“The skating you already know about, but we’ll also appoint a Lord of Misrule to liven up proceedings and we’ll go wassailing in the orchard.”
Livvy raised her brows, intrigued. “Wassailing? I’ve heard of it, but never actually done it.”
“It’s an ancient rite to wake the apple trees, scare off evil spirits, and ensure a good harvest in the autumn.” His long fingers twisted the stem of his wineglass. “The word "wassail" comes from the old English‘waes hael," meaning ‘be in good health". He raised his glass to her and sent her a jaunty toast before taking a sip. “The traditional reply is ‘drinc hael’– ‘drink well.’
“Drinc hael” Livvy echoed, lifting her own glass. Dev’s eyes lingered on her mouth again, and when she used her tongue to lick a drop of wine from her lower lip, a muscle ticked in his jaw, and a wicked thrill of heady triumph filled her. Was this how sultry, sophisticated courtesans felt? Powerful enough to make a man like Devlin beg? It was a heady sensation.
“It sounds exciting,” she murmured.
“Oh, it is. It’s a night where anything could happen. A night of infinite promise.”
Anticipation hummed in her veins at his soft, suggestive tone. “You mentioned it being a masked ball, though. I don’t have anything to wear.”
“Never fear, Cinderella,” he said lightly. “I’ve arranged for something.”
The wicked glint in his eyes gave her a moment of disquiet. He must know how improper it was for him to be selecting gowns on her behalf.
“Another dress of Daisy’s?” she asked hopefully.
“No. This one’s just for you. I’ve taken the liberty of ordering something from Daisy’s favorite dressmaker, Madame Lefèvre.”
Livvy couldn’t hide her shock. “But . . . how can you possibly know my size?”
His expression hinted that he’d spent a serious amount of time considering every inch of her. Her traitorous heart fluttered.
“It was easy. I wrote to Daisy yesterday and asked her to her take one of your dresses from your apartment over to Madame to use as a guide.”
Livvy blinked. “But the ball’s the day after tomorrow. There’s no way she can make an entire dress by then.”
The corners of his eyes crinkled. “It’s amazing what’s possible when a duke offers enough money to buy an entire shop full of dresses.” His smile widened at her appalled expression, but before she could scold him for spending money on her he raised his brow and said, “And besides, for the costume I’ve ordered, there’s not much fabric to deal with at all.”
She sucked in a scandalized breath. “What kind of costume is it? I won’t wear it if it’s indecent.”
He chuckled. “There’ll be enough fabric to cover the most interesting parts of you, I’m sure. And besides, it’s going to be a masked ball, remember? Nobody will know it’s you. Except for me, of course.” He sent her another mock toast. “I can’t wait to see you in it.”
Livvy didn’t press him on it further; she’d wait and see what outrageous garment he’d ordered before deciding whether to wear it or not.
The rest of dinner passed with surprising ease. Devlin seemed determined to make her feel relaxed in his company, and despite the constant tug of attraction that arced between them, she found herself enjoying herself.
The conversation ranged from the last plays they’d both seen at the theatre, the latest gossip from town, and even touched on her father’s disgrace. Perhaps it was the second glass of excellent wine that Dev poured her, or the fact that he was basically unshockable, but Olivia felt as if she could tell him anything.
Anything about her father, that was; her own feelings were something else entirely.
“I think he first went into debt in an effort to impress the King,” she sighed. “Back when he was still the Prince Regent. Prinny said he’d be coming for a week’s visit, so father ordered a complete redecoration of the manor, including new furniture, all in the Egyptian style, because he knew Prinny admired it. The cost of that alone was over five thousand pounds. And knowing how much the prince liked to eat and drink, he ordered a huge amount of food and wine. He planned to put on a lavish banquet every night, only to have the prince change his mind and only stay foronenight, because he decided to go and visit his new mistress instead.”
Dev shook his head. “Entertaining royalty is hideously expensive. And trying to stay in their good graces is even more so. Especially when they’re as flighty and unreliable as the King.”
“It’s a miracle he never ended up in debtor’s prison,” she said.
“And a pity he didn’t just leave England and go hide out on the continent, like Beau Brummell did a few years ago.” Dev added. “You could have been spared a great deal of unpleasantness.”
Livvy managed a dismissive shrug. “What’s done is done. He’s gone now, and I can move forward, at least.”
Dev held his glass aloft. “To a happier future, then.” He drained the last of his wine.
Liv nodded and repeated his toast, but added a silent question;would a happier future for herinclude him?
Chapter Eleven
