“If that were true you would not have run from that ballroom as if the tail of your coat had caught aflame,” Sean said and Alex got the sense that as usual, his friend was not going to give up.
Closing his eyes, he inhaled deeply before he looked Sean in the eye and said, “She is the daughter of the Earl of Monrith.”
Sean's laughter was unbridled. It was quite clear he found the situation utterly amusing.
Alex's mood darkened. “I do not think you gauge the seriousness of this situation.”
“Oh, Alex, all you did was dance with her!” Sean exclaimed. He clapped one hand down on his knee while wiping a happy tear from his eye with the other. “It is not as if you have married the girl.”
“I do not mix business with pleasure,” Alex growled through his gritted teeth.
At that, Sean's face dropped. He looked Alex deep in the eye and said, “She pleasured you?”
His mouth fell open, and it was entirely to clear to Alex what his friend was imagining.
“Do not think of her that way!” Alex snapped, aiming a blow at his friend's knee with his own. Sean moved his leg out of his path just in time.
Alex only wished he could kick himself for his own thoughts on the woman were immoral, indecent, depraved. If the skin of her body was as soft and creamy as her face appeared to be, then she was an exquisite treat indeed.
“Well, my friend, it appears she has quite gotten under your skin,” Sean said, pulling Alex from his awful thoughts. “I do believe you would like to see her in nothing but hers.”
Alex's gaze shot to Sean's again. “As I said, I do not mix business with pleasure.”
Sean scoffed at that. The cocky way with which he met Alex’s gaze made him want to swipe the smirk right off his face.
“Alex, you are the devil lord. You quite literally run a club that is fueled by pleasure. And that lady was even more beautiful than ten of those women at the lair put together.”
“Don't!” Alex snarled. He treated his working girls with the utmost respect, reminding himself that though he hated exploiting them to make ends meet, their lives were much better under his care than many of the pimps and madams of London’s back alleys.
Still, he couldn't bear to imagine Lady Moreau as one of them, no matter how much he would have liked to get under her skirts.
“Stop!” he ordered though he had been yelling at himself more than his friend.
It was only when he opened his eyes again that he even realized he had closed them. He glowered at Sean and said, “My cloak and mask?”
“Under your seat, as always, Your Grace,” Sean said, gesturing as he spoke. Alex pulled out the black cloak and mask he donned whenever he walked the halls of the lair.
His act as the devil lord was perfected. He was smooth and cold as stone from the moment he put on that cloak and mask. And that was just what he needed right now.
But when he pulled the devil's disguise from beneath his seat, he paused and looked at them in his hands.
Could Lady Moreau ever love such a man?The thought came unbidden to his mind, quickly followed by another.Could she love the man beneath the mask?
She had been unlike any other young lady at the ball, outspoken and energetic, feisty and fiery, and unafraid of staring openly at his scars. The interest in her eyes had taken the sting out of her staring and he had almost felt as if her eyes were caressing away the ache in his old wounds.
No, he had to force all these thoughts away. They were not productive. They distracted him from his business. Lady Moreau was too good for the likes of him. Hell, the lowliest lady of the night was too good for the likes of him.
He donned the mask and cloak as the carriage drew to a halt outside the club.
“Sean, let's make sure that tonight is an extra profitable night,” he said, lifting his head high, looking at his friend through the mask. Tonight of all nights, he needed to have a successful one. Maybe then he might distract himself fromherand the orange blossom scent of her golden-brown hair.
Chapter 5
A week had passed since the Beaufort Ball and without any further information on the India shipment, Emmaline grew more and more anxious by the day.
The tension in the house was growing. She could feel it all too well. Her elder brothers spent much more time away from the house, taking to their lodgings in the row or whichever tavern they had chosen to drink in that night. Emmaline thought them entirely foolish. Though once or twice they brought news that they had won a small fortune between friends playing cards, Emmaline was almost certain they drank more than they had won.
And even her younger siblings seemed to be picking up on the mood in the house, crying more often and refusing to play no matter how fun the game.
