His hand tightened convulsively over it. “I’m afraid I’m confused.”
“Of course you are, Piri. Poor man, but now, you will know how it feels to have your love unrequited —I pray you find it with someone far beneath your station.” She giggled as another thought occurred to her. “Or maybe from a damsel who is much too high—then we shall see where your arrogance takes you.”
“Now see here.”
That’s when Affry did exactly as Euthymia instructed—she showed Piri her straight back as she moved smoothly away, laughing a little. She prayed once Piri put the cursed thing down that he would lock eyes with some crotchety old dowager spinster—a shrilly voiced thing. That would make for a most diverting evening.
“Affry!”
Oh drat. Piri was following her. She gathered her skirts to quicken away. The last thing she wanted was for him to fall in love with her.
“Milady!” Sarah waved the bracelet she promised to procure from Euthymia’s room at her. Affry gratefully took this as her excuse to break free from her former suitor. Her lady’s maid beamed brightly and latched the beautiful trinket to her dainty wrist. “You shine like a diamond of the first water, milady.”
Chapter Twelve
Piri’s wits had entirely fled him. He couldn’t tear his gaze from the little maid. The elusive Affry broke from the girl to march past the drawing room and yet, he couldn’t bring himself to go after the lady. He no longer cared that she wished him back to Hades where he came from, or that she was the key to opening the gates of the underworld or even that he played the cad to gain entry there. All his interest centered on this one girl. She meant the world to him.
A few curls the color of chestnuts escaped the maid’s mobcap. She wore a serviceable dress of black serge that did nothing to hide her perfect figure. Affry’s beauty was nothing compared to—What was her name? Piri cleared his throat and drew forward, his heart pounding a little too hard in his chest. “Who are you?” he asked the little maid.
The girl startled at his words. She turned brown, luminous eyes up to his. Once she saw who addressed her, she lowered them under her thick lashes and bobbed a quick curtsey. “I’m a servant in Milady Affry’s home, sir.” She attempted to brush past him. Without his own volition, his hand went to her arm to prevent her from leaving.
She looked confused and he struggled in vain to think of an excuse to keep her by his side. The emotions that filled him were more powerful than the ones he felt the night Theseus convinced him to carry away Persephone from the underworld. That had been a dreadful mistake—his sentence had been a few thousand years encased in a stone chair. “Surely you have a name, Miss?”
“Not for the likes of you,” she murmured.
Piri was surprised by the vehemence that laced her words. “You hold me in contempt? Why?”
The little maid shook his hand from her person, her lips firmed—they reminded him of rosebuds. “If you touch me again, sir, I’ll stick you with this pin.” She brandished a sewing needle. “I’ll not have kind words with the one who abused milady as ye did.”
Piri immediately felt a deep regret that he had caused pain to such a perfect specimen—he longed to take her in his arms, and trace each freckle on her high cheekbones with a kiss. She was a dainty little thing, light enough to hold on his knee. “I’ve always been partial to sweet, little brunettes. The fair Affry is nothing to such glory that stands before me.”
The maid drew herself up angrily. “That is outside of enough, sir. You are nothing but a ne’er-do-well and a scoundrel to boot. Off with ye.”
Piri landed on his knees in front of her, catching both her hands in his. “My unworthiness cuts me to the core. Let me prove my love to you, my adoration, my devotion!”
She gave a little shriek and skipped back two steps.
“What are you doing?” The earl had stepped into the foyer—he cut a black shadow in the archway and looked scathingly from Piri to the little maid.
Piri decided he didn’t like Lucas looking at his love in such a way. He got to his feet, shielding the girl with one broad shoulder. “Stay back, Lucas. I love her. You can’t stop us from marrying.”
That’s when the girl stuck him with her pin. Before Piri could react with more than a yelp, the maid dashed past him into the ballroom. The earl, in turn, trapped Piri in the foyer with one glossy boot against the doorframe and a fierce glare. “I daresay you deserved it, Piri. What are you about? No more chasing after lightskirts until we’re done here.”
