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“No?” She raised her brows.

“No. What I find annoying is your poor judgment when it comes to things you think you want to experience and your complete disregard for warnings from people who possess the experience you lack.”

Placing her hands flat on the table, Beatrice leaned forward with interest. “Instead of simply being annoyed, why won’t you tell me more about it?”

“About what?” He waggled his brows. “What men do with a wench all night?”

Her cheeks heated, and the heat spread lower in her body. “That’s not quite what I meant. I want to hear more about London – the forbidden places and hidden secrets that I might never get to experience, all because you’re determined to leave me after crossing off just three items from my list, rushing through them in the most efficient way possible.”

“I keep my word,” he said and took a gulp of ale. “Therefore, if you still want to continue with your list after we cross off the three items I pick out, I shall help you with the rest.”

“I am not so certain I want the rest.” Now she felt just as annoyed as he always looked. In turn, that smug smirk appeared on his face again.

“Well, that’s your business.”

“No, it’s not! Or at least, it shouldn’t be. You offered to help me with my list, instead, you’re not satisfying my curiosity and managing to ruin my excitement. I wasn’t even able to enjoy the Hades’ masquerade properly.”

“That’s not my fault,” he countered and took another swig of ale. “You couldn’t see anything with a mask on, and there was no way you were roaming about that place unmasked.”

“You could have let me dance a little more,” she offered.

He shrugged. “What would be the point if you couldn’t see anything, anyway?”

A frustrated breath blew out of her lungs. “You’re insufferable.”

He raised a brow. “Seems like you’ve met your perfect match.”

Chapter 5

Maybe it was the effects of the alcohol playing with Beatrice’s mind, but the more they sat at the pub, the more Adam seemed to let his guard down. His cheeks were rosy, and his deep blue—almost violet—eyes glittered, with sparkling specks of ale on his lips.

Beatrice noticed for the first time that he had beautiful lips. They were firm, yet soft-looking, with a fuller lower lip that held an enticing curve. In contrast, his upper lip commanded attention with its sharp edges and precise angles, adding a touch of daring to his overall allure. But it wasn’t just his lips; he was full of contradictions.

His dark hair lay in perfect waves, except for one unruly lock that curled on his forehead as if signaling that he wasn’t all right and proper. His cold blue eyes promised nonchalance, yet his straight aristocratic nose had a bump on the bridge, hinting that it might have been broken, perhaps more than once. His chiseled jawline was exquisitely defined, accentuated by a subtle shadow of stubble that added a rugged charm to his otherwise polished appearance.

Even when he spoke, whether in a controlled manner or with lazy indifference, Beatrice could feel that he was hiding something deep inside. Perhaps passion?

No, not for her. But for life. She would have loved to believe it, however improbable. One couldn’t tell when observing him buttoned up with a cravat tied tightly around his neck, but in the dim light of the public house, in commoner’s clothing with a button undone at the top of his shirt, brazenly showcