Yara had styled her hair in an elegant coiffure, but she had plucked a few tendrils free to frame her face. She preferred the softer look it gave her features. She knew she could be intense and it had become habit to seek out ways of deceptively covering her harsher nature. She was not normally reduced to a blushing, self-conscious maiden.
But then Devin noticed her and her knees wobbled most annoyingly. Because his disquiet sneer transformed into a darker, more seductive grin once he spotted her. His eyes traced an unabashed trail up her body and his tongue licked absently at the corner of his lip, drawing her eyes and electrifying what had already been a potent moment. Miranda was not worldly. All she knew of desire and intimacy she learned through Lydia’s fascination with research, the two of them passing books and even some illustrations in secret. But his eyes had her longing for things she couldn’t define and a very base, impulsive part of her wanted him to teach her.
“Miss Wilde,” he said with a slight bow. “It’s a pleasure to see you this evening.” His grin was slanted with mischief. He was attempting to play it off like she hadn’t asked him here so they could spy on their host. He feigned casual poorly, and there was no mistaking his focus on her for anything less than lust.
He reached out for her hand, snagging it before she could protest and gently pressed his lips to her skin. The sensation flared up her arm like a wave, vibrating through her.
“If I’m going to play the part,” he offered as he straightened. Her fingers slipped from his, lifeless and buzzing.
Miranda was rendered speechless. Behind them, the ball continued. Graves was here. They should focus on the task at hand. She should not be spending much too long staring at Drake like the only thing keeping them apart was sheer, barely restrained willpower.
Drake stood straighter, his eyes narrowed playfully. “Please don’t tell me this is your first ball, Miss Wilde. I was hoping to follow your lead.”
She shook her head, rattling the stupor from her brain. If she didn’t get ahold of herself, this whole plan would fall apart. Miranda took in a deep breath and then released it slowly. She could do this. She just needed to remind herself that he was annoying and not at all interested in someone like her, not really. He liked riling her up, but he wasn’t serious. Not with someone like her. Someone non-adventurous. With no experience. From her sort of family.
“No, of course not. It’s…” she cleared her throat. “I’ve done this plenty of times.”
“And surely I’m not the first gentleman to kiss your hand,” He said, eyebrows moving suggestively. “Or am I just the first to make you blush?”
Andthatsnapped her out of it. Leave it to Devin Drake to turn a romantic moment into one of exasperation. And he knew what he was doing when he kissed her hand, the cad. “Don’t flatter yourself, it’s just hot in here,” she said.
Drake pulled at his cravat. “I can’t argue there, it’s bloody stifling in these clothes.”
“In a few minutes the dancing will start and a lot of the focus will be here,” Miranda started, “Graves will be expected on the floor, mingling with guests. We should be able to slip away at that point and find his office.”
She made a few sweeps of the ballroom with her eyes, noting the layout and various exits. They were on the ground floor, but there was no telling how large this place truly was from the front. Not to mention if he had installed secret passages or rooms.
“He’ll have guards throughout the estate.” Drake sipped his drink to hide his words.
He did his own sweep of the room, keeping his body slightly turned so they didn’t look to be in conversation. Though, Miranda found it hard to pretend that he wasn’t still making her body tingle and antsy with tension. It was harder to imagine the whole room wouldn’t notice all the tiny ways her body responded to simply being close to him.
Damn it. She was supposed to be above this. He certainly hadn’t been this distracting before…but then, she also hadn’t had contact with him in several days. She’d sent the invitation and a note, but dared not risk more and he hadn’t attempted to contact her either. The days of waiting, with nothing productive to occupy her, she had unintentionally crafted silly fantasies involving Drake. Where she could take out her frustration and aggression on his person with fists or a weapon, but always eventually devolving into smoldering glances, hands brushing over her clothes, or even heated kisses that she could only imagine from pictures, rather than practice.
Excitement buzzed in her muscles and it was difficult to hide the restless fidgeting in her limbs as they conspired in secret. Devin kept his voice low, so that only she would hear him, the smooth cadence of his voice erupting in shivers up her spine.
“Graves is not an idiot and he knows he has lots of enemies, he’ll not fill his home with people and leave valuable information unwatched.”
The quartet shifted into the next piece. Couples flocked to the floor and into position, floating through steps drilled into them since birth. All eyes were on the dancers. Miranda’s mother would be looking for her now, dragging a bachelor in tow to trap Miranda into a dance.
“Let’s go,” Miranda whispered and she scanned for her mother and Graves as she skirted the crowd for an exit. She was so distracted she nearly walked into a gaggle of gossiping aunts. A cloud of perfume smacked her in the face, each thick floral scent battling for dominance as the most garish.
“Oh, my dear, how lovely to see you again.”
“How’s your parents?”
“Are you very excited for your sister? Marriage is so wonderful. Graves is a great match.”
Miranda smiled and nodded along, desperate not to be entangled by social etiquette and failing. She barely knew these people, only two of them she could recall by name. Yet they were relentless, barraging her with comments and questions and leaving no room to answer as they talked over themselves. She realized too late that she had lost Devin somewhere.
“I…”
“Don’t worry, dear, I’m sure you’ll get your own proposal…your sister’s match will do wonders for your prospects. A connection to Alderman Graves can only improve your chances.”
“Yes, you’re not out of the running just yet. At twenty-three you’re not quite over the hill.”
“It certainly isn’t your face that keeps them away, dear.”
Now they were disguising their cruelty as pity. How very noble. And she was twenty-six, three years past her expiration date. Her mind spun as she tried to find an excuse to get aroundthem. The last thing she needed was to upset elderly widows with little to occupy their time who would delight in drawing attention to even the smallest display of impropriety.