The maid was no lightskirt—she was pure, everything perfect. Piri’s hands balled into fists, but before he could land the earl a facer for daring to insult the woman he loved, Lucas took one look at his angry expression and stepped back. “Hold on, old chap. What are you about?”
Piri knew. He knew he knew the source of his new infatuation. Still, it somehow tainted what he felt for his little pocket beauty. He was loath to admit that Affry was behind such incredible love. The moment Affry gave him the berry, it had burned into his hand. He held it for so long before he was forced to fling it onto the foyer floor—that had been moments after the delectable maid appeared before his eyes.
Casting Lucas a reproachful glare, Piri searched the floor for the berry and as soon as he retrieved it, dropped the now dusty thing into Lucas’s hands. “Affry told me it would make me fall in love.” He laughed, his eyes going back to the doors where the maid had disappeared.
Lucas shouted out in panic and the berry toppled from his fingers back to the floor, and still he backed away from it. “Are you mad? You bumbling fool! Why did you give it me then?” His voice lowered to a hiss. “We’re not dealing with some mere mortal—this is Aphrodite’s daughter. This love will kill you. Whatever you do, keep your distance from that maid. That is an order, Pirithous!”
Chapter Thirteen
Lucas could not countenance the misfortune that was Affry. First she had slipped from him after Piri’s ridiculous toast and now this? He wasn’t about to admit defeat so easily. The girl had disappeared into the back of the family estate. How hard was it to find the chit? He strode down the great hall and saw that Ariadne had collapsed onto a chaise lounge in the drawing room, exhaustion clouding her fine features. Before he could retreat, he felt his whole being rebel against him. He had to physically take a hold of the bannister to stop himself from lunging onto the sofa next to the fair Ariadne and declaring his love.
Too late, he felt the sticky residue leftover from the berry on his fingers. He should’ve destroyed it while he had the chance. And now staring at Ariadne, he felt out of breath. How could he ever think her the most unpleasant girl of his acquaintance? He loved her now, with all his heart—the raging warnings crashing through his mind had nothing to do with it. Taking a deep breath, he determined to find the berry and crush it, but instead his hand went to his heart and he found himself drawn to the sullen girl.
“Ariadne. My love.” He dropped to a knee before her—caring little that he scuffed his fine Hessian boots in the process. “Bless me with your smile and make me the happiest of men.”
Ariadne caught him in her unpleasant gaze—it wrung at his heart as never before. “Cut line, Lucas. I’m fagged to the bone. The girl went that way.” She pointed to the west wing of the house.
Lucas couldn’t bring himself to care. “My love, we’ve no time to waste.”
“I said I’m done. If you want to vex the girl to the vapors, do so. Do not involve me further. I do not care for country hours.”
He could get her to come to him—his voice had the power of the gods and could bring anyone to him—and yet, Lucas resisted the temptation with all the will he had left. He wouldn’t use it against his beloved—though Affry would be a different matter altogether. Even now, Ariadne watched him with a wrinkle on her perfect brow, her lips so kissable. “Ariadne,” he begged. “You must come with me.” His hand wrapped around her small wrist and he pulled her from the sofa.
“What are you doing, my lord?”<
br />
“I’m paying you court.”
“You will do no such thing!”
Lucas already knew what made Ariadne so furious with the world—Theseus was a fool. The earl felt a raw jealousy that her heart was still in essence trapped by another man, even in the depths of her bitterness. “He was a simpleton to leave you. If Dionysus were to ask for you, I would die first before I gave you up. I would die a million deaths just to see a smile light up your face. Just once. I’d do anything to see you happy. You know my loyalty; it is why I am sentenced to this life we lead. You can trust me, Ariadne.”
A shriek behind them revealed that Piri had found his little maid. Lucas Orpheus sighed, seeing Ariadne stare up at him. Her lips were only a few breaths from his and he traveled the rest of the distance to kiss her deeply, tasting her lips—everything that was Ariadne. Love was sweeter than he remembered. With difficulty, he pulled back and waited for the slap that never came.
