Too open. Too loving. Too genuine.
And she wasn’t his entire world. She never was and never would be. His smile played for the hundred pairs of eyes surrounding them on all sides, not for her.
The thought was the splash of cold water she needed. Tonight, she had a role: loving wife to Nick’s loving husband. A smile matching his in brilliance curved her lips, even as she felt it didn’t quite reach her eyes.
In the next heartbeat, the quiet broke, replaced by the buzz of bees swarming. It was the sound of gossip, excitable and relentless.
The curious numbness of the evening gone, her sleeping fury reawakened and began to rise. As she took her first step forward into this uncertain night, duplicitous smile pasted onto her face, she allowed her fury to enshroud her like a protective cloak. She wouldn’t be distracted from her intention to take a lover.
Never mind that she’d never shared a bed with a man other than Nick. Tonight, she would remedy that. She was a diamond, unyielding and multi-faceted.
And if within those illusory facets hid a weak spot that had never sufficiently hardened, only she needed to know of it. She would see the seduction through. Tonight was the beginning of the rest of her life without Nick.
Only he didn’t know it yet.
Chapter 23
Carry witchet: A sort of conundrum, puzzlewit, or riddle.
A Classical Dictionary of the Vulgar Tongue
Francis Grose
Nick spotted Mariana across the starlit garden, and confirmation, deep and true, settled in his gut. She was his.
A smile that refused to be suppressed opened wide across his face, stretching muscles that hadn’t been used since childhood, and possibly not even then. If he appeared foolish, then that was the price he must pay. He wanted everyone to see his feelings for her, but, even more, he wanted her to see them.
With every step he took toward her, his world shifted into balance by increments. His feet ticked along at a pace, swift and sure, as he navigated through the party, maneuvering around effusive waiters, knowing Society smiles, and obstructive topiary animals.
With only a dozen feet to go, the path to Mariana cleared, and it was only him and her beneath a low-slung crescent moon that shone solely for them. Even if the moon had shone full and bright tonight, it couldn’t match the tide of her smile inexorably pulling him toward her.
He hesitated just shy of her and silently held her gaze. Words weren’t necessary. Not after this afternoon.
“Nick,” she began, “there is something you must know.”
Unable to resist the feel of her, he stepped forward and slipped his arms around the supple curve of her waist. He tipped his head and met the pulsing bend of her neck with his lips. A soft sigh released from her. Emboldened, his mouth trailed up to her ear, and beneath his lips a light dusting of goose bumps rose. “Play along as nicely as you did earlier,” his voice rumbled, “and I’ll reward you . . . again.”
A duo of heartbeats later, her body stiffened into a rigid line, and she slipped entirely out of the circle of his arms. Perhaps she thought they were scandalizing Society?
Strangely exposed and uncertain, he opened his mouth to question her when yet another hush descended over the crowd, drawing all eyes. He quashed his unease and followed the collective gaze, where he found the king’s heir Charles, the Duc d’Artois. Nick couldn’t help a grudging respect for the pretentious coxcomb. It was a savvy and bold move, walking into the lion’s den, even as his brother, the Bourbon king, lay on his death bed.
Nick glanced down to find Mariana quietly taking in the scene. They would have to set aside their future until the matter of the Duc’s assassination was put to bed. He angled his mouth toward her ear. “Louis is expected to die tonight.”
“And the Duc d’Artois is attending an Orléans soirée to shore up the support he needs for his claim to the throne,” she finished for him.
“If the death is announced”—He needed to ask one more favor of his wife—“rush over to the Duc and create a little scene.”
“Why?”
“We need a distraction at that precise moment.”
“And who arewe?”
His eyes narrowed on her. She held herself with a mien of disinterest, but a closer inspection revealed the opposite. Her eye held a sharp light. There was a correct answer to her question, but he wasn’t certain what it was. “I have another agent placed in the garden,” he said carefully.
“Ah,” she said, a brittle smile curving her lips. “Should I seduce the Duc right then and there?”
“Over my dead body,” he stated, sudden ferocity rearing up within him.
