“Um…yes.” Sally took the mask and settled it over her eyes.
It tilted haphazardly on her face, and Maxey bit her lower lip to hold back an embarrassed groan.
Ignatius chuckled, his deep voice sending ripples of warmth over Maxey. She shifted on the ground, preparing to stand, and he took her hand, helping her up. As she had not yet put on her mask, she decided to introduce herself, since there wasn’t anyone around to make proper introductions.
“My name is Miss Maxey Harring, and this is Miss Sally Smithers.”
The Wentworth brother bowed. “Good evening, ladies. I am Nash.”
“Nash?” Maxey asked warily. Was he the same man she searched for? He looked very similar to the man in the Wentworth painting. She curtsied and smiled. “It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”
“No, the pleasure is all mine.” His smile widened. “Have you been at this party long?”
Maxey shrugged. “Long enough to lose a mask.”
He laughed and shook his head. “I admire your quick humor.”
Her mind spun with possibilities. Ignatius must have changed his name. After all, if one was a murder suspect, one wouldn’t introduce himself as that person.
“You are most kind, Mr.…” She arched an eyebrow. “Nash? Just Nash?”
He nodded. “That is my stage name, and we are at a soirée for the opera, are we not?”
“Indeed.”
He held out his hand to Sally to help her stand but kept his focus on Maxey. “Will you permit me to escort you and your companion inside for a drink? I’m certain you both are in need of refreshment after such a grueling search for those ever-missing masks.”
She chuckled. “Indeed. Those pesky things tend to disappear quite often.”
Sally took his hand, stood, and brushed her other hand over her attire to remove the broken twigs and leaves. Maxey swept her hand over her own gown and hair. Hopefully, she looked better than she felt.
So far, things had not gone her way, and it frustrated her. She needed to right the wrong, or else how could she stay in character? Having him know about her identity was not a good thing to do right now.
Nash offered his arm to Maxey. “Shall we?”
“Indeed she shall.” She slipped her hand around his elbow, and immediately his body heat radiated into her palm. Delightful shivers danced over her, and she silently cursed her reaction to the attractive man.
After they entered the side door leading into a parlor, a man dressed in servant’s clothing greeted them. The man’s skin tone looked as if he was in the sun most of his life, like Nash. With a nod from Nash, the manservant moved to the liquor tray and poured drinks. Sounds of the party drifted through a set of double doors on the far wall, but they were the only occupants of the room.
What were the odds that Nash had already consumed his share of alcohol? With the easygoing atmosphere, he would undoubtedly tell Maxey what she needed to know.
Staying in his gentlemanly character, Nash escorted her to the sofa. As she and Sally sat, he moved to his manservant and whispered something in his ear. Maxey wished she could hear what he said, especially why Nash had a gleam in his eyes as he looked her way.
In the light, Nash was more handsome than she could have imagined. With hair slightly longer than it was in the painting, Nash radiated masculinity. His broad shoulders and chest fit comfortably into his pearl-white silk shirt, gold cravat, and vest. Deep blue trousers molded very nicely to his long legs, and his black boots had been elegantly shined to perfection.
From the information Carolyn had given Maxey, Nash was a rogue and left a trail of broken hearts in his wake, which was how they’d found him. He was definitely a notorious scoundrel who could make any woman swoon.
Maxey sighed. Tonight would be difficult because of her silly infatuation with his singing voice and appearance. Try as she might, she could not deny the sudden attraction, but it was a while since she’d found any man this intense and handsome.
As he spoke to his manservant, Nash gazed across the room and again met her eyes. A humorous smile touched his scrumptiously shaped lips while he ran his finger over his black-as-midnight, well-groomed mustache. He whispered something to the servant before crossing the room, coming toward her.
Maxey held herself still, trying to stay in control. His towering frame stopped next to where she sat on the sofa. Deep chocolate eyes held her prisoner.
So far, Nash had proven to be a gentleman, very placid and charming. Still, she was leery that this might not be the right man. A glint sparkled in his soft eyes, promising Maxey his company would be a pure delight. Sadly, she couldn’t keep company with him unless he was Ignatius Burke.
He handed a drink to Maxey, one to Sally, and took one for himself. When the manservant left the room, Nash sat on the two-seater chair across from her. He ran his fingers over the stem of the glass, his eyes twinkling as he looked at her, almost as if he held some kind of secret.
She sipped her wine, hoping he didn’t suspect she had secrets of her own.
