He strained to keep from roaring with laughter. “As I said, your secrets are safe with me.”
The dinner gong sounded, causing every guest to turn toward the front of the room and slowly form a somewhat orderly line that jostled a bit as the various members of the peerage shifted to their appropriate places.
“Lining up in pecking order is ridiculous,” Fortuity said as her brother the duke moved closer to the front of the line and offered his arm to a dowager duchess whose name Matthew couldn’t recall. “We are all guests, for heaven’s sake. Are we not?” She reached for her reticule and withdrew her folded bit of parchment and tiny stub of graphite. “I must make a note to avoid this silliness in any of my stories.”
“Shall I assist you in removing your mask before you take your place in line with your partner?” As a viscount, Matthew regretted his place was farther down the way than whomever the daughter of a duke might pair with. In this instance, the age-old ritual disappointed him. He would much rather stand in line with Fortuity.
She looked up from her scribbling and eyed him with a mischievous smile. “Shall we be naughty?”
The sultriness of her tone belied her innocence and caused him an immediate awareness of the increasing tightness in the crotch of his pantaloons. He shifted in place, doing his best to shadow the bulge of his rather uncontrollable reaction to her question. “Naughty, Fortuity? You? Surely not.” While he didn’t wish to be fed to one of her sisters for ungentlemanly conduct, neither could he resist her. “What, pray tell, do you suggest?” He shifted again and loosely clasped his hands in front of the part of his person causing him issues.
“My goodness, you do fear Serendipity and Blessing, don’t you?” Her lighthearted laugh softened the accusation. “It is nothing serious, my lord. A mere shuffling in the supper line to stir the guests properly before they sit down to enjoy their meal. It would be a most useful experiment to observe their reactions, and how the situation is handled with courtesy and decorum.”
“A shuffling in the supper line? You do realize I cannot step in front of a higher-ranking peer?” In other words, hewould not.He prayed she understood.
“Oh no, you couldn’t possibly take such a risk as that, and I would never ask you to do so.” But mischief danced in her eyes as she looped her arm through his. “Shall we see what happens when I partner with you, thereby causing an upward shift of rank among the ladies?”
“I should say the ladies would be quite pleased. But one must wonder how the gentlemen will look upon it.”
“Exactly. And that is the usefulness of the experiment. How will they react?”
“Lady Atterley could very well pull you aside and direct you to your correct position,” he warned. “Would that not be embarrassing for one who usually secludes herself in the draperies with her scribbling?”
“Lady Atterley was a dear friend of Mama’s. She will more than likely send Chance or Serendipity after me.” She patted his arm. “But we shall never know unless we try. Are you willing?”
“Are you, my lady?” He did not wish her shredded by theton’s sharp tongues. Something about this rare woman made him determined to protect her, even if it meant protecting her from herself. “According to your brother-in-law, the gossips are already whispering about our two waltzes together. If you toss your head at standard decorum and plant yourself at my side, will it not stir them into a frenzy? Have them assume we are something we are not?”
The mischief in her eyes extinguished like a candle’s snuffed flame, and something about her changed, became diminished. She quickly turned aside and gazed at the supper line. “You are quite right, my lord. What was I thinking?” She dipped a quick curtsy his way, then rushed off, moving to her appropriate place in the ridiculous pecking order waiting to be seated in the dining room.
Matthew groaned and damned himself for being a bacon-brained fool. While attempting to save her from public scrutiny and ridicule, he had bruised her feelings himself. While he hoped she cherished their warm friendship as much as he did, did any woman truly want it thrown in her face that their relationship would never be anything more?
But then, did Fortuitywantmore from him?
Something stirred deep within him, a dangerous wondering, the tiniest flickering of something he might once have called hope. With a roll of his shoulders, he tossed the implausibility aside. No. Fortuity did not want more than friendship. None of the Broadmere sisters portrayed themselves as eager to wed, and he most definitely did not wish to marry.
He kept his gaze locked on her as she waited in line up ahead but still within view, her head held high, occasionally huffingat the crimson feathers on her mask and rubbing her nose. His heart went out to her. Did she not realize she was the only guest still masked? Even with the silly red featheriness of the thing, she was beyond beautiful, a precious jewel. He had never understood how anyone could think her plain.
Tossing his own mask to a nearby table, he settled in his proper place and offered a detached nod to the viperous Lady Serafina Mellincotte, one of the three huntresses who had hounded him all evening.
“We meet again, my lord.” She looked up at him through her dark lashes, then batted them with such fervor, he was tempted to inquire if she had something in her eye. “Are you enjoying your evening?”
“Lady Atterley never fails to host the perfect gathering.” A vague answer was always best when dealing with the more dangerous members of theton.Lady Serafina might not be the daughter of a duke as Fortuity was, but her viscountess mother had trained her well. Rumor had it that she had already reduced more than one of her fellow debutantes to tears, and several gentlemen feared she would eviscerate them next.
“Are you not going to inquire if I am enjoyingmyevening?” She quirked a brow, strangely making him think of a pine marten he had once come across in Scotland. Her brown hair and elaborate gown strengthened that impression with its creamy front inset in a dark cocoa satin. The mask dangling from her wrist even bore fur. And the tiny member of the weasel family fit her perfectly. While the animal could be quite pleasing to watch in its natural habitat, one must always remember not to touch it because of its fierce teeth, sharp claws, and appetite for smaller mammals.
“Well?” she repeated, a little more sharply.
“Forgive me, my lady.” He didn’t attempt to sound at all contrite because, frankly, he didn’t care. “Have you enjoyed your evening?”
She moved closer until their shoulders subtly touched while they made their way to the dining room. “Indeed, I have—except for the waltzes.” She tapped on the dance card dangling from her wrist beside her mask. “I saved both spots for you, but you chose another.”
He simply smiled, then shifted his attention elsewhere, refusing to rise to her bait.
“Well?”
Not attempting to stanch a disgusted huff, he turned back to her. “Well what, my lady?”
She jutted her chin higher and narrowed her eyes. “I see.”