Her eyes were closed. She opened them briefly—the slate grey on his. “Why have you stopped?” And she kissed him back.
Gasps behind them told Lucas they had been discovered. They were most certainly making a scene, and the gods help him, he didn’t care. He knew in the back of his mind that he still needed to find Affry—she was the one to put a stop to this. He firmly set Ariadne aside, catching his breath. “We have unfinished business,” he choked out. And then he was back to kissing her.
Chapter Fourteen
Virbius had found nothing of note in Adonis’s smuggled goods—besides a lion’s claw that thus far, cut any surface. He had pocketed it and left the rest behind, knowing he had left Affry far too long in the ballroom. He was almost there when a disturbance captured his attention.
Guests gathered around the hall as if viewing a band of unruly gypsies performing a dance. Knowing their misfortunes, Virbius decided that Affry would be at the heart of it. Virbius pushed the gawkers aside, seeing the earl break away from the dark-haired Ariadne—they had been locked in an embrace. Ariadne looked to have been thoroughly kissed. She was breathless with her hair tumbling from its pins.
Behind him, a shriek nearly broke his ears. Virbius turned to see Piri chasing after a maid—if he wasn’t wrong, the girl was Affry’s lady’s maid. “Mr. Pirithous,” he shouted to the insolent pup, “unhand that wench!”
Piri didn’t heed him—just followed the maid like one possessed. Virbius groaned. “Aphrodite.” Even now, he saw the earl’s attempts to stumble from the drawing room, only for his expression to sicken like he had forgotten something vital in his wake, and then circle back to the now smiling Ariadne. His arms found her again.
Affry had gotten her revenge—even if it harmed those dear to her in the process.
Grumbling under his breath, Virbius plucked out the Christmas greenery from a vase and stalked over to the earl, who had freed himself once again. Before the man could turn back to Ariadne yet again, Virbius upended the water over his head. Footsteps slapped over the fine rug behind him and suddenly the maid rushed past Virbius’s elbow, followed by a devoted Piri. Without a second thought, Virbius smashed the vase over her pursuer’s head. Piri crumpled into a heap at his feet.
As if summoned, an older lady with a ridiculously high turban ran into the room, giggling like a schoolgirl and chasing one of Piri’s unruly friends. She batted her fan against the back of her new love when she got too close, only spurring the boy to a quicker escape. Virbius kneaded his forehead. It was worse than he imagined. How many of the guests were infected by Affry’s less-than-refined accomplishments?
Virbius strode from the shocked gathering. He needed to find Affry and get her to undo this hateful curse. He recalled her favorite hiding places and finally decided on the library. Wrenching open the door, he saw he wasn’t wrong. Affry was draped indecorously over a chair—her silk slippers resting on his desk. Her lips puckered into a pout as she rolled a berry through her hand. She glanced up at him as he entered. “Aunty’s party will be the talk of the ton for years to come,” she said in a soft undertone.
His eyes narrowed. “Really Affry, is this what you call a proper introduction to society? I would that London saw what you truly are.”
Affry’s shoulders went rigid. “I don’t see why you are all in a pucker. It isn’t as if I am the one making a scene.”
“Is this your manner of revenge then?”
“Oh la. I gave them a heart.”
“And you ruin them in the process. You’ve made love a weapon.” The marquess was surprised at the anger he let seep through is voice—it stemmed from his deep disappointment. Affry was as selfish as her mother. “This merely proves you know nothing of love.” She blushed then looked defiant, but he wasn’t through with her. “As far as I’ve observed, it is the custom here for a lady to act like one.”
“Yes, yes,” she said, “like Lady Chloris—I am not her, you know.”
“No,” he agreed wryly.
“I daresay, she has made you forget your vow against love.”
He was startled that she knew of that. Or was it merely an observant guess? She blinked furiously and he could see her lashes sparkled with tears. “I like the look of her, Virbius. I beg you, court and marry the lady. She’ll be the making of you.”
