“I’m not a lord.”
His tone was flat, and she dearly hoped he wasn’t feeling as though he were surrounded by better men, because he wasn’t. No one she knew was as kind or interesting as he. “No, you’re Dick Turpin, an infamous highwayman. Why him?”
“His story always fascinated me.”
She shook her head. “The things you know.”
“You can learn a good deal spending your evenings in taverns. I once visited one where he supposedly drank on occasion. They still talk about him—legendary hero to some.”
“But if he’d really been a hero, he’d have not been hanged, surely.”
“Perhaps not, but justice isn’t always meted out fairly.”
She didn’t want to talk about justice or hangings. “We’ve gotten rather maudlin.”
“We’re dressed as people who came to a tragic end.”
“Then let’s pretend tonight they had no tragic end but lived happily ever after.”
He wanted to give her that happily ever after, a silly thing to want when she lived in a world such as this. Although he hadn’t missed the shine that had lit up her eyes or the brightness of her smile when her gaze had fallen on him and she’d realized he’d come as promised.
He’d been here for a while, getting a measure of the place, the people. One of the reasons he’d been such a skilled thief was because he never rushed into anything, but took his time, cataloging all the varied nuances of a situation, ensuring he took no missteps. He’d done the same tonight, knowing it was crucial he be mistaken for an aristocrat. He had little doubt that if his true origins were suspected, he wouldn’t be merely pleasantly escorted off the property, but would be hauled off to jail with a punch or two delivered along the way for his arrogance.
The earl and countess wouldn’t like at all that he’d invaded their exclusive ball. But Vivi liked it. She liked it a great deal, which made the risk worth it.
The tune that had been playing finally came to an end, and he led her onto the dance floor. His brother Mick’s lover was a duke’s widow, and she’d taught him how to waltz and Mick had grudgingly taught Finn. It seemed he believed as Aiden did that Finn was a fool for spending any time in the company of an earl’s daughter, but they were the fools for not understanding what it was to feel complete when in someone else’s presence. They didn’t know what it was to experience unrivaled joy when taking hold of a hand or gazing into green eyes. His world was drab and dark, his days filled with hard, often gut-wrenching tasks—but whenever he saw her, his past, present, and future were more colorful and brighter. His troubles melted away, or at least they scurried into hiding. As long as he was with her, he was filled with hope.
At that precise moment, his arms were filled with her. Perhaps he held her a little nearer than he should have, his legs brushing up against her skirts, but she didn’t chastise him for it. Instead she wore a wicked little half smile and watched him through teasing eyes that signaled she knew what he was about. He wished they weren’t wearing the damned masks. He wanted to see her face in its entirety, here in a room where half a dozen crystal chandeliers rained gaslight down on them.
While her eyes were more visible than he could ever recall seeing them, the mask did throw shadows around the emerald. Green had become his favorite color but there were so many different shades that he wasn’t certain he’d ever seen one that matched her eyes exactly. He was grateful her mask stopped just below her nose, that her mouth remained visible to him. Her pink lips tempted him to lean in and take possession of them. His hand, with his fingers splayed, spanned a good deal of her back. She was such a delicate creature that he feared she wouldn’t be able to survive in his world.
He required a lot of coins if he had any hope at all of making her comfortable. The absurdity of contemplating a future with her was not lost on him.
“I’m impressed,” she said. “You’ve not stepped on my toes once.”
“I would do nothing to cause you harm.”
Her eyes warmed. “You may not be nobility, but you are most certainly a gentleman. There is no one within these walls who I hold in higher esteem.”
Her words touched him deeply, and he didn’t doubt for a single moment she meant them.
“Will you dance with others?” she asked.
“No. I’m here for only you. You’re the only one I care about, Vivi.”
For the space of a single breath, he thought she might lean in and kiss him. “There are two more waltzes and I’m going to dance them with you,” she said instead. “It’ll be scandalous, but I don’t care.”
“What makes it scandalous? We’re dancing now.”
She laughed. “A lady isn’t supposed to dance more than twice with a gent. Silly rule, isn’t it?”
“I don’t want another waltz with you. I want to take you someplace where I can kiss you.”
She bit into her lower lip. He’d never noticed before but one of her front teeth was slightly crooked, lapping over the other. The sight of it did something funny to his insides, made him want to protect her all the more. “Between those two waltzes are three other dances for which I have no partner. Perhaps we can take a stroll about the garden.”
Away from everyone else, where he’d be more in his element, wouldn’t feel as though he was under constant observation. “I look forward to it.”
Dancing with him had been a dream come true. He was so light on his feet. Little wonder she hadn’t heard him enter her room that first night. And the way he’d held her, respectfully and not. Where her fingers had rested against his, he’d tightened his hold as though he never intended to let her go. At her back, his hand had claimed her, and she’d dearly wished he’d brought her in nearer, had urged her closer. She should have gone anyway, but she suspected somewhere her mother was watching, brow deeply furrowed, striving to determine with whom her daughter was dancing.
