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“Then you must forgive me for all the things I think I would like to do to you.” He grinned as he lips parted once again. “Did you enjoy the kiss?”
Her cheeks flushed. “You will most certainly get us into trouble tonight.”
“If I could be so lucky.” He grinned. “I do believe you have your next dance scheduled with Baron Martin.”
“Yes, that is correct.”
Wesley raised a brow. “You could tell him that you are my wife, and you are no longer available to dance with eligible bachelors.”
“Or I could uphold my commitment and make sure that I haven’t let myself fall smitten with the very first beast who kisses me.”
“You want to make me fight for you.” He was ready.
“No need to growl, you wicked beast. I just want to make sure these feelings are for real.”
“Then dance with whoever you wish, my love. I will be here waiting for you to come back to me.”
Phillipa rose from the bench. The sun was setting, and the riotous colors of the sky complimented everything about her. She belonged in nature. If only she could be wolven with him. He would love to run with her under the light of the full moon.
She disappeared inside the Hall. The dance had yet to start, and he could afford her a little space before he watched the dance.
He was always watching her. For months, she’d had no idea. But from now on, she would never be without him.
“Wolven, I see the lady Phillipa is dancing with my friend, the honorable Baron Martin.” A serpent slithered beside him and took that seat that had been occupied by Phillipa “Forgive me, we haven’t been formally introduced. Earl of Swindon, but most here simply call me Simon.”
He held out his hand, forgiving the impasse that a snake of lower rank was introducing himself. If he was friends with the baron, he may have more news about Phillipa that Wesley did not care to hear. The serpent looked somewhat human from the waist up, and he all turquoise, purple, and blue scales from the waist down. Wesley couldn’t help but stare; he was quite spectacular.
“Never been close to a snake, I take it.” The earl laughed and flicked his forked tongue. “I haven’t seen you around these parts before.”
“First time.”
“Yes, Martin said you were new to the Ball. You’ve made quite a splash during that last dance.” He laughed. “I do not say that to shame you. Such public displays of affection are quite common at the Monsters Ball. Just wait until later tonight.”
Wesley shifted in his seat, thinking of Phillipa naked under the moonlight.
“I’ve already had a bit of fun this evening,” the serpent added with a grin. “My lady friend and I were talking about the new attendees of this Ball. This was not her first time either. Some ladies choose to come for fun, and then go back to their polite society lives. Why? It is beyond me. But I digress. The new attendees tend to catch the attention ofThe High Tea. Are you familiar with it?”
“Can’t say that I am.”
“Oh, it’s a terrible gossip rag. The reason it is so terrible is that it’s usually correct. And I hate to admit how much I enjoy every wicked word. There must be someone here doing the reporting because their finger is squarely on the pulse of the party. After my lady friend and I enjoyed each other’s company, we decided to peruse the latest issue to see what we could learn about our new friends. And I came across something that I think might be of interest of you.”
Wesley grumbled as he took the newspaper from the serpent.
Dearest Reader,
Word has it that Miss Phillipa Willoughby—or is that the Duchess of Chelmsford? It depends on how legitimate you consider her unconsummated marriage to the Duke of Chelmsford—caused quite a commotion when she left her Southampton home to attend our fine Ball. Her mother, who was the most disappointed of all of us that Miss Willoughby refused to participate in the most recent Season, brought signed annulment papers to Her Majesty, to convince Queen Charlotte herself to rescind her demand for Phillipa’s presence at The Monsters Ball. By the time Mrs. Willoughby returned home, Phillipa was gone, presumed to be on her way to the Ball. No one would admit to assisting her transit after they were all expressly forbidden from bringing her to Broadstone Hall.
Rumor has it that Mrs. Willoughby is on her way to Maidenbury, with the plans to retrieve her middle daughter and bring her to the Royal Hospital.
Will she make it in time before Her Majesty blesses the new—or old—couple?
Sip slowly, my friends. Night two of the Ball will not fail to excite.
Lady Grey
Wesley gasped, and the serpent nodded when he looked at him. “There’s been no word of Mrs. Willoughby arriving yet. But I would assume it would take her a bit of time to get her affairs in order and do her best to tamp down the budding scandal.”
“Mine,” Wesley growled.
