A light tapping on her shoulder drew her attention to a man behind her. She hadn’t had to seek out Mr. Shaw, for he’d saved her the effort. He too was dressed in black and wore raven feathers on his mask. It was as if he’d known about her gown in advance. His eyes practically glowed from beneath his mask, so much so that she couldn’t take hers away from him.
“You have discovered me, sir.”
“I would know you anywhere,” he said in a low husky voice that sent shivers through her. “You have a graceful way when you move that is distinguishable from other ladies present.”
She wasn’t sure he’d noticed that level of detail about her. It was somewhat promising though if he could identify her simply by the way she moved; could that mean she passed through his thoughts as much as he did in hers?
“I am flattered, Mr. Shaw,” she said. “I believe you may have broken one of Lady Fry’s records for the most astute in guessing identities of guests. Have you identified everyone already?”
“I was only looking for you,” he said moving closer to her and speaking in that deliciously deep voice.
“Do you know the best advantage of a masque ball?” Her breath caught in her throat when he spoke in her ear with his hot breath on her neck.
“And what is that?” she whispered.
“No one will know if we sneak off into a corner and I claim the kiss I’ve been wanting for many days now.”
Shivers raced through her body. She already knew what his kisses tasted like and how they made her feel. Would she be able to regain her composure should he truly kiss her? Here? Now?
Her heart beat wildly in her chest as he guided her to a darkened corner out of sight of the other guests and away from the tables with food and drink. It made sense. Anyone was less likely to happen upon them if there was nothing there to find. Unless they too did not want to be found.
Mr. Shaw turned her toward him and lifted her chin with his fingers. He softly brushed his lips across hers at first then cupping her face in his hands, pressed harder against her lips. She parted hers, eager for the kiss to deepen, knowing she was behaving in a positively wicked manner, not caring if they were caught. She needed to know if he kissed like that in real life. Never mind the dreams or the fantasies; this was a real man before her, and she would know what was truth or fantasy.
And oh dear was she ever pleased. Mr. Shaw parted his lips and deepened the kiss, his tongue flicking out to seek hers. When theirs met, a great jolt of pleasure surged through her. She returned the kiss with all her longing and could not imagine that the real kiss was so very much better than her dream.
Mr. Shaw broke the kiss and grazed his teeth along her neck causing her to groan low in her throat.
“By God, Miss Bramston, if you keep doing that we will be guilty of more than a stolen kiss,” he whispered. Stealing one more passionate kiss, he said, “There, that will do me for tonight’s dreams and hopefully yours too.”
He took her hand and, looking all around, moved forward with her and on to the dancefloor. With perfect timing, they arrived just as a new waltz began. He moved their bodies with such precision, she was sure her feet barely touched the floor.
Once the dance ended, they moved to the food and libations table. She looked around to see if she could recognize anyone and finally spied her mother and father approaching.
Her mother guided her to just out of earshot of her father and Mr. Shaw.
“I wondered where you had gotten off to,” she said. “Fortunately for you, I distracted your father. You cannot sneak away like that again, Evelyn. You do understand that, do you not?”
“Yes, Mother, I was only talking with Mr. Shaw over there by the statue.” Evelyn pointed in the direction of a statue that was in the general vicinity of where they were. She hadn’t lied. They had exchanged words among other things.
“Very well, now come and let us speak together so that your father can formally allow Mr. Shaw to court you.”
“Really?”
“Yes, my dear. We have discussed his attentiveness toward you and by your own admission, you prefer him, so we think it is a good opportunity and he and you make a good match.”
When they returned to the men, her father linked arms with her and drew her toward the dance floor. Mr. Shaw did the same for her mother.
“He is a fine young man, Evelyn. Do you prefer him among all others?”
“I do, Father,” she said as he twirled her around. Not so commanding as Mr. Shaw, but certainly a well experienced dancer as well.
“Then in that case I consent to the engagement. I shall turn every other young man away and I will expect a wedding date by the end of the season. Unless you are both so very certain now.”
She hadn’t expected any of this. A courtship, maybe, but to jump straight to an engagement was swift by anyone’s standards. Surely society would gossip about them now. Not really understanding the negotiation process for an engagement, she hadn’t expected it to happen so fast.
“Did he ask for my hand?”
“He asked me if I approved of him. I asked his intentions and he said they were purely honorable.”
