“I dislike being left alone, and no one has noticed me thus far,” the boy reasoned.
“Regardless, you must not speak to me so freely here. ’Twill draw attention I do not wish.” Simone smoothed her veil back into place and rested her hands demurely—she hoped—in her lap.
The set ended and the soft, old lord who had earlier caught Simone’s eye parted from his companion. His fine, fur-trimmed tunic billowed from his considerable backside as he waddled toward her.At least he has a kind face,Simone conceded.
Didier snickered beside her. “Speaking of unwanted attention, the fat one cometh.”
Simone steeled her face into a calm mask as the short, round noble bowed before her. He addressed her in French.
“Lady du Roche, it does not seem appropriate for one of your beauty to sit unattended at such a celebration. Your father has given permission for you to join in the next dance.”
Of course he has,Simone thought to herself.You are a rich old man and ’tis my duty to display the wares.
But aloud, she said only, “The pleasure is mine, Monsieur Halbrook.” And then she placed her fingers into his damp, thick palm with an inward shudder.
He would smash you, were he your husband.
As Halbrook led her to the center of the ballroom and the opening notes of the next set began, Simone struggled not to bolt from the line of ladies she joined and run back to the relative safety of her rented rooms.
Armand du Roche caught Simone’s eye as the women sank into a low curtsey. Simone’s father inclined his head ever so slightly, his auburn hair falling across the wicked scar on his forehead, to indicate the portly lord opposite her. He raised an eyebrow.
He will do, non?
Simone broke gaze with her father to plaster the required smile to her face and concentrate on the set.
Oui, Papa, he will do.
It no longer mattered to Simone whom Armand chose as her husband. Simone, her father, and even young Didier were outcasts in this foreign country, oddities to be whispered about by the gluttonous English. Her entire life was a lie.
Her feet followed the steps mechanically, and she wrapped the coldness of the truth around her like an icy shield.
“You are late, Brother,” Tristan scolded as Nicholas approached. When Nick stumbled into a tall, delicate urn near them, Tristan added, “And also quite drunk, ’twould appear.”
Nick caught the teetering vase just in time and sent Tristan a lopsided grin. “I had some rather pressing business to attend to, I assure you. Lady Haith, you look ravishing this evening. Mother sends her love.”
Nicholas took his sister-in-law’s hand and leaned in to peck her cheek. His lips barely landed on her ear and Haith rushed to steady him.
“Lord Nicholas,” she choked. “Would this business entail dousing yourself in a vat of ladies’ cologne?”
“My apologies, m’lady.” Nick grinned despite Tristan’s glare, as his brother caught wind of him.
“Good God, Nick! You might have at least bathed. ’Twill not be good for William to see you in this state. You know he will wish to meet with you while you’re in London.”
Nicholas shrugged. “’Tis no matter. William will care not that I have raised a cup or two—only that I bring word that his border is safe.”
Nick’s beautiful sister-in-law looked to her husband. “My lord, mayhap ’twould be best if we accompanied Nick to his rooms. ’Twill not do for him to be seen in this condition.”
“It cannot be helped, my sweet,” Tristan replied to the red-haired woman with chagrin. “The ladies have already spied him. He is trapped, I’m afraid.”
Nick turned to the room behind him and indeed saw several pairs of feminine eyes pinned to him as the ladies impatiently finished the current set.
He chuckled with unabashed glee. “Yea, I am trapped, and what a gentle snare it is!”
“Nicholas,” Tristan warned, “the purpose of your attending the king’s birthday celebration—of which you’ve not deemed worthy of your presence until now—is to find a suitable bride. Not to bed the entire female population.”
Lady Haith rolled her eyes at the crude conversation and turned her back to the brothers, sipping her wine and admiring the dancers.
“’Tis only what I’ve been doing, Brother,” Nick insisted. “I’ve been most harried, attempting to determine each lady’s worth.” Nick wiggled his eyebrows. “My investigations have been quite thorough.”
