by Mary Wine
Darius glared at the envelope. For just a moment, he suffered the impulse to smile, which annoyed him even further.
“And did the professor make it an official request that I attend?”
Lykos smirked. “Indeed he did. Insisted I set off after you immediately, so you wouldn’t chance missing the event.” His friend patted him on the shoulder. “How is your waltz these days?”
“Deplorable.” Darius paused to read the invitation in the light of a streetlamp. “Even you will likely perform better on the dance floor tonight.”
Lykos lost his smirk, and Darius felt his lips rising at his friend’s expense for a change. “I’m sure the professor would want us to take the matter very seriously, considering she is a Pure Spirit,” Darius observed drily. “What sort of friend would I be to exclude you from a matter so vital to our order?”
“A good one,” Lykos growled before shrugging off his ill humor. “Mrs. Brimmer’s husband’s factory benefits from our inventions a little too much for her to turn her nose up, even if many of her neighbors do. I believe she’s hoping to gain an edge against the competition by issuing invitations to Illuminists. It would be callous of me to ignore the lady’s attempt to charm my brethren.”
It was risky. The Helikeians blended into society very well; no one knew that better than Darius did. Anyone might notice their interest in Miss Aston, but the Professor was on the council and had the right to command a Guardian in cases of Pure Spirits.
“You can escort Decima,” Darius suggested smugly. “She’ll be delighted.”
Lykos choked, earning a grin from Darius.
He forced himself to consider the saving grace of the invitation. Watching Janette among her high-society compatriots would no doubt place her in a position to join them in their disdain of his Illuminist allegiance. Once she sneered at him or turned her back on his offer of a dance, he’d be able to sever the connection he felt. The fact that he didn’t like the way that made him feel sent him home in search of his evening attire. He would pay her court and recall just what happened when he forgot what ladies thought of him.
***
The Brimmers’ home was impressive, and the lady of the house knew how to ensure her neighbors were talking about her party the next morning. The ballroom was lit with Illuminist lamps, the lack of smoke welcome. Servants kept the long buffet table looking as though no one had touched it, while butlers offered drinks in crystal goblets. But tension filled the guests as Illuminists were admitted.
“I simply cannot believe it,” her father sputtered.
Janette bit her lip to maintain her silence. Her father removed his spectacles, cleaned them with a handkerchief, and put them back on before squinting at the Illuminists standing so calmly inside the Brimmers’ home.
“We should leave immediately,” he announced firmly.
Janette’s mother gasped. “We will do nothing of the sort. Mr. Brimmer does plenty of business with you, and we cannot afford to upset his wife. She might well complain, and who knows how tender their relationship is? Appearances, dear, we must maintain appearances.”
“Perhaps you’re correct, my dear,” her father grumbled. “I know little of how to deal with the sensitive side of women’s emotional natures. I much prefer our civilized union, but I understand there are many couples who embrace a more emotional condition. We shall stay.”
Janette almost wished her father would order the carriage brought around.
Coward.
She didn’t care for just how true her inner voice was. Forcing a smile onto her lips, she called upon every ounce of self-discipline she had to look across the room at Darius Lawley.
The man could look like a gentleman when he chose to, she noticed as she drew in a deep breath. But that didn’t ensure that he’d act like one.
Is that a fact or a hope?
She felt heat rise to her cheeks as her thoughts ran wild. All because of Darius Lawley, once again. He triggered something inside her, something she discovered she liked too much.
She tried to focus on his attire to bore herself. He was dressed in a formal black overcoat and pants. His vest was the only garment setting him apart from the other guests. Instead of formal white silk, his was a robin’s-egg blue. He was accompanied by another man and a woman, both wearing their Illuminists pins proudly. Darius still wore the ear device, and there was more than one guest attempting to look at it without being caught staring.
Oh no, not a one of them might commit the sin of looking curious about the Illuminists. Such an action was unforgivable among high society. Fools.
The woman looked the most uncomfortable, as if the dress she wore was something she found cumbersome. It was very similar to Janette’s, with a fan-type front formed with smocking and a full skirt held out with a taffeta petticoat. She flipped her blond curls back when she felt them on her collarbones, but she’d pinned her gold Illuminist pin to the front of her dress to ensure no one missed it. For the moment, her dance card dangled from her wrist, no gentleman reaching for it.
“Do you see who is here?” Janette asked as Sophia arrived.
Sophia hurried up, her petticoat rustling from moving too quickly. An older lady turned and looked down her nose at them.
Janette wrapped her fingers around her friend’s wrist—their hands hidden by the volume of their skirts—and tugged her down into a curtsy.
“Good evening, Miss Garret.”
“Ladies should never scamper like nursery-age children.” Miss Garret delivered the slight in a tone full of arrogance.
Sophia tugged Janette away. “Sour old spinster.”
“And you said I’d be the one getting us sent to the Highlands,” Janette whispered. “Be overheard saying things like that and we should go home to pack our trunks tonight.”
“Go home? So early?”
