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Edwina chuckled, feeling a trifle more confident at the appearance of some prospect, at last.
They made their way to the ladies' retiring room, grateful to find it empty, and there went over their plan once more, deciding that Edwina would shadow him and find a way to get him alone. Kitty would then wait a while before following them, making sure she brought company. A scandal might be her only hope.
"What if he is ugly?" Kitty asked, gesturing for her to turn around. She began working on her stays, tightening them to further expose and accentuate her bosom. Edwina felt self-conscious and bare, but she immediately dismissed those feelings. This was necessary.
"A man in possession of his kind of pull is rarely ugly, Kitty. He seems like a Lord, too. Besides,anythingis better than tending to children in Cornwall for the rest of my life."
"There." Kitty took a step back to admire her handiwork. “He won’t be able to resist you.” Edwina was uncertain if her nerves were to blame for her trouble breathing or her tightened stays.
They stepped out into the hallway and were on their way back to the ballroom when they saw their sandy-haired gentleman striding out of it. "Even fate is on your side tonight, Edwina.” Kitty shoved her forward, urging her to follow him. “Remember Cornwall.”
He walked down the hall and she followed, pretending he was not even there but with each step, her legs felt less like they were a part of her body. He disappeared behind a set of double doors. She stopped before a painting on the wall, pretending to admire it, and waited for about a minute to pass before approaching the doors. He had left the doors ajar, and she slipped in quietly.
It was a library, a large one that was divided at the center by a grand bookshelf. The room was well lit but her gentleman was nowhere in sight. The room’s quietness filled her with trepidation. She stepped forward, the heels of her slippers clicking against the parquet floor.
What in God’s name am I doing?
Sudden clinking sent her into a nervous frenzy, and she took several steps back, thankful the bookshelf shielded her from him. How did one approach a gentleman they were out to seduce?
The clinking came again, almost as though glass had been lightly struck with something, then footsteps followed. Edwina felt betrayed. All the books she had read had made the entire endeavor seem easy enough. Some had even dared to call it ‘The Art of Seduction’.
There was neither art nor grace in frantic heartbeats and weak knees, at least not in the way she was feeling them. With a trembling hand, she plucked a tome off the shelf but lost her grip and dropped it. The dull sound filled the room and she shut her eyes.
Several beats passed before she bent over to pick it up, her movements coinciding with approaching footsteps. Her eyes moved from the book to immaculately polished black leather shoes.
"Have you been following me?" the gentleman asked.
Edwina swallowed.
Chapter Two
"You did not tell me Roxanne was attending the masquerade." Albert Winfield confronted his cousin Steven in his study while the guests were making merry in the ballroom.
"I did not invite her if that is what you are asking," Steven replied in a flat tone. "You know how these events are. You invite one person, and they bring their entire household with them. She may be the guest of a guest."
Having been raised by an overly critical father who found fault in him and pronounced it with every second breath, the Duke of Rowan had developed a thick skin, allowing very little to rile him. Tonight, however, he found himself unable to contain his rising ire when he was revisited by a traitor from his past who shamelessly walked about without care after trampling on the most important part of him. His heart.
Roxanne Perkins had been his fiancée before he found her in the arms of another man. Her face was one he could never forget and would recognize behind a thousand masks. The face of betrayal. Although he had no lingering feelings, the sight of her dancing happily reminded him of how stupid he had been. Perhaps even how stupid he still was for clinging onto so much bitterness and refusing to lay the past to rest like she ostensibly had.
"Still,” Albert continued, “this is your party, your masquerade. Surely you ought to have some control over it."
"Like you have control over that castle of yours in Bath?" Steven cocked a brow.
Albert had not visited the property in Bath in nearly three years but it was never devoid of activity. His friends had house parties there throughout the year which he happily paid for. Because he liked to stay in control of his affairs, he made sure to check his accounts and list the names of his friends that had made merry on his property. Should a time come when he would seek a favor from them, he had leverage to use.
"I suppose you have a point." Albert conceded.
"Where is your sense of adventure, Al?" Steven chuckled. "It is a bloody Masquerade! On a night like this, nothing should be on your mind save for the booze and women. Never say you are becoming tamed."
A wolfish grin spread across his features. "I am impossible to tame. Your Masquerade is boring, Steven. You have only gently bred women here.”
“Come, we are in London and thetonis here. We cannot have our usual entertainment. There is the opera singer, however.”
Albert pursed his lips and thought about the exotic woman with the voice of a siren. “I don’t fancy her. Besides, she has a protector.”
“Entertain yourself with the young, lovely widows here. I saw Lady Stenton dancing.” Albert leaned back in his chair.
Albert grinned. Lady Stenton was a delight and he thought to seek her out before the evening ended. "It is a masquerade and rules are meant to be bent this evening." Steven tilted his head. "Enjoy yourself, Cousin. And pay no mind to certain guests."
