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The entire ballroom was suddenly covered in darkness, but a moment later, a limelight shone, its powerful beam of light focused on a tall, svelte woman standing at the center of the stage.
Camilla.
Fuck. He had forgotten about Camilla completely, and seeing the mysterious smile lingering on her lips shot a jolt of pure terror through Rathe. He knew then he had only so little time left to make Mary listen and prevent her from leaving him.
Turning back to Mary, he said urgently, “Please listen to me.” His grip unconsciously tightened, a part of him recognizing the fact that no matter what he said or did, it might be too late. “Camilla and I—-”
Hearing another woman’s name on his lips made Mary want to cover her ears. Even if it was Camilla’s name, it hurt. Oh God, oh God, why did he keep saying another woman’s name?
Before Rathe could finish what he was saying, Camilla had taken to the mic again on stage.
“Tonight, I’d just like to share the most spectacular news with every one of you.” Raising her champagne glass to the air, she murmured, “I, Camilla Daughtry, am now engaged to Rathe Wellesley, the Duke of Flanders.”
Mary’s eyes darted wildly to the stage.
And maybe, maybe she was just imagining it but Mary could have sworn her eyes met Camilla’s. Bu this time, there was none of the kindness she was used to seeing in the other woman’s eyes.
Right now, it was all pure malicious triumph, and the same feelings seemed to underline her throaty voice as Camilla said, “So ladies, to celebrate my happiness with you, I’m giving you leave just this once to go to my man and kiss him to your heart’s content. Because after this, he’ll be all mine.”
After taking a tiny sip from her champagne, Camilla raised her glass once more. “Go get him, ladies.”
Her laughter acted like a bell, signaling the start of chaos. She stared in cold amusement as bedlam erupted, female guests giggling, cheering, and as one turning towards the Duke of Flanders to hunt him down.
Tonight would make the most spectacular tale, Camilla thought, and to ensure it she had gone as far as having trusted employees spike the free-flowing champagne with a tiny dose of recreational drugs, just enough to make everyone excited.
Tonight, she would be remembered as the woman who had thrown the most talked-about party of the year.
Tonight, she had started to conquer the world as the Duke of Flanders’ intended bride.
****
The world spun aroundMary faster and faster, making her faint. She looked about her desperately, wishing there was one thing in her surroundings that would jump out.
Rathe couldn’t be so cruel to have promised to marry another woman so quickly.
This couldn’t be happening.
This had to be a dream.
But the women were coming to them in droves, and as her vision started to swim, their faces blurred, melded, turning into grinning, screaming monsters wearing blush and red lipstick.
Dimly, she heard Rathe calling out to her. “Mary? Stay with me, Mary—-”
But it sounded so faint.
And then suddenly, he was gone, his fingers falling away from her wrist as a stampede erupted, forcing the two of them apart.
“Mary,” Rathe roared when the woman he loved seemed to vanish in front of his eyes.
But there was no answer, and a sickeningly ominous sense of foreboding suddenly struck him.
“Mary!”
At that moment, he completely forgot about being a gentleman as he forced himself out of the deluge of women trying to steal a kiss from him.
If he didn’t feel like his world was crashing down on her, he would have laughed at the insanity of it. Who the bloody hell heard of a man being accosted by a goddamn throng of kiss-hungry females?
But Rathe would gladly see none of them forever if he could have just one glimpse of the woman he loved.
