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Chapter Fourteen
“Are you really going to go through with this, Artemis?” asked Jane in a low voice. Behind her elaborately decorated mask, worry clouded her green eyes.
“Yes,” added Lucy. Her gaze was also shadowed with apprehension. “As much as I would adore having you as my companion, I would understand if you wanted to change your mind, even now. Severing all ties with your aunt in such a dramatic fashion is not something to be sneezed at. There will be no turning back once you and the duke are discovered together.”
“I know,” said Artemis. “And I’m nothing but grateful for your concern. Truly. But I’m afraid thereisno other way.” She inhaled a steadying breath. Her stomach might be aswarm with butterflies, but she had never been so determined. And if she were honest with herself, she would also acknowledge her blood was humming with excitement at the mere thought of Dominic’s kisses. They’d already shared a waltz this evening, and she couldn’t wait to be in his arms again. “This must be done,” she continued. “Tonight. Everything and everyone is ready to play their parts. Our preparations couldn’t be more perfect. The Duke of Dartmoor is just waiting for my signal.”
They were presently gathered on a secluded balcony that overlooked the main ballroom. Despite Dominic’s notoriety, at least two hundred guests, if not more, had accepted Lord and Lady Northam’s invitation to attend. Beneath crystal chandeliers, waltzing couples spun about the dance floor creating a brilliant kaleidoscope of color, while tight knots of other masked guests watched or conversed with great animation. Champagne and laughter flowed, and the swelling strains of the orchestra provided a constant lively undercurrent to it all.
Indeed, the entire room was brimming with a gay, almost licentious air that reminded Artemis of a masquerade ball at Mardi Gras. Perhaps it was her imagination, but the very air around her seemed to vibrate with expectation…
Artemis turned to Jane, who looked truly lovely this evening—not that she didn’t always look lovely, but like Artemis, she’d often had to make do with less than fashionable attire. Tonight, she’d borrowed one of Artemis’s brand-new ball gowns—a confection of emerald-green silk taffeta and lace—and the sweeping feathers and ribbons that adorned her mask helped to conceal the worst of the scarring on her cheek. Clusters of artfully arranged ringlets courtesy of Lucy’s clever lady’s maid completed the look. Of course, Jane was resigned to the stares of strangers, but tonight, she’d stated that she wanted to blend in as much as possible; she didn’t want to create a stir.
No, that was Artemis’s job. And the time to do exactly that had arrived. She touched Jane’s arm. “I think it’s almost ten o’clock. Will you let His Grace know that I’ll be in the library in a few minutes?”
Jane offered a smile. “Of course, my dear friend. And good luck.”
Lucy watched Jane quit the balcony. “Goodness, I’m rather glad you asked Jane to speak with the Duke of Dartmoor. I’m sure I’d faint before I even reached his side. The man is too handsome for words. All that brooding intensity…” She flicked open her silk fan and fluttered it madly for effect.
“I agree,” said Artemis. She was hard pressed not to stare like a starry-eyed fool whenever she caught sight of him. Attired in a black-as-midnight evening suit with a matching black velvet mask and a red satin–lined domino, he reminded her of the wickedly handsome and charismatic antihero she’d created for her bookLady Violetta and the Vengeful Vampyre. “I still can’t quite believe that he agreed to take part in my scheme when he easily could have said no. But I’m so glad that he did.”
Lucy gave her a nudge. “He obviously likes you. Perhaps more than you think.”
Artemis snorted. “I doubt it. In any case, I can’t afford to dillydally about here any longer.” She winked at Lucy and then picked up her mazarine-blue skirts so she could safely negotiate the winding staircase to the floor below where the Northams’ library was located. “The show is about to begin.”
***
When Artemis entered the library, she discovered it was deserted, just as they’d planned. Dominic had discreetly stationed one of his own footmen at the door to discourage other guests from entering. If anyone else was intending to have a romantic rendezvous this evening, they’d have to go somewhere else.