“Minx. I can manage my own affairs.”
“Of course and you are much too sensible to believe in all that rot anyway.” She gave him a watery smile, taking him aback, though her next words made his blood run cold. “I know one way to free yourself of the threat of marriage to me…”
“And what is that, my dear?”
“Find a better candidate, though, pray, make it someone worthy of your name and inestimable charm. Or perhaps if you are unwilling, I can help you—I’ve been told I’m a prodigious matchmaker.” She had a glint in her eye that the marquess didn’t trust.
He drew back from her and a lone tear spilled from her eyes, joining the horrid words erupting from her mouth. “Does it rankle to be managed so thoroughly?” she asked. “Perhaps we can reach an understanding, Virbius. I’ll let you alone if you leave the running of my life to me.”
He gave her his deadliest look. “Your father spoiled you rotten, I see.”
“He’d have to be here for that.”
Chapter Fifteen
Affry’s emotions were quickly slipping out of her control. Virbius’s eyes were darker than usual—there was something in them that showed he did not quite find her up to snuff. She was more of a disappointment if that were possible. Her heart lurched at the thought, but still she couldn’t stop. She had never been so out of sorts. Perhaps it was the berry she presently held—all the love inside it left her cold. It burned her hand—still she wouldn’t let it go.
Virbius’s mouth tightened. “Try your worst, Affry. Do you hear? I won’t have you making a cake of yourself when I am your guardian.”
“If that is how you will have it.” Her hand tightened on the last berry—her heart warring with her mind. Her heart told her no, but her thoughts were wrapped up in revenge. Virbius deserved this. He refused to love—and she couldn’t please him. She didn’t care to try anymore.
Before she could give in to her inclinations, he had a hold of her arm instead. “How is it done?” He plucked the berry from her hand and Affry choked as the malice melted from her like drops of stinging rain.
Her head swung around to him when she realized what she had done. “No!” she shouted. “You mustn’t drop that berry!”
He already had. “How did you keep a hold of it so long?” he complained. “It stings worse than a gadfly!” He rubbed his palm—his attention fixed on his hand.
Her hand felt numb where the berry had rested. She knew there was something wrong with it now. Affry had never felt so much hate before and she had hurt Virbius with it. He had no idea what she had done. “Don’t look up,” she whispered. “Don’t look at me.”
The words had the opposite effect than she intended. His eyes drifted to hers—his normally direct ga
ze grew more intense. “Affry! What have you done?”
“Me?” she squeaked. “What have you done, Virbius? I wasn’t going to give you the berry.” At least, she wouldn’t now that it was free from her hands. “It is full of my mischief. Hang it all!”
“It is too late.” He was frighteningly calm—everything about him seemed measured, except for his arrested expression that was focused entirely on her. “My feelings for you—they will all be out, won’t they? I should never have looked at you—you’re worse than Medusa.”
That was hardly complimentary and she tried to make sense of his words. “Oh dear.” She gave a slight laugh. “I am so sorry, Virbius.”
He crushed the berry under his boot, not taking his eyes from her. Affry felt frozen under his considering look until he let out a muffled curse, blaming Aphrodite and her minions. “How do I stop this?” He found a decanter of brandy on his desk and doused his head with it. Affry stepped back to keep from getting sprayed. He let out another ring of colorful words.
“It didn’t work?” she asked.
He clutched the end of the desk, keeping it between them. “Affry, surely you know how to undo this?”
“I don’t know—about a dozen kisses, I’d say.”
“I am not kissing you!”
That was hurtful. She glared back at him. “Oh yes, just think of the scandal—it’s best to get it over with—like setting a dislocated shoulder when one falls off a horse. How bad would kissing me be?”
“I want it more than anything—from the moment I saw you in that ridiculous chip straw hat, but believe me—if I’m to kiss you, it will be of my own accord.”
Affry was momentarily stunned by his admission, and then another thought: “You didn’t like my hat?”
He gave a hard laugh. “Tell me this fades, Affry?”
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