She was giddy with anticipation. He was suggesting announcing their engagement to the ton? “Without talking to my Guardian?” she asked. “You would not dare!”
“I would dare a great many things, all under the marquess’s suspicious glare.”
Another giggle erupted from Affry’s lips. Life had been so hard without her father, especially under the condemnation of society. And now to be able to talk and laugh freely? And love? Yes, nothing felt better than to love. Just like her namesake, Aphrodite, she would not be confined.
Chapter Two
Virbius didn’t like the look of this rogue. It didn’t help that the cursed boy couldn’t keep his eyes and hands off his ward. The marquess didn’t miss the unruly interest from Piri’s friends either. Calculating, lingering looks that bordered on leering; they were up to no good. He sighed, knowing he should go to Affry’s rescue—though he doubted she’d appreciate the effort.
His assignment to watch over her was testing his resolve. The watchful mommas might keep potential suitors from his ward, but as soon as the boys could sneak away, they stumbled all over themselves for Affry’s attention. It was all Virbius could do to keep the worst of them from smuggling the innocent girl behind a dark alcove to declare their love. Affry had no idea the power she held over the men in the room or the danger it put her in.
He couldn’t allow anyone to get close to her, not with the incidents that seemed to follow her wherever her dainty feet traveled. Why had they sent him anyway? He should be the last person the war office should trust to watch over her. The moment Virbius met the girl at the door of her London home, she looked as much as she did now—pouty rosebud lips that tended towards sulky, her hair a cascade of golden curls. She was as deadly in her beauty as her mother, likely as selfish and vain, too. And yet, her eyes—the deep blue was as inviting as a glittering lake on a hot, summer day. When they lifted to his, he saw the trust in them. It told him that she shared far more in common with her paternal parent. Armed with her father’s heart of gold, it made her more dangerous to Virbius’s state of mind than her mother ever was.
“You are deep in thought, my lord.” The long lashes of the sweet lady beside him dipped over steady grey eyes, her smile gentle. He removed his attention from Affry’s dancing to bring it to a more worthy subject. Lady Chloris wore a gown of the palest blue crepe that glistened under the candles of the grand chandelier. Her white blonde hair was pulled up in a cascade of curls and pearls. She was an English rose in every sense of the word. Serene. Gentle. He sighed. So unlike Affry. The lady placed a calming hand on his forearm. “My lord, you must tell me what ails you.”
Chloris wouldn’t believe the half of it. Like the others in the haut ton, she hadn’t the slightest idea of what was really happening. He cleared his throat. “I’m afraid my ward’s behavior will set off the gossips again.”
“Oh, she is but a child, my lord. You must be patient with her.”
“A child? She is well on her way to nineteen!”
Chloris’ cheeks flushed prettily, and he hastened to school his voice into gentler tones. “The chit knows very well what she is doing. I suspect she actually enjoys making a cake of herself.”
“But it is Christmas, my lord.” Chloris bestowed another enchanting smile on him. “Their high spirits are only brought on by the cheer of the season.”
Yet another thing Virbius cared nothing for.
“My good man.” Sir Banbury’s firm hand slapped him heartily on the back. Virbius grimaced and took a subtle step back as the baronet leered into his face, the man’s rotten breath heavy with exertion. “Lord Virbius, I say. Will you be honoring Lady Euthymia’s gaming rooms with a game of faro? We could talk a bit of business on the side.”
Virbius shook his head. “Not tonight, I’m afraid. I’m doing the pretty with my ward and her aunt.”
“I’ve never taken you for a companion to young girls.”
“Neither I, good sir.” The marquess broke into what he hoped was an easy smile. “Just last week I found myself dancing attendance at one of the most elite dress shops in the countryside. The trinkets these ladies must have. It almost split my head in two.”
“Oh, how you go on!” A fan erupting over his arm revealed Aunt Euthymia had toddled to his side again. She cradled her fat, orange cat against her bosom. At the sight of Virbius, the cat recoiled with a hiss and sprang from Euthymia’s grasp. All animals shared such a reaction to him. Euthymia gave Virbius a look of consternation before turning to her guests. “Virbius was most charming.” Her loud voice made his head swim. “Our dear marquess is a reformed man, you know. He took us shopping three hours for pink trimming and not a word of complaint.”
