa nodded, watching as her small group returned the cards to the deck and prepared to deal again.
“Are you in on this hand?” She shook her head, watching them smile as they returned to their cards. Moving away from the card table, Melissa smoothed out the creases in her skirts and walked back into the ballroom, her eyes alive as she
searched for the midnight blue coat. The small voice within her wondered why she was looking for someone with such an unsavoury reputation and one who had clearly dismissed her, but uncharacteristically she ignored it and continued to navigate the floor.
The Black Lotus (Night Flower) Page 3