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“Did I speak too quietly?” she retorted. “Shall I say it again, so ye’ll be sure to hear me? Ye’re a brute, Sir, and ye daenae deserve a lick of an apology.Yewere nae lookin’ where ye were goin’ either. As for the wine spillin’, it was an honest mistake that doesnae deserve yer scorn and yer eye rollin’. Who do ye think ye are, eh?”
The man’s gaze hardened. “I might ask ye the same.”
“I think I’m a lass who was admirin’ the paintings on the wall, mindin’ her own business, when ye came barrelin’ into me like ye had the English on yer tail!” Edwina shot back. “Och, ye’d think I committed a terrible crime, the way ye’re starin’ at me. And if ye think ye can run and tell tales about that vase bein’ broken, ye need nae bother—I’ll pay the Laird for the damage, though if ye hadnae knocked me, it wouldnae be broken.”
The man’s frown deepened. “Paintings?”
“Can ye only speak in whole sentences on occasion?” she taunted, driven into further fury by all of the embarrassments and disasters of the night. “Is it because ye’re a brute? Would ye prefer to grunt yer replies to me?”
A faint smirk lifted one corner of the man’s lips. “I would rather nae speak to ye at all.”
“Excuse me?” Edwina should have known he would be insufferable. The most handsome men always were, and this fellow was just about the most handsome man she had ever beheld. Of course, being a masquerade, there might have been more exquisite gentlemen among the crowd, but she could not see their faces properly. This man, however, did not wear a mask.
I suppose he thinks he’s above the premise of the evenin’,she mused angrily.A clever tactic, but it smarts of conceit.
“Ye heard,” was all he said in reply.
Clearly, he was either a man of few words or he lacked any intelligence to go with his fine visage. Edwina glared at him intently, trying to find some glimmer of intellect in his brown eyes. The hue should have given him a warm gaze, but his haughtiness turned them cold.
His chiseled features, proud nose, pale complexion, tall stature, stiff demeanor, and smirking mouth added to his aloof attitude. A shame, for it rather ruined his beauty. Indeed, it made him seem dangerous, and while some ladies might have craved the thrill of that, Edwina was not one of them.
“Ah, well done, two words this time. Ye managed six before, do ye think ye can achieve that feat again?” she remarked.
The man swept a hand through his wavy, dark hair—so dark it seemed black. “Ye speak very brazenly for a coward.”
“Coward?” she choked out the single word, hating that he had turned the tables on her.
He gestured to her mask. “Someone hidin’ behind one of those shouldnae comment on a man’s knowledge or his speech.”
“It is aMasquerade Ball,in case yer eyes are as bad as yer hearin’,” she said curtly. “Did ye nae receive that notice on yer invitation, or did ye merely choose to ignore it? Judgin’ by the look of ye, I suppose ye’re the sort of man who does as he pleases.”
Nevertheless, she ripped off her mask, not caring how she looked without it. Perspiration had almost stuck the wretched thing to her skin, and her cheeks always turned a livid shade of red when she was embarrassed or angry, but no one got to call her a coward.
“May I now say anythin’ I want?” she snapped, brandishing the mask at him. It swung from her fingers on a yellow ribbon, the empty eyeholes as vacant as the man’s stare had become.
“I assumed ye’d already done that,” the man replied flatly.
Edwina sniffed. “Och, I have nae even begun!”
* * *
With the woman’s mask gone, Felix could not get his mind to work. He did not speak unless it was entirely necessary, but that did not mean he lacked the ability. Yet, standing before this surprising, ferocious woman, he seemed to have lost most of his capacity for speech. Thoughts and retorts came to him, but they would not go beyond the tip of his tongue, rolling back into his throat instead, making it hard to swallow.
“If ye are at this wretched gatherin’, then ye must be somethin’ akin to a gentleman,” the woman continued in a fury that Felix found almost endearing. “Were ye raised with barbarians? Do ye nae ken that it’s the gentlemanly thing to do to apologize when ye nearly knock a lass off her feet, even if it’s both of yer faults? I take me share of the responsibility, but I’d hear ye take yers, too.”
He let her rant and rail, content to observe the most beautiful face. Too beautiful to ever be hidden away behind a mask. Her skin could have been made of porcelain and he would have believed it, with a dusting of lively pink across plump cheeks. Her small chin and big, expressive eyes added to the otherworldly illusion of her, as if she were a cherub or an angel, mingling among ordinary people.
Indeed, there was something truly celestial about her eyes, which were the most unusual shade that he had ever seen. They were not quite gray and not quite green, but somewhere in the middle, like the green slate that they used to mine near Quinn Castle.
Who are ye?
Shaking away the thoughts, he was about to offer some semblance of an apology, when a man intruded on the conversation. He walked past Felix’s right shoulder and took up position next to the furious woman, sticking out his hand in greeting.
“Lord Beckingdale.” Felix tipped his chin down in a halfhearted show of respect to the wiry man, who rather resembled a heron. Even down to the wisps of thin hair that the fellow had attempted to comb over the crown of his head.
In truth, Felix could not abide Kenney Young, the new Earl of Beckingdale. A slimy idiot who had only received the honor of becoming an Earl because enough people had died ahead of him. Felix supposed it was hypocritical for him to judge how another man had come into possession of lands and a title, but at least Felix cared about his people and his Castle, where Kenney just cared about the title and the power and the wealth he had inherited.
“I never thought ye had the inspiration in ye, to hold a gatherin’ like this! After all, rumor says ye’re a hermit that hates company, but I kenned that couldnae be true!” Kenney continued to hold out his hand, waggling it slightly to will Felix to shake it. Felix did not outrank an Earl, but he was a powerful man of influence, with more wealth than Kenney, and Kenney knew it.