Janette gasped as Mrs. Brimmer turned around to peg them with a shocked look. “I simply will not hear of it. In fact, you two are exactly who I require at this moment. You shall assist me in breaking the ice that seems to have formed. I have been planning this event for a year, and I will not suffer this tension, I tell you.”
“Of course,” Janette muttered. Mrs. Brimmer frowned at the evident lack of enthusiasm in her tone.
“Come now. You two are young and full of vigor, much too young to be prejudiced.” She snapped her fan shut against her gloved hand. “At least I was more open-minded when I was your age. I shan’t have my guests glaring at one another. No, indeed, I shall not. Why do your parents insist on trying to act as though they did not court during a time that was so much more fun?” Mrs. Brimmer actually winked. “We had summerlong parties in the country, flowing gowns, and none of these long stays. Those cotton gowns would let the summer breeze right up your legs.” Her eyes twinkled with something that looked a lot like naughtiness. Janette found herself staring at the woman because that sparkle was in such contrast with the prim and formal-looking hostess Mrs. Brimmer presented in her evening matron gown, which was buttoned precisely at her neck. She lifted a hand that sported a white glove, and motioned to Janette and Sophia. “Follow me.”
Janette hung back. Sophia gave her a jab in the ribs, but Janette still refused. “That’s him. Darius Lawley.”
“You’ll just have to suffer through it. We can’t be frozen here when Mrs. Brimmer turns around. She’ll be insulted,” Sophia warned. “So come on.”
Janette stepped forward. Sophia was correct; they didn’t dare insult the woman by refusing her request, but Mrs. Brimmer was heading straight toward the Illuminists. Janette felt the assembled guests turn their attention to her and Sophia. If Mrs. Brimmer noticed, the formidable lady never allowed it to show. She maintained her perfect poise and unhurried pace until she was standing in front of her Illuminist guests.
But the twinkle in her eyes brightened, betraying just how much she enjoyed playing with her guests’ priorities.
“Good evening, Miss Decima. I am delighted you could attend. Gentlemen,
may I present Miss Sophia Stevenson and Miss Janette Aston, two ladies of keen intelligence. I have complete confidence in their ability to recognize what suitable gentlemen you both are.” Mrs. Brimmer didn’t raise her voice, but she didn’t need to. The conversation in the room had almost stopped as she made her formal introductions. She turned to Sophia and Janette.
“May I present—”
“Janette has made Mr. Lawley’s acquaintance already.” Sophia’s eyes widened when she realized she’d spoken her thought aloud.
“She has? How fortuitous.” Mrs. Brimmer tapped her fan against her gloved hand. “Mr. Lawley, would you do me the honor of starting off the first dance set with Miss Aston?”
“Quite delighted, Mrs. Brimmer.”
Darius offered her his hand, but there was a flicker of challenge in his eyes that made Janette hesitate. She recalled too well her lack of ability to maintain her poise when she was near him. Sophia jabbed her in the side with a sharp elbow to jolt her into action. Darius clasped her hand, and the connection sent a tremor across her skin.
Fans opened as they passed, whispers filling the room. She and Darius stood alone in the middle of the dance floor for a moment that felt endless. At last someone cleared their throat, which prompted other men to offer their hands to the nearest lady before Mrs. Brimmer was offended. Silk petticoats rustled and heels hit the floor too hard as couples rushed to join the dance set.
The musicians struck up a lively tune. Janette curtsied and moved forward for the first close turn of the dance. A shiver shot down her spine the moment she tipped her head back to maintain eye contact.
“You might at least wipe the smirk off your face,” she snapped. “I’d have danced with a leper to avoid displeasing Mrs. Brimmer.”
She swept away, grateful for a chance to catch her breath. But when the steps called for her to be turned about with him close behind her, he took the opportunity to reply.
“As would I.” She gasped as his words teased her ear. “But you’re dancing with an Illuminist, somewhat the same in your father’s eyes.” His tone wasn’t dark and teasing, but somewhat expectant.
“Do you ever get tired of warning people? I thought you felt returning to my father was the best action I might take.”
The steps took her away, and his demeanor changed. A flicker of amusement entered his eyes and his lips curved, but the expression wasn’t pleasant. She faltered when it came time to move close to him once more. Her feet felt stuck to the floor. Darius covered her hesitation, cutting in with a longer step to make sure he was flush against her back for the next turn.
“Yes, but you cannot stand in the middle of the road, Janette. I doubt your father will have anything nice to say about our dancing together.”
“I agree.” She felt satisfied for some reason. Oh, her father would no doubt be quite angry with her, but the look of surprise on Darius’s face was worth it. “You really need to accept the fact that I am not frightened of you.”
Or of being near him. She should have been, or at least wise enough not to rock the boat. Instead, she discovered herself rising to the challenge in his eyes.
“And you should accept the fact that we are from two very different worlds,” he countered before turning her once more.
It wasn’t right that he looked as if he expected to be slighted—or maybe she just didn’t care to be so predictable. She liked thinking that, among his brethren, women didn’t need to be mindless ducklings who always simpered when in public. She liked even less the fact that he was pointing out what her father expected of her. The man was an Illuminist; she craved something different from him. It was like a thirst she couldn’t seem to quench.