He had wished them all to Hades. He cleared his throat in the sudden silence. “It is vital the pink be just the perfect shade.”
“Yes, indeed, the marquess insisted on it,” Euthymia said with a wink. Her peacock feathers bobbed enthusiastically with her head. “If not for him, we could have escaped the dress shop in less than an hour.”
“I do say.” The baronet eyed him with renewed interest. “This boy’s ward must have him wrapped around her pretty fingers to inspire such acts of heroism. Take care, Lady Chloris. Affry will steal the marquess from under your nose, my girl.”
Virbius could barely contain his revulsion. The man thought he harbored a flirtation with his own ward? Though Affry made it deuced difficult for him to concentrate, he could control himself better than that. Virbius gave him a slow smile meant to put the baronet in his place. “Nonsense, I’m not the one dancing with her.”
Her entourage of frustrated suitors would have something to say about that.
Chapter Three
The final strains of the music ended, and Affry found herself back on Piri’s arm after the set. He led her over the length of the ballroom as if to return her to her guardian. Good heavens, Virbius looked as dark as a raincloud. Was he actually scowling at her? Just as the opening notes of the quadrille started, Piri halted on the middle of the ballroom floor, seeming to come to a decision. “Have you reserved this next dance?”
What a scandal that would make. She laughed at this. “A second dance, Piri? Just after the first? Have your wits gone?”
“I promised every dance would be yours.”
One hardly followed through with such promises in polite society. Her laugh turned forced. “Surely you jest. You couldn’t possibly mean such a thing.”
His forehead met hers. “I do.”
Affry noticed a few shocked glances at this—mostly from jealous females. How quick society was to judge her. She glanced over at Virbius, who shook his head once, but was too far away to do much of anything. Piri nudged her and she met his inviting eyes. One dance showed courtesy. Two dances showed marked interest. Mr. James Samuel Pirithius was claiming her as his. A smile overcame her face. She nodded. “Very well, Piri.”
His laugh threw off her sense of propriety. He slid his hand down the long gloves molded to her arm and found her hand to lead her back to the dance floor.
Affry hoped her guardian didn’t try to stop her, but soon Virbius was far from her mind as both she and Piri executed the complicated steps of the quadrille. Despite the vigorous training from her dancing masters, she had not danced with many eligible bachelors—unless it was with the duty-bound Virbius. Never in her wildest imaginations did she think she’d catch the eye of the most eligible bachelor of the ton. Piri passed her in the line of dancers, watching her with eyes that betrayed his feelings.
As the dance closed, Piri caught her in his arms and she swallowed a breath as he drank her in with his gaze. When he let her go, he still kept a possessive grip over her hand. His signet ring dug into her finger, drawing her attention to the grey stone in the center of it.
“Thirsty?” His voice made her look up.
She smiled at him. “Parched. My throat’s afire.”
He escorted her past the openly staring peers to meet his circle of friends. He fo
und them loitering near the refreshment tables. None of the fashionable young bucks he greeted would meet her eyes. They must care more for the opinion of society than Piri did. She pressed her curling lips downward to appear more demure—she desperately wanted to be accepted by those he held most dear.
“Piri,” the loudest of his acquaintance congratulated him with a hearty pat on the back. When the man turned to her, he allowed his attention to linger too long on her slim figure. Piri didn’t appear to notice. “You managed to start the ton talking, old boy. Society is perfectly scandalized with your choice of company.”
Affry frowned, but Piri laughed. A few of his friends shifted restlessly behind him.
“Do you admit defeat?”
Affry recognized the dulcet tones of Piri’s old friend behind them. Piri’s smile melted away. She circled, seeing Thomas Lucas, the Earl of Lytus. He lounged against the wall near the refreshment table, his brown hair in stylish disarray. The inestimable earl watched Affry with almond shaped eyes that regarded her in such a way that made her feel beneath him. Lord Lytus was possibly the coldest snob of Piri’s acquaintance. The two had been inseparable before Affry entered Piri’s life. By the way the earl studied her, Affry wondered if she had perhaps driven a wedge between them. After far too long of a perusal, the man dismissed her with a look, turning to his careless friend.
