“What does that mean?”
“It means that a mask cannot hide anyone. It means that the members of this club wear masks at gatherings such as this for titillation as much as preserving privacy.”
That much was true. Oh, he had no doubt some of the lords and ladies in attendance—all members of the highly secret Wicked Dukes Society, over which he presided with his five friends, the dukes of Brandon, Camden, Whitby, Riverdale, and Kingham—were either too obtuse or too deep in their cups to recognize each other. But for anyone with a discerning eye or ear, a mask provided no barrier at all.
Aubrey was reasonably certain Rhiannon could walk about with a sack over her head and he would still know her. She could hide in another room and the faintest strain of her husky voice would give her away. Even her scent lingering after she had gone would be sufficient—rose and bergamot with a hint of ambergris. He had taken note of everything where she was concerned.
Far too much.
But Aubrey didn’t dally with innocents. And he didn’t bed his good chum’s innocent sister. Not even a golden goddess who putVenus to shame and possessed a tendency to stare at him as if she wanted to devour him.Especiallynot her.
Wilt, cock,he inwardly urged that unruly appendage. Wilt.
“For…titillation,” she repeated, her eyes narrowing, as if she didn’t believe him.
Christ.He should not explain himself to Whit’s little sister. And Aubrey most assuredly should not allow his gaze to slip to her decolletage or to wonder if a hasty tug of her pink silk bodice would release her equally pink nipples.
He clenched his jaw, fighting for inner composure for a moment. “Yes, titillation, my lady. You see, some prefer the pretense they do not know their lovers. For them, it heightens the pleasure. Others may fear repercussions with husbands, wives, or polite society should word of their transgressions reach the gossipmongers. They cling to their masks for fear of discovery. Either way, no one is fooling anyone else. Least of all, you.”
Rhiannon blinked, her full lips parting, the lower caught by white, even teeth. “Me? Forgive me if I fail to believe your bluster, sir. You claim to know who I am, and yet you have yet to say my name. Perhaps you’ve mistaken me for another. Either way, I can assure you that you haven’t the right to pull me bodily from the drawing room and lock me up inside this room with you.”
She had the audacity to punctuate her diatribe by holding out her hand, palm up. “The key, if you please.”
Aubrey reached up to his own mask, untying it and pulling it away from his face. “On that, I fear we must disagree, Lady Rhiannon. I haveeveryright to keep you here, safe, in this room. Your brother would expect no less from me, and when I inform him of your presence here, I have no doubt he’ll send you back to London and your mama where you belong. The reckoning for you will be harsh, I’m sure.”
Her shoulders sagged, and the defeat in her jaw and eyes made something within him clench. “How did you know?”
I would know you anywhere, he thought before tamping down all such ridiculous notions.
Aubrey shrugged again, one shoulder only this time. “As I said, brat. Masks mean nothing. Did you not recognize me?”
“Of course I did.”
He raised an imperious brow. “Well, then. Why should the reverse be any different?”
“Because you don’t notice me. You never have. You don’t even know I’malive, and now you have seized my one and only adventure and seek to ruin it utterly.”
How wrong she was. Hedidnotice her. From the moment she’d become a woman, making her curtsy, flitting about ballrooms, he had been irritatingly aware of her. Not just her beauty, but her stubborn nature, her ludicrous bravado, her laughter, her smile.
Fucking hell.He had to stop this maudlin nonsense at once.
“I notice what happens here, within these walls,” he said smoothly, because lying was far more comfortable than speaking plain truth. “As one of the founding members of the club, doing so is my duty. And as your brother’s close and enduring friend, it is also my obligation to take note when his naïve, wayward sister somehow manages to all but ruin herself. To step in before it’s too late.”
She scowled, the pink mask she wore which matched her gown so perfectly still in place and obstructing his view of her lovely face.
Which was for the best, really.
The mask was silly.
Lady Rhiannon Northwick was anything but. Therein lay the danger. To him, to her, to everyone who mattered.
“I am not your obligation or anyone else’s,” she snapped at him, planting her hands on her nipped waist. “And nor am I naïve or wayward. I am simply in search of a future of my own, to experience life as I choose.”
A bitter laugh tore from him. “My dear little naif, there is no future at all to be found at these fêtes. Not for you. Nor for anyone else. These house parties are intended for sin the likes of which a virginal miss such as yourself cannot possibly fathom.”
It was the wrong thing to say to a stubborn hoyden, as it turned out. Lady Rhiannon Northwick couldn’t resist a challenge. He recognized that in her—so much of himself when he had been younger, before darkness had consumed him.
Her irresistible, dented chin went up. “I can fathom a great deal, Your Grace.”
