Lady Bassett gasped, as did several of the onlookers. Who, Max noted, drew nearer so as not to miss a word.
He judged it was time to intervene.
“In fact, Lady Bassett, if I may be permitted to add my mite to this—er—conversation, Miss Ridlington has not yet decided whether to become my mistress.” He smiled as the most outrageous idea flashed into his brain.
Kitty was staring at him, her expression blank. Then she noticed his smile. And, to his utter amazement, she gave him the tiniest nod.
He took a leap of faith. “She will be making the decision shortly, based on the turn of a card.” He glanced around. “Gentlemen, if you would care to place a wager on the outcome, we will be in the card room within the hour.”
The music had stopped, and for a full five seconds, there was dead silence. Then the gentlemen faded away, their footsteps revealing the stampede to the card room, while the ladies fanned themselves and the soft chatter of shocked gossip began.
Kitty turned to Max. “The turn of a card?”
“You wanted to be the shocking Miss Ridlington, didn’t you?”
“Yes, but…” she swallowed, “I wasn’t expecting it quite so soon.”
He walked her away to the quietest corner he could find, aware that they were the cynosure of all eyes and that word of his statement was spreading throughout the masquerade. “Do you want me to scotch this, Kitty? I can do it, you know.”
There was that little lift of the chin again, amusing him. She met his gaze squarely. “I should say yes. I should run a mile and then jump into a carriage, drive to Scotland and spend the rest of my life raising sheep.” Her bodice rose and fell on her rapid breaths. “But since I have no idea how to raise sheep, I don’t like haggis and I couldn’t run a mile in these slippers, then all I can say is…I accept your wager.”
Somewhere deep inside Max’s brain a little voice cheered. “You will be my mistress?”
“You will give me pleasure?”
Aroused and secretly thrilled at her response, Max nodded. “More than you can imagine.”
“Then I have nothing to lose.” She glanced around. “The Ridlington name has one more blot on it. But it has survived much worse.” She blinked. “I really should find Hecate, Max.”
“After we’ve drawn our cards, we’ll find her and make plans from there.”
To his surprise, this evening was turning out to be exciting, challenging and arousing. None of which he’d expected when donning his domino for yet another masquerade.
Miss Kitty Ridlington had proven to be a catalyst of sorts for him; from now on he was going to keep her closer than close. Soon he would introduce her tohisworld of pleasure.
Unless he lost the wager.
He snorted. That wouldnothappen.
*~~*~~*
Excusing herself briefly, Kitty sought sanctuary in the ladies withdrawing-room. She needed a moment’s respite from the stares, glares and whispers behind the fans.
She’d desired this, she reminded herself. Now nobody would ever ignore her again.
But the full magnitude of her fall from grace became obvious when one or two women walked in, saw her, and left again.
Did it hurt? She asked herself as she rinsed her hands in cool water and splashed a little on her face.
Perhaps.
But the young maid smiled as she offered dry cloths and Kitty allowed her to straighten the bow at the back of the gown. “There you are, Ma’am. Pretty as a picture.”
“Thank you.” Kitty smiled back. “Are you tired? You have to be here until everyone has left, don’t you?”
“Yes, Ma’am,” the girl curtseyed. “But it’s me job. So best not to complain.”
“Well done.” Kitty paused. She needed to do something to remind herself that real people cared not one whit about reputations, wagers, or mistresses. So she unclasped the small bracelet she wore. It was a trifle, lavender glass intertwined in metallic scrolls, and worth very little.
