“The devil’s schemes. It’s the only explanation.” That earned me a smile and another shoulder bump.
I considered for a moment, before deciding to get the next bit out of the way so she could be off. Then I could nurse my disappointment in silence.
“Wayland and Ainsley are clients of mine. It’s good for business. And my friend’s sister is dragging him about to every single lady within until one agrees to wed him. I’m moral support, I suppose.”
“A tradesman? I am intrigued. What do you do?” Her gaze was thoughtful as she eyed me.
“Really?” I asked, incredulity seeping into my tone. “I expected that to send you running back inside.”
“You did not answer my question. And I’m still here.” Low and provocative, her voice was so different from the childlike ramblings ofher.
This lady’s accent was slightly stiff, formal, as if it were an affectation.Interesting.
“Isn’t that the point of a masquerade? The mystery.”
“Evasive,” she pointed out. “Not my favorite quality in a man. Still, I’ll allow it. Until midnight.” The scold was brief, airy, and there was no heat behind it.
“I’m an open book. What do you wish to know?”
“Your occupation, sir.”
“Your guess, first,” I retorted.
She straightened, half turning to face me. Her gaze dipped to begin at my toes before sliding up my legs, then to my waist. There was a tightening in my breeches due entirely to her scrutiny and I could only pray it wasn’t evident in the dim light.
Her preoccupation was an opportunity to study her as well. She was thin but her arms and shoulders were muscular. She carried herself with strength too. Clearly she had other interests outside of those usually afforded to ladies.
She was as small as I’d thought, and I had a few inches on her.
Light spilled through the doors and window catching in her curls. Up close, I noted the gold strands were tamed with amethyst pins. Swirls of honey, caramel, sand, and ice, mixed to form golden, champagne ribbons.
The skin of her neck and chest looked velvety soft and my fingers itched to brush across it.
Her lower lip was just slightly fuller than the upper and it was quirked in a half smile. And her eyes awaited mine. They were more olive for the dim lighting.
She was amused. That was clear from her expression and I felt the blush forming, but there was nothing to be done for it. Besides, she ogled me first.
“Solicitor.”
My brow lifted of its own volition, impressed. “I must know how you found me out.”
“A lady must have her secrets, sir.”
“What if I guess one of yours?”
“Be my guest. Only your best shot, of course.” She could not possibly suspect my military service. Not from just this.
The desire to impress her welled within me. She had danced with at least two gentlemen, so she was likely unwed. Her countenance was lived in. She was no newly presented debutant. That left her as an independently wealthy lady or a widow ofmeans. While I was generally socially inept, even I knew not to mention deceased husbands when flirting.
“Do you acquiesce?” She questioned, offering me my answer. Something about the way her lips pursed forming the word…
“You’re French.”
“Remarkable,” she confirmed.
“How did you know my profession?”
She smirked, mischievous behind her mask. “I hope you will not consider it outside the bounds of gameplay. You mentioned your friend’s sister was dragging him about, matchmaking. That could be none other than Lady Grayson. The matchmaker is always my dearest Kate. Which made your friend her brother, Lord Leighton, whom I know to be a solicitor. While I had already supposed solicitor, I also noticed that you have ink in your nail beds. It was a safe guess.”