Piri looked wary then asked, “Do you care to up the stakes of our little wager, my friend?”
“I already have,” the earl answered, his voice was melodic like a tune she couldn’t erase from her head. The earl didn’t bother to speak most times, but when he did—as much as she despised him—she found the low tone arresting. “Three to one says you don’t stand a chance in this wager, Piri.”
Affry glanced nervously between them, not understanding the undercurrents. Men were not supposed to discuss wagers in front of gently bred females. Did they not see her as one? She cleared her throat. “What does your friend mean, Mr. Pirithous?”
Piri waved a careless hand. “We have a bet on a filly—a particularly feisty one. We’re seeing what it takes to break it.”
“A race?”
He smiled reassuringly. “It’s of no consequence. Just the silly wagers of men—nothing to fret over.”
Affry felt uneasy. Piri’s friends were laughing under their breath, still refusing to meet her eyes—though they appraised her like she was Piri’s prize. She didn’t like them. Not at all. The earl was the worst of them. She pulled away from them. “Thank you, Piri, for your escort. My aunt will be missing me.”
Before Piri could reply, the earl’s heavily-lidded eyes bore into hers. “She’s left for a game of faro.”
“Well, my guardian…”
“Caught up in politics with a certain official of state. Wouldn’t go near him, might I add. He’s more livid than Medusa.”
The very thought made her cringe. “Oh.” Affry was ridiculously free of supervision.
Piri seemed to sense her uncertainty, and took up her hand again. He nodded a dismissal to his friends. She was aware of the earl’s stare against her back as they walked away. “Never mind those blackguards,” Piri said. “Let me offer you my escort to your formidable guardian. I certainly don’t want to end in his black books—not when I have so much to lose.” He gave her another meaningful glance, coaxing a smile from her. “That’s better. I want you to enjoy this night…Aphrodite. I officially dedicate this ball to you, though also perhaps to the unparalleled grace and beauty of the Dowager Duchess.”
That startled her. “Who?”
He grinned carelessly, nodding the direction of a grimacing old lady wrapped in black silk and dripping with jewels at the end of the ballroom. “That rotting corpse in the corner, who keeps glowering at you. You are far too pretty for her liking.”
That elicited a laugh from her. She listened to the orchestra strike up a waltz. It filled her with longing—but the dance was too provocative. It wasn’t meant for girls just out of the schoolroom. Piri’s hand tightened over hers. “Would you do me the honor?” he asked.
A waltz? She remembered all the waltzes she’d been forced to sit out, ball after ball where fierce mommas had deemed her unworthy to dance with their sons. It was more than a romantic soul like hers could endure, and yet… “I have not been given permission for the waltz, Piri.”
A mischievous smile touched his lips. “Then I give you permission, my little Aphrodite.”
“But society? This is our third dance, and…”
“Hang society. What do we care for them? Your father never did.”
Affry felt ill at ease. She avoided the looks of those around her, but found it impossible to ignore one lady in particular. This lady looked to be not that many years older than her—a dainty doll with porcelain skin, a pointy chin, and a sulky twist to her lips. The dark-haired beauty wore an elegant masterpiece of blue silk and crepe, a matching blue ribbon woven through her curls like a Greek goddess. A delicate bracelet made of seashell and silver wrapped up her upper arm. The intensity of her glare almost forced Affry back to her senses. “Who is that lady?”
Piri glanced around then grimaced when he spied the glowering incomparable. “’Tis only Ariadne. Put her from your mind.”
Affry bit her lip.
Piri hurried out an explanation. “Our parents thought to marry us off to each other. Ariadne’s not particularly pleased to see me giving you so much marked attention, but, Affry—look at me.” He laid a gentle finger on her chin and turned her gaze to his. “You’ve trapped my heart. I lay my soul at your feet. What say you to running away from this place? Why should we give a fig for what people think of us? What do you say to freedom, Affry? We kick up our heels and show society our backs?”
