“Indeed. My congratulations to you, sir,” Lord Carlisle says. But if he means to congratulate me, his face is unaware—every line is too taut, his gaze sharp. “I hope your luck holds, though I shan’t be here to see it.”
At that, the butler appears at his back, His Lordship’s coat held out in his hands.
Without taking his eyes off me, Lord Carlisle rises and allows the butler to help him into the garment.
Suddenly, an idea strikes me. “You did not have an arrangement with the lady, my lord? Surely you would have said.”
When his eyes flash, I know my instinct is correct. “No. No arrangement.” Though his tone is soft and befitting a gentleman, the way he glares at me is not.
He has likely wanted the lady for himself, and perhaps soon intended to try to come to an agreement with her father.I do not allow it to trouble me. Nothing can trouble me at present.
Lord Carlisle bids us goodnight, and Baron Sumtner does the same shortly thereafter. He bows to His Majesty, and then to me—an ironic sweeping bend. After which, all the gentlemenappear to wish to depart and file out, some in pairs, some singly. No matter how they leave, there is the distinct absence of the usual parting conversation. Every man seems struck silent by the game’s outcome.
I myself am quite at a loss for words. This moment is one that I fantasized about as a boy—even when I was young, I knew it for what it was: a flight of fancy. Impossible. And yet… my lord father who sired a bastard off his mistress had seen fit to have his son educated as well as money would allow. Through his efforts, I will marry far better than he ever dreamed.
And when I bed the Lady Freya, I shall rid myself of her enchantment at last.
Neither of us speak until we are alone, save for the servants.
“You may have made an enemy this night,” the Prince observes.
I shrug. “In this world, a man cannot strive to make a name for himself without amassing enemies.”
The Prince’s brow furrows thoughtfully. “Perhaps you are right.”
“Do you have enemies, Your Highness?”
His lips quirk into a smile. “What an impertinent question. I begin to wonder if I sit across from one.”
I chuckle and observe His Highness carefully, relieved to see he is pleased for me. “I trust you did not stack the cards to assist me?”
He lets out an ungentlemanly snort. “Indeed, no. I will be hearing the lords’ displeasure ringing through the streets for many a fortnight as it is, and you won honestly. Can you imagine if I had been a cheat in the bargain?” He shakes his head. “You are a friend dear to my heart, Gregor, and I love you, but I do not hate myself.”
I join my own laughter to his, excitement thrilling through me. Not only will I have the object of my ardent desire, once thesparkle of that jewel has worn off, I will have the finer lifestyle to console me that will allow me to afford a mistress should the desire strike me.
“I feel I must inquire: why the Lady Denham?”
A flippant answer leaps to my lips, and I nearly give voice to it, but a look at His Highness’s face makes me speak the truth. “I have felt deeply for some time for the lady. Ever since I first saw her, in fact.”
I can recall the day with the utmost clarity, though it happened nearly a year ago. I had received an invitation to a party—a pity invite, I suppose, or perhaps they needed more men present for dancing. I had turned up merely for the free food and drink, and had been in the midst of filling my plate when the Lady Freya had stepped into the room.
At the first glimpse of her—her dark head, her fair skin, her bewitching eyes… I was entranced in a way I have never experienced. Indeed, that has never been spoken of by any gentleman as far as I am aware.
Surprise arrests my friend’s features. “Truly? I did not know you to be given to romantic notions, Greyonyx.”
I shake my head. “Rest assured, I have no such fancies. I cannot explain it, truly.”
What I say to the Prince is true. That entire evening, I was scarcely able to draw my eyes from her. I found myself aware of every movement—when she went to join the rest of the Beau Monde upon the dance floor. Not one to join in such things myself, I somehow came to find myself on the edge of the party. It was as though my feet had somehow wrested control from my brain, and I had quite forgotten I possessed the knowledge, but not the grace for dancing.
I could not tear my eyes from the vision she made on the dance floor with her quick, elegant steps in perfect time to the music. Still in some trance she cast, I circled the room, farenough away so as to not attract her notice, yet close enough to hear the melodic sound of her voice. The lilting tinkle of her laugh made my breeches grow tight.
“It certainlysoundslike romantic notions,” Prince James observes when I share the tale with him.
“Surely not,” I deny at once.
“Forgive me for saying so, but one encounter where you watched a lady hardly seems cause for going to such extremes.” He gestures to the card table. “You have embarrassed your Crown Prince, and for what? To bed a lady you shall soon tire of?” He laughs.
“You are merely afraid of what your family will say.”
