Page 4 of The Hood and his Thief

Chapter two

Rhosyn grappled with the urge to twirl continuously just to watch her skirts swirl around her. Instead, she settled for a playful sway as she waited, just for the joy of feeling their fullness swish back and forth.

As much as Contessa sometimes grumbled about the impracticality of her wardrobe when trying to get something done, she still held herself elegantly, as if she were born to it. Rhosyn on the other hand, felt rather like she was wearing a costume every time she ventured into polite society, but she let herself enjoy the frivolous novelty.

“You look colorful,” Contessa greeted as she walked down the stairs of her home to the front hall where Rhosyn waited.

Rhosyn held up her arms and twisted this way and that, so her friend might fully admire the vivid orchid of her dress. “My hair makes me bright enough anyway, there’s no point in trying to blend in.”

While Contessa’s lady’s maid, Julia, had tamed Rhosyn’s coppery red hair admirably before scurrying upstairs to help her mistress, it still had an air of wildness about it that could not be smoothed. Julia, thankfully, had practiced doing Rhosyn’s hair many times, when she was dreaming of a life as a lady’s maid as a young Lion living in the Den. She knew it was better to work with Rhosyn’s riotous ringlets, letting the stray curls frame her face instead of pinning them into oblivion and ending up like a rat’s nest.

“I have to admit, I like the bright colors better when every available inch isn’t covered in frills and bows. The dress suits you well,” Contessa complimented as she reached Rhosyn.

She herself was in her customary gunmetal gray silk, and while Rhosyn would have felt silly in something with an air of such understated elegance, it suited Contessa perfectly. Instead of washing her out, the sedate color complimented her pale complexion and silvery hair, the exact opposite of Rhosyn’s, as it easily smoothed into a silken twist. Her icy eyes matched the dress nearly perfectly. If Rhosyn hadn’t spent several months years ago dumping Contessa on her ass and watching her reddened, sweaty face twist in frustration, she might even find her beauty cold.

Now, Rhosyn grinned wryly, and her friend smiled back.

A familiar stomping interrupted them as Nate marched into the hall. “Ready, ladies?”

“Watch who you’re calling a lady,” Rhosyn shot back, even as Nate behaved like a perfect gentleman and offered his elbow to his wife, who grasped it delicately with her gloved hand.

Nate shot Rhosyn a look as he donned his top hat, indicating he would ruffle her hair if it wasn’t clear how much effort had gone into it, and the trio headed out to the carriage. The Woodrow’s manservant, Gregor, already had it out front, waiting to take them to the palace for the night’s festivities.

“What about the others?” Rhosyn asked as the carriage began trundling across the cobbled streets, slowly climbing towards the palace at the top of the hill.

“The Pearces are taking their own carriage, and Joseph sent a runner to tell me he would be making his own way to the palace tonight, since he was coming directly from headquarters,” Contessa explained.

Rhosyn nodded. Even though the Lions were not what they once were, back when the name and membership in the gang alone was enough to grant you a modicum of protection in the lower city, they existed in a different capacity now. The Woodrows, along with Kristoff, Gregor, and Rhosyn, stayed true to the purpose of helping the Talented in London, albeit in somewhat less illicit capacities. The Pearces, Benedict and Scarlett, had joined their band a few years ago after helping dismantle the underground Talented fighting rings. As much as Chief Thorne—Joseph—was part of their group too, he was unlikely to admit it out loud.

“Well, thank you for bringing me along,” Rhosyn said earnestly. “I know this is a bigger imposition than bringing me to the odd party and implying that I’m one of Nate’s distant relatives.”

“It’s not an imposition if you’re here on business,” Nate pointed out. “Contessa and King Byron want to put a good face on both sponsorships for the Talented and the Royal Police’s continued loyalty to the Crown. It’s why, on nights like tonight, he has his other security relieve me of my bodyguarding duties, so I can be paraded around like a rehabilitation success story.”

Nate’s tone held wry amusement, as if the thought of the former Beast being an exemplar of anything for the crown was an amusing joke, but he took it in stride.

When they arrived at the palace, Rhosyn had to focus to keep her mouth from hanging open as she took in the sights. Servants led them into the garden where the soiree was to be held, decorated with enough lanterns to send the Woodrow’s sizable house up in flames. It gave the whole thing a dreamlike quality, enhancing the elegance of the socialites already milling about in pools and eddies of luxurious fabrics. The moment they entered the crowd, Contessa and Nate were whisked away into the conniving grasps of those who wished to gain an advantage by ingratiating themselves with the King’s bodyguard and trusted advisor.

In a matter of moments, Rhosyn found herself alone at the fringes of the party, spending most of her effort on appearing like she belonged, and most likely only drawing attention to her lack of proper poise in the process.

Rhosyn tugged at her dress, suddenly conscious of the way it hung on her and the tightness where it clung to her waist and dipped low at the neck. As much as she loved it, she almost regretted her bold color choice as she found herself dressed in the most eye-catching shade in the vicinity. She attempted to brush off the thought, squaring her shoulders and not thinking about the way it caused her bodice to pull dangerously low. It always amused Rhosyn that Contessa continued to wear an expression like she was doing something forbidden every time she donned pants when she showed this much of her décolleté on a daily basis.

A playful elbow in her side distracted Rhosyn from her worries about her presence among such elegant company. Rhosyn looked down to see Scarlett Pearce at her side. At this point, it didn’t surprise her that the woman could sneak up on her, as Rhosyn was convinced Scarlett was half a shadow herself.

Scarlett looked pointedly at Rhosyn’s hands, which were fisted in the fabric of her skirt, sure to leave wrinkles. She uncurled her fingers with effort, intentionally pressing them flat on her lower bodice so they wouldn’t misbehave.

“I still feel a little out of place at functions like this, as much as I work with the King these days,” Scarlett confided quietly, clearly having sensed Rhosyn’s moment of discomfort.

“At least you have a suitable dance partner to make sure you don’t end up standing in a corner completely out of place,” Rhosyn pointed out, just as the man in question, Scarlett’s husband Benedict, stepped up behind them.

“And what a wonderful dancer he is,” Benedict joined into the conversation seamlessly. Scarlett smiled up at him fondly, and he smoothed her chin length hair back, as if he would tuck it behind her ear if it weren’t on the side where the side of Scarlett’s head bore nothing but scar tissue after a run in with a stray bullet.

“If a dance partner is what you need, I might just be able to help,” an unfamiliar voice joined the conversation.

Rhosyn turned to find an unknown man, although she didn’t know how her eyes hadn’t jumped to him the moment she entered the party. After all, how could one consider looking away from someone so ostentatiously dressed, yet disarmingly handsome?

A jade-green waistcoat, nipped in tightly around his waist, accentuated his athletic figure as much as the matching color of his mischievous eyes. A metallic gold vest and cravat, along with canary-yellow pants should have clashed, but the casual pose and crooked smile he wore transformed the look from obnoxious to endearingly eccentric.

Rhosyn blinked. The whole effect was remarkably charming, but it struck her that was exactly what the man was aiming for—like he had modeled himself after a character in one of Contessa’s books and not a real person.