She surveyed the well-appointed room with its floor-to-ceiling bookcases and decided that the best place for Dominic to “seduce” her would be a brocade-upholstered settee that graced the Turkish hearthrug before the fire. It also faced the door. Anyone who walked in couldn’t fail to miss a romantically entangled couple sprawled across its plump, claret-colored cushions.
As Artemis approached the fireside, she removed her velvet-and-lace mask and placed it on a side table. Although the mask was pretty, it would get in the way when Dominic and she were kissing. Besides, she wanted Aunt Roberta to see that itwasher wayward niece, no one else, being debauched upon the settee. Her aunt mustn’t have any doubts.
The Boulle clock on the mantel chimed ten o’clock, and Artemis’s pulse began to race and reel faster than a polka. She trusted Dominic wouldn’t be too much longer. Every minute counted. Once Jane had delivered her message to the duke, she and Lucy were tasked with rounding up Aunt Roberta, and Phoebe too, if she hadn’t been asked to dance. Artemis had last spied them near the entrance to the supper room chatting with Dominic’s sister. Jane was to quietly inform Aunt Roberta that she’d seen Artemis enter the library with a gentleman in hot pursuit. That was sure to get Aunt Roberta’s attention.
Although her aunt and dear Phoebe would both be upset, Artemis believed it was better to rip off the bandage as quickly as possible. To make a clean break. Then, when the dust settled and the resultant damage was found to be minimal, all of them could get on with life in ways that made each of them happy. Phoebe would marry. Artemis would find a sponsor for her school. And Aunt Roberta could continue to freely meddle inotherpeople’s lives. Just not her nieces’.
Artemis subsided onto the settee and then fidgeted with the curls brushing her bare shoulders and the cameo attached to a dark-blue velvet ribbon at her throat. Even though she’d usually berate herself for fussing with her appearance, tonight, a wholly feminine part of her did indeed want to look attractive for Dominic.
She needn’t have worried because the moment he stepped into the library, his gaze wandered over her with frank appreciation and his mouth slid into a lopsided, rakish smile.
“Miss Artemis Jones.” His voice was a low growl as he kicked the door shut, then prowled toward her. “Fancy meeting you here.” He tugged off his gloves and threw off his cloak with a theatrical flourish and then joined her on the settee.
Artemis couldn’t help but laugh. “Have you been practicing your entrance, Your Grace? It’s very dramatic. I approve.”
Behind his black mask, Dominic’s eyes glinted, not just with mischief but something keener and hotter. Smoldering expectation perhaps. “One has to make an impression, Miss Jones. A ruination, staged or not, must be done right. And with great zeal.”
“I won’t disagree with you. Shall I remove your mask, or would you like to keep it on?”
“What do you think?” he purred. He leaned in close and brushed a bare fingertip along the edge of the ribbon, just above Artemis’s collarbone, raising gooseflesh. “I’m at your complete disposal. I’ll do whatever you want.”
Dominic was clearly taking delight in playing the role of wicked seducer; despite the fact he was overacting, his performance was working. Flutters of desire began to gather in Artemis’s lower belly. “Although I cannot see all of your handsome face, I rather like how you look with it on,” she murmured. “It lends you an air of mystery and adds an element of excitement to our illicit encounter.”
“Ah, then I shall keep it on,” he said, his voice as soft as dark velvet. One of his hands slid around her bare shoulder. “The question is, how illicit do you want this encounter to be? You suggested a passionate kiss or two would suffice, but I’m amenable to almost anything if you are… Tell me what you truly desire.”
“Oh…” Artemis’s pulse raced hard and fast as her imagination began to run wild. She slid her fingers up Dominic’s silk-lined lapels until they came to rest upon his broad shoulders. “Well, passionate kissing is definitely permitted,” she murmured huskily. “And perhaps a little caressing and fondling. Some nibbling and licking. But all of our clothes should remain on. I don’t want my aunt to have an attack of apoplexy.”
“Understood. However…” Dominic swept aside her curls and placed a whisper-soft kiss on her jaw. “Is a degree of mussing and rumpling allowed?” Another kiss, this one in the secret, sensitive hollow just below her ear. “It will be difficult to make a ruination look convincing otherwise.”
