But of course. She had wanted a moment of his time, and he was just as judgmental as the supercilious nobs he disdained, if in a different way. Presenting herself as a courtesan was no doubt how she’d convinced his butler to allow her through the door.
“Find out everything you can about Roger Thorne,” Julian commanded. He knew what it was like to have a guardian who only looked after his own interests. This was worse.
A man who tossed his young, penniless cousin into the gutter was no kind of man at all. Unity hadn’t had the legal or financial means to fight back, but Julian was not so limited. Mr. Thorne did not deserve the title of gentleman—or the rewards he’d reaped by exploiting an underage girl with no other options.
Grenville nodded. “I’ll report daily.”
Julian leapt into his carriage. That was it. No more masks. Unity should not have to be anyone but Unity. There was nothing she needed to prove. Julian liked her exactly as she was.
So what did he plan to do about it?
Chapter 18
Unity had yearned for Julian all week, but her days and nights had been filled with preparations and rehearsals for the theatre’s newest play, which had opened to great acclaim the evening before.
In fact, the success of tonight’s performance was why she was late to the masquerade. The actors had taken bow after bow, and Unity’s friends had been so bubbly with excitement, they scarcely sat still long enough for her to remove their wigs and prosthetics and cosmetics.
Thanks to the extravagantly generous wages Julian was paying her, Unity no longer needed the meager salary she earned at the theatre. The costumes, however, were invaluable.
The night butler held open the door.
“Cleopatra!” he exclaimed with admiration. “You look absolutely resplendent.”
She inclined her head regally. “Thank you, Mr. Fairfax.”
It was after midnight. Unity was the last to arrive. The party would be in full swing, every inch overflowing with giddy revelers.
In seconds, she was across the entryway and through the opposite door, bursting into the crowded ballroom to cries of, “Lady X!” amid the music of crystal champagne flutes clinking in toast.
Julian found her at once.
He didn’t just lock eyes with her. He parted the crowd with his bold stride, caught her by the waist and pressed her to him, then covered her mouth with his.
She kissed him back, putting six days of longing into the kiss.
His kiss tasted the same way. Desperate, delighted, decadent. Society might not condone intermingling of their worlds, but one could always build a bridge between any two people. She could no more keep herself from his embrace than the sky could ignore the stars.
“I missed you,” he growled against her lips.
She fluttered her lashes. “You cannot have been afraid I wouldn’t come. I’m still waiting for a proper tour of the abovestairs accommodations.”
He gave her a strange look.
Perhaps the eye-fluttering had not been clear.Hewas maskless, as always, but Cleopatra wore a glittering ebony mask framed by white feathers before her eyes.
She looped her arm through his and infused her voice with a teasing tone. “I’m here. What completely unnecessary and eye-wateringly boring minute change would you like to show off for me today?”
“We shall inspect the perimeter,” he informed her and all but dragged her to the closest refreshment table.
Her shortbread had a place of honor atop a multi-tiered silver dessert tray.
Not just her shortbread. Several of the ideas she’d presented to him over the past weeks were on display, here and throughout the ballroom.
She gestured at a new arrangement of armchairs. “You accepted my sketches so begrudgingly, I thought you were ‘testing their efficacy’ under duress!”
“I was,” he agreed shamelessly, his eyes twinkling. “I condescended to conduct the experiments only to prove you wrong.”
“But I wasn’t wrong?”
