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Judge can’t be rude to any of us while in his company. It works to my benefit, but I don’t doubt it’s just as much for Theron’s too. He does seem rather pleased with himself as he leans into me, whispering in my ear.
“Don’t worry, we’ll find a way to liven up this evening somehow. I suspect copious amounts of alcohol should help.”
There’s no earthly way Judge could have any idea what he’s saying to me, but his eyes narrow in on us as if he can. And then they move over my riding gear before noticing that Theron is wearing his too. It’s impossible to miss his nostrils flaring before Margot enters the room with a flourish, Miriam carrying a tray behind her.
“One martini with a twist.” Margot hands the drink to Hildebrand herself. “And Judge, I took the liberty of having Miriam pour you a scotch. I’m sure you’ve had a long day.”
Judge glares at her as he takes the drink from her hand, and then Miriam approaches the loveseat, her lips twisted in indignation that she’s being forced to serve me.
“Your Riesling, Ms. De La Rosa.”
I take the wineglass from her with amusement. “Thank you, Miriam. That was so kind of you.”
She ignores me and hands Theron another glass of scotch.
Once we all have our drinks in hand, Margot takes on the role of hostess, engaging Hildebrand and Judge in conversation, forcing him to participate. They discuss Society business, reminisce on old cases, and debate the merits of the current education practices for the younger generations.
Meanwhile, Theron takes every opportunity to move closer to me, never missing the way Judge’s eyes move to us when I laugh at one of his brother’s jokes or offer him a coy response. At one point, Hildebrand makes a casual observation that Judge will have to keep me under close watch, lest Theron steal me away to the altar. If that wasn’t enough to send Judge’s temperature to the boiling point, Theron’s reply that he’s already picturing a spring wedding does the trick.
He’s goading him, and it’s so obvious, but Judge is letting it get to him. I can see it by the way he keeps tugging at the tie around his neck as if it’s choking him. As if he’d like to remove it and strangle the very life from Theron himself. It pleases me far too much to see we’re getting under his skin, so I take it up a notch when we head for the dinner table, continuing with the joke that seems to amuse Hildebrand so much.
“I told him he’d have to get in line. I have my choice of Sovereign Sons. So many fine men vying for my attention. How can a lady ever choose?”
Hildebrand snorts. “I would have to agree. You do seem to be a favorite among the bachelors. In fact, I can recall one man being so flustered by your presence he walked right into a wall and knocked himself out because he couldn’t seem to drag his eyes away from you.”
“Ah, yes.” I laugh at the memory. “Poor Mikael. The funny thing is he never said a word to me. Too nervous, I suppose.”
“You have that effect on men,” Hildebrand remarks. “But don’t let it sway you. Find yourself a partner who doesn’t shake like a leaf in your presence. I’m of the belief one can only ever be satisfied with a match their equal. And you, Ms. De La Rosa, need a strong man beside you.”
“On that, we can all agree.” My eyes intentionally move to Theron as I offer him a flirtatious smile.
I don’t have to look at Judge to feel his gaze on me. It’s burning right through me.
“Pardon the interruption.” Miriam and Lois enter the dining room together, carrying trays of food. “Dinner is served.”
30
Mercedes
The conversation continues throughout dinner, and Judge grows increasingly quiet as Theron and I participate in a quiet game of who can piss him off more. Throughout the evening, Theron grows bolder, resting his arm on the back of my chair to play with strands of my hair. Kissing my hand before he helps me up from the table. Spinning me around to show off the dance moves his mother taught him as a boy.
I soak up his attention, intentionally avoiding any glances at Judge, though I can feel his eyes on me. It’s a dangerous line I’m tiptoeing, and I know I’m probably going to pay for it later. But right now, I’m going to enjoy every second of torturing him.
“How about we have that word in private now?” Hildebrand asks after he’s finished his third martini. “It’s getting late, and I don’t want to keep you.”
Judge turns his focus to us, and I already know what he’s going to say. He’s about to issue his order to go to my room, but Margot cuts him off.
“I’ll keep Mercedes and Theron company,” she says. “You men go talk shop. We won’t disturb you.”
“It’s getting late,” Judge says. “Mercedes needs to get to bed.”
“Oh, let her socialize for a bit longer,” Hildebrand chides him. “It’s good for her. And you won’t do anything untoward, will you, Theron?”
“I wouldn’t dream of it.” He feigns dismay at the idea.
“See.” Hildebrand pats Judge on the back, leaving him no choice but to follow.
Not five minutes after they’ve gone, Margot conjures up a fake yawn. “I am getting tired myself. Perhaps I should get back to the cottage.”