Affry’s heart soared. “Are you proposing to me, Piri?”
“One more dance, Affry, and I’ll make the announcement I’ve wanted to give these self-righteous toad-eaters all night.”
“You really don’t mean to talk to my guardian?” she asked breathlessly.
“What do we care of him?”
Virbius would have to give his consent—he only wanted to be rid of her. No one else would have her after three dances; she wanted no one else. Her Christmas wish had come true. “Yes!” She let out a relieved laugh. “Yes, Piri! But I have not yet met your parents. Will they accept me as you have?”
He grinned and that seemed to answer it. Piri swept her into his arms in the cascade of music. The waltz was all she imagined it to be. Piri held her a little closer than was proper…but soon they’d be wed. He’d be free to hold her all he wanted. She was so happy she could burst with it. She arched back to study his face. “As long as I’m with you, I can bear anything.”
He stilled a moment, a shadow passing over his eyes as he considered her. And then she felt drunk off his adoration…before he also shielded that look with his heavy lids.
Chapter Four
Devil take it. That fool was going to ask for her. At least that had better be his intentions or Virbius would plant him a facer—he’d plant him a facer anyway. “My deepest pardons, Chloris.” He nodded to the dazzling beauty by his side to excuse himself.
Euthymia was already tugging on his arm. “What are you about, dear boy? You must be gentle with the girl. She’s been so lonely since her dear father passed.” The marquess gritted his teeth. This was all Adonis’s fault. If it weren’t for his foolhardy ways, his daughter wouldn’t be the prey of rakes and fortune hunters.
“I should’ve foreseen that someone her age would be more the thing than a simple old woman.” Euthymia wrung at his arm—almost absently, her feet planted firmly on the polished floor. “She’s in need of a companion. Perhaps I should…”
Virbius cut her off. “If I know what maggot has got in your head then I absolutely forbid it.” With difficulty, he managed to extricate her from his arm. “She’s in want of a firm hand, not her…her cousin.”
He dimly heard Euthymia hiss an objection, but his focu
s was on the young upstart who danced his ward across the ballroom. In just a moment, they would both be within reach. He assessed his options. Balls, pretty manners, and polite society were still unfamiliar to him, though he knew avoiding a scene seemed to be of the utmost importance here.
The closer the two came, the louder the shocked voices grew around him. He set his shoulders against the assault, ready to throttle the nearest gossip. Why was it necessary to go about in society at all, as if by doing so they could ignore the dangers about them?
The cad whispered something to Affry. The dimple in her cheek deepened in response. Her eyes were radiant with love. Virbius cursed under his breath. He should have kept better watch over her. How long had this been going on under his nose? Her suitor leaned closer to her, his golden hair touching Affry’s.
They soon were within his reach. Virbius laid a heavy hand on the back of Piri’s shoulder. The boy stumbled back—whipping his head around, the lift of his chin arrogant until he realized who had him. His eyes rounded before he had the good sense to hide his fear.
Affry tried to object and Virbius blocked her view with a shoulder. He would deal with her later. He executed a sardonic bow to the pale youth. “I see you’ve lost no time in attempting to ruin my ward. Piri, is it?”
Piri flushed angrily. His fists clenched. “It is Mr. James Samuel Pirith—”
“Allow me to cut in.” Virbius repossessed Affry’s elbow. Her magnificent eyes flashed. For a moment, he thought she’d refuse, but society was watching. The ever-feared scandal was pending. Piri had no choice but to step back and relinquish Affry. It was all laughable really. Such a petty society with petty little rules.
Virbius’s hand tightened over his ward and he led her to the middle of the ballroom where everyone could see them to better advantage. “I see you now dance the waltz.” Affry’s lashes lowered over her eyes—he didn’t miss the rebellion in them. He placed his hand on her waist and mechanically led her through the steps. “The dance is forbidden you.” She didn’t answer, her face white—she was making him feel a monster and he brushed the discomforting thought away. Her hands tightened over his shoulders as he executed a perfect turn. He smiled sardonically. “Too many spins,” he said. “It might upset your delicate disposition.”
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