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Very well, then, my lord. You might be the gentleman, but I have my own ways of smirking right back at you.

“Corvindale, I insisted on speaking with you because I felt you should know all of the information. I had hoped you’d do the courtesy of telling me what is happening and why. But apparently you cannot be bothered to do even that.”

She drew her shoulders back, and settled her hand on a hip, digging her fingers into her flesh in an effort to keep from curling them around his neck.

If he wasn’t going to give her the information she wanted, she was going to make his life as difficult as she could, including opening the curtains in every window in the house. And putting vases with flowers on every table. And reordering all of the books in his library. And… “I also wanted to speak with you because it will be of the utmost importance that Angelica is seen out and in Society. This must happen as soon as possible so as to combat any rumors or on dits that might have begun since she disappeared after the masquerade. That is the only way to preserve her reputation.”

“And this concerns me, how?” He sounded deeply bored.

Maia gave him her own version of an arrogant smile. “Because you must be seen out and about with us. Quite a lot. In the next few days. In order to ensure that Angelica’s reputation isn’t besmirched, we will need the presence of an earl.” Not that she was going to enjoy being in his company that much, but if she’d learned one thing about the earl, it was that he hated being bothered by people.

Any people, for any reason.

Going out in Society for the next several nights, due to his duty—which he’d also demonstrated was something he would not shirk—was going to be a most unpleasant experience for him.

Thus, she would enjoy every minute of it.

She turned to go, and then paused to look over her shoulder. “I shall determine which invitations we will accept, my lord, and then advise your valet so that he can see you are properly dressed for the occasions.”

And she would make certain that she would pick the most crowded, flamboyant events to attend. Just because she could.

With that, she walked out of his chamber and closed the door with finality.

6

IN WHICH OUR HEROINE MAKES A CONFESSION

“Angelica?” Maia rushed out of her bedchamber, hair swinging loosely, nightgown bunching around her feet. “What is it?”

She’d been in a half slumber, spiraling into that warm, red world of sensuality that seemed to lure her every night as of late. It was the first night since her return from Black Maude’s that Angelica had slept in her own bed, and Maia had kept her ears attuned for any sounds of distress from her sister’s chamber…until she slipped into her dreams.

There must have been something that woke her, for when she came out into the hall, she nearly collided with Angelica.

“Oh!” her sister said, obviously surprised to see Maia.

“I was coming to check on you,” she said, looking at Angelica’s wide eyes and pale face. Something had happened. Something more than a dream… Then she noticed something in her sister’s hand. “What’s that in your hand? A stick?”

But even as she said it, she understood. It wasn’t merely a stick in Angelica’s hand, held close to the folds of her night gown, but a stake. Meant to stab a vampir. “Oh,” she said. She looked at her sister and their eyes met. The poor darling! She’d had such a horrible experience.

“What are you doing awake?” Angelica asked.

“I came to check on you. What’s happened?” Maia asked, grabbing Angelica’s hand and allowing her to lead the way back to Maia’s chamber.

“I had a dream,” Angelica replied. But Maia noticed that she glanced covertly back toward her chamber, as if expecting to see something. Or someone coming out of the door. “That Vo—that Dewhurst came into my chamber at night.”

Maia looked at her sharply, her attention captured. They settled on her bed and she closed the door most of the way behind them. She left it cracked in the event there was something to hear from the corridor without.

“Darling, I’m so sorry,” Maia said, closing her fingers around Angelica’s. Her hands were chilled, so unusual for the warm summer’s night. “How terrifying it must be. I didn’t hear you cry out, although I heard something that sounded like you mumbling in your sleep. Or talking to someone.”

“It seemed so real,” she whispered. Her eyes were far away. “He…”

Maia couldn’t help but think of her own dreams. Certainly they’d awakened her…but never because she was frightened. Only because she wanted them to be real. She squeezed her sister’s hands and struggled for the words to comfort her. “Sometimes dreams can be more frightening than reality,” Maia said. “And sometimes, they can be so much more…beautiful…than reality.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well.” Maia felt her face warm as she realized the direction in which their conversation was going. She sat up and pulled a pillow onto her lap, clutching it over her torso. Perhaps this wasn’t an appropriate conversation to have after all. “I don’t know if I should tell you about it. After all, you’re still unwed and—”

“And so are you,” Angelica shot back. “You aren’t married yet, dear sister, and so you haven’t any more experience than I have.”

Maia couldn’t hold back the little smile that came along with the warm bubbling in her belly. “But that isn’t true, dear younger sister. Alexander and I have—” She stopped and decided that there were some things Angelica didn’t need to know. The very thought of Alexander and his imminent return made her middle fill with nervousness. She collected her thoughts, trying to figure out just how much to confess. “Well, we are engaged, and Chas and the lady patrons haven’t been as vigilant as they were before our engagement was announced.”

Angelica’s eyes bulged, and Maia read the bald shock there. Obviously she believed that her elder sister was just as prim and proper as did the rest of the world. Including Corvindale.

“You and Mr. Bradington have—”

“No, no,” Maia said. “Not exactly. Not precisely. But… Angelica. It’s quite nice. Erin and Beth are right. It’s very pleasant. And I think it gets nicer.” She could do nothing to diffuse the blush warming her cheeks.

“And what does this have to do with dreams being better than the reality? Or did you mean they were more frightening than reality?”

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