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Two Masquerades and a Major

Page 46

by Eloisa James

Joshua hadn’t noticed and didn’t give a damn. “I’ve told you before that I prefer to introduce myself without hyphenation. The title was conferred after I left my father’s household. I see no reason why I should change my name, and I have not done so.”

“You deserve to be hyphenated for pulling me away from our hostess,” Frederick retorted. “Regrettably, after more than a decade of marriage, Her Grace still seems to be in love with her husband. It must be her American blood. The British don’t dance with their spouses, let alone dangle after them.”

“You would know,” Joshua said wryly.

“I do know. The duchess flirts with me merely to annoy her duke, but I am happy to engage.” He threw Joshua a smirk. “In lieu of bedfellows, she and I have become close friends.”

“Both my lady and her cousin are wearing scarlet dominos,” Joshua said, ignoring his brother’s folly.

“I already know that,” Frederick said, sighing. “I read the note, and you reminded me in the coach. Brandy is presumably to be found in the cardroom, so I’ll let you know if a scarlet domino is hovering over the dice.” He set off.

Joshua scanned the mass of revelers, noting the palpable difference between this event and Rothingale’s masquerade. There, the ladies’ apparel had hinted at a state of undress, and most men had been in black with brandified noses and lecherous smirks.

By contrast, only the very top of society had been invited by the Duchess of Trent and, if anything, the nobility were wearing more clothing rather than less. Joshua recognized the unmistakable girth of a royal duke, garbed in sky blue, skin-tight pantaloons, with a Roman toga incongruously pinned to the shoulders of his tailcoat.

No scarlet domino was to be seen. Joshua made his way through the crowd in the ballroom before striding across a room set out with trays of hors d’oeuvres, glancing into the game room where men were smoking cigars and watching a billiards game, and even walking into a room set aside for tattling dowagers.

Not a single guest wore a red cloak. Frustration pounded through Joshua’s veins. He wanted to see her. He wanted to learn her name, pull her into his arms, and assure her that she needn’t marry a repugnant man chosen by her father.

He couldn’t stop imagining her eyes dark with worry instead of shining with desire. Her lips tight with anxiety rather than sweetly inviting. Her—Joshua became abruptly aware of a lady’s lingering glance below his waist. With a muttered curse, he made for the edge of the room and leaned against a wall, staring into space as he willed his body to calm down.

Frederick had been right about his lady’s distress: her follow-up missive had begged Joshua to meet with her, calling it “a matter of life and death.”

Life and death, indeed. If her father married her to another man, Joshua would go off to the battlefield without giving a damn about his fate. Their brief meeting had changed something in his very essence.

He was literally starving for her touch.

His brother suddenly appeared at his shoulder. “Found her!”

Joshua jolted upright. “Where?”

Instead of telling him, Frederick started braying with laughter. Joshua reached out, caught him by the back of his collar, and gave him a hard shake.

“Watch that!” his brother barked, shoving him away. “I’ve poured the better part of a decanter of brandy into an empty stomach.”

“Where is she?”

Frederick’s mouth again curled into a wicked grin. He waved his hand at Joshua’s waist. “I feel as if we’re lads of fourteen again. You’ve put all the family jewels on display.”

“Oh, for God’s sake,” Joshua snarled, adjusting his breeches. The conversation had already deflated him to half-mast.

“She just entered the ballroom,” Frederick reported. “Wearing a scarlet domino and accompanied by Lady Regina rather than the cousin you described. I recognized her companion by the circlet of diamonds she dons at every opportunity.”

Joshua wheeled about and headed for the ballroom.

“Regina, by the way, is the prettiest and most poisonous lady on the market,” Frederick said, following him. “Can you believe that she informed my godmother that I was an inebriate whom she wouldn’t consider marrying?”

“Yes,” Joshua tossed over his shoulder.

“I was appalled. Not that she’s wrong, but ladies aren’t supposed to be so forthright.”

“Why not?”

“No one but a termagant would say it aloud,” Frederick grouched. “Wasn’t your lady’s presence here supposed to be a secret? If so, she should be careful. Regina is not only pugnacious, but a virulent gossip.”

Joshua began making his way through the ballroom, heading toward the entrance on its far side. He didn’t see a red domino, but the duke and duchess stood at the base of the steps, surrounded by a crowd.

Frederick trailed after him, still grumping about Lady Regina.