“His younger brother, Louis Fairfield,” Wesley said. “I’ve met him several times as well. We deployed to France at the same time, actually, but he got sent home from the war quite quickly—some kind of injury was the story, wasn’t ever revealed what kind.”
“Brother?” Rory furrowed his brow. “I thought those sorts of inherited things went to sons.”
“When there is one,” Wesley said. “But the previous Duke of Valemount had only daughters—five of them—and with no son, the dukedom went to the brother. Hell, my title would go to my second cousin, Geoffrey, if I die first, a fact he reminds me of with some frequency,” he added dryly.
“So we have a duke descended from a paranormal duke with a relic, and he’s a fairly recent duke at that.” Arthur tapped his chin. “If we go to England, can you arrange a meeting with the duke, Wes?”
“Certainly,” Wesley said. “Honestly, I’d hardly have to arrange a thing: we’re on the same guest lists for the same parties. In fact, the very marquess who likely has no idea his maid was magically murdered, Lord Thornton,is hosting a ball at his country home and Valemount and I are both invited. But it’s Friday next, and we’d have to be on a ship tomorrow to make it across the Atlantic in time.”
Jade and Zhang exchanged a look. “Is that right,” Jade said slowly, her eyes still locked with Zhang’s.
“It’s fine to miss this particular ball, truly,” Wesley said hastily, and he seemed to be carefully not looking at Sebastian. “It’s one I’m invited to through a club that Thornton, Valemount, and I are all in. It’s a—you know what, it doesn’t matter. The point is, it’s nearly December and the Christmas season will mean plenty of other wretched social events to attend. Perhaps we can find a ship leaving next week?”
Wesley had been in a hunting club with Sir Ellery. What club were Wesley and Thornton and Valemount in together?
Sebastian opened his mouth, but Stella’s musical voice, amplified by the carbon microphone, suddenly filled the speakeasy.
“We promised you Latin night tonight!” Up on the stage, the spotlight flashed off of Stella’s red sequined dress. She clapped her hands together. “And coincidentally, we’ve got a brave rescuer with us tonight who gives us a fine excuse to take our music south. Who’s ready?”
Sebastian felt his cheeks flush. The crowd cheered as Stella’s band struck up a Cuban rumba, and couples began filling the dance floor.
“Look at you blush.” Wesley’s expression had turned amused. “Imagine if you were wearing a proper tailcoat right now. You’d be perfectly dressed to go up onstage for the crowd to admire.”
“Onstage?” Sebastian shuddered. “I’d rather sit here and be ignored, thank you.”
“Ignored, huh.” Rory’s gaze darted past Sebastian, and his lips curled up. “I don’t think that’s gonna happen.”
Before Sebastian could ask why not, a new voice, soft and feminine, sounded at his side. “Excuse me.”
Sebastian startled, turning to find pretty young woman around his own age, with a brown bob and red lips, was standing next to his chair, smiling at him hopefully.
“I don’t mean to interrupt,” she said. “And I don’t mean to be forward. But I just figured you might be one of the only fellas in this club who’d know how to dance to this with me.”
“Oh,” Sebastian said in surprise.Don’t look at Wesley, don’t make it obvious.“Well, I—”
“He probably is,” Wesley said, just a little gruff. “So go on, then. Give the lady a dance.”
Sebastian met his eyes. “It’s just a dance,” Wesley said, holding his gaze. “If you want to dance, you should.”
Sebastian absently touched the lion tattoo, where Wesley’s warm fingers had rested. He did want to dance. He wanted to dance withWesley. After midnight, the Magnolia usually had couples of all kinds on the floor, but he and Wesley had never joined them; plenty of people from Fifth Avenue snuck into the Magnolia, and Wesley had been seen many times in Arthur’s circles. Neither he nor Sebastian were willing to risk stories getting back to any of the Kenzie family or their political rivals, not when it could draw attention to Arthur and Rory.
So Sebastian buried the desire to pull Wesley to his feet, and instead stood and held out his arm to the young woman. She took it, and he walked her through the tables.
“What’s your name?” he asked, as they stepped onto the dance floor.
“Edith.”
He took her hand and experimentally spun her, and she moved easily with it, laughing. Her hand came to rest on his shoulder, her hips softly swaying into thequick-quick-slowglide of their steps. She was a good dancer, and they rapidly found their rhythm together among the other couples, slipping into that blissful place that came from movement and music.
As the song came to an end, he dipped her backward, and the band seamlessly transitioned from rumba to tango. As he pulled her back up, Edith grinned. “Another? If you’re having fun?”
Hewashaving fun, and he loved the tango. He glanced over at the table, but Wesley was deep in conversation with Arthur, paying absolutely no attention to them. Sebastian pulled Edith in closer, hand on her lower back as they crossed the dance floor together, their cheeks close.
They made a half turn with brisk steps, her movements perfectly mirroring his as they leaned into the bend. “You’re very good,” he said into her ear.
“I must’ve seenThe Four Horsemen of the Apocalypsetwo dozen times.” She was flushed and smiling. “I could watch Valentino for hours.”
“Such a handsome man,” Sebastian agreed.