The music finally rose to signal the end of the dance. Janette slid into her starting position before sinking into a curtsy. The room filled with soft applause created by gloved hands.
“Thank you, Mr. Lawley.”
She noticed her father shaking his head with disapproval. Her mother stood by his side, fanning herself at a frantic pace. But there was also something in her mother’s eyes that looked very much like approval.
“My pleasure, Miss Aston.” He took her hand but didn’t kiss the back of it. Instead, he looked like he was attempting to solve some sort of puzzle. “I believe I need some air after dancing with you,” he added quietly.
Mrs. Brimmer overheard him from her position on the edge of the dance floor.
“The gardens are a feast for the senses. Go and enjoy them.” She waved them off, casting approval on them with her smile that dared any of her guests to condemn their actions. Janette saw her father start after her, but Mr. Brimmer stepped into his path and her father was forced to stop and offer his host a formal bow.
The Brimmers were old blood but maintained their fortunes with new industry. The rest of the guests might whisper, but no one dared comment aloud because future business deals might not appear if the Brimmers were offended during their party.
Janette knew she would be on her own with Darius Lawley, just as she had been before. A bolt of excitement shot through her as he placed her hand on his forearm.
“Still unwilling to offend your hostess?” he asked quietly, but not so much so that she didn’t hear the expectation in his voice. The man certainly did think he knew a great deal about her.
“What I’m unwilling to do is back down from the challenge you insist on directing at me,” she informed him through a smile she’d practiced in front of her mirror.
“I am not a toy for you to satisfy your need for amusement with,” he admonished her softly.
Some of her anger faded. Again, she heard expectation in his tone.
“I believe I could fairly accuse you of the same thing—you mentioned the garden.” Her heart accelerated as they neared the open doors and the garden beyond came into sight. “Well, I am not so timid, sir.”
There was only one reason a couple retired to the garden during a dance…
“You don’t lack spirit, Miss Aston. But it would be in your best interest to refuse me.”
His hand rested on top of her gloved fingers. She could feel the steel-corded muscles of his forearm, and his grip wasn’t gentle either.
“Why do you want me to?” She tightened her grasp on his forearm.
His eyes narrowed. “I will take you into the garden, Miss Aston. But are you quite certain you want to continue this game? It is sure to be the topic at every breakfast table in town.”
He slowed his pace, giving her ample time to jerk her hand away while still in full view of the guests.
“I refuse to give you the satisfaction of believing I cannot suffer the gossip of being alone with you while my peers know it. Besides, it would be quite rude.”
He guided her down a stone walkway and around a corner so that they disappeared from the sight of the guests. That was when he gave her a look at his true emotions, his expression now one of frustration.
“But that leaves you to deal with me alone, yet again. I find your choice interesting.”
“At least I do not feel as upset by that fact as you sound, Mr. Lawley.”
The night air teased her cheeks, cooling them and reminding her that she was blushing. He continued on, not stopping until they were far enough away that the music became only background noise. The air was still warm enough for the jasmine to be blooming, and late-season roses also added their sweetness to the air.
Once out of sight of the ballroom, Janette pulled her hand away. “Is it necessary to sound so annoyed with our circumstances? I believe you are the one offering me insult. Perhaps you are the one truly worried about being the topic at breakfast? Are your Illuminist brothers going to condemn you for spending time with me? Will holding your head high be difficult among the members of your Order tomorrow?”
Maybe she was mad to take such a bold approach with him, but his constant warnings awakened a reckless need to do so. In his world, women could speak their minds, and she wanted to make sure he noticed she was up to the ta
sk of having a logical discussion with him. The man would not find her wits lacking.
“If you believe I’ll begin muttering polite topics any matron behind us would approve of, simply because I was raised a lady, you are going to be disappointed.”
He folded his arms across his chest and studied her. The pose was considered common in polite society, but it drew her attention to how muscular he was beneath the fine wool overcoat. He really was an overly large man; she doubted her head would reach his chin, and his jaw was lean, telling her he was very physical. It also drove home just how annoyed he was with her for not slighting him.
“I’m warning—”
“Yes, yes,” she interrupted. “As you have done before. But I will not believe it was necessary for me to reject you to protect myself.”
He chuckled, but the sound had a sinister quality. “Your education is lacking, Miss Aston. I would have thought your mother would have instructed you on the dangers of being alone with an Illuminist.”
“Your being an Illuminist doesn’t have anything to do with it.”
Yet her mother had warned her of exactly that on many occasions. Walk out with an Illuminist, and your reputation will be tarnished…
He cocked his head to the side. “I know what the polished upper crust thinks of me. I’ve seen their sneers often enough.”
There was his expectation again, the firm belief that she would look down her nose at him. She refused to give him the satisfaction—even if he was correct. Trouncing back into the ballroom would please her father enormously.
“Then by all means, return to the party before someone thinks you brought me out here for a moonlit kiss.” She turned her back on him, suddenly as frustrated as he appeared. “I wouldn’t dream of sullying your reputation by having our names linked over breakfast tables tomorrow.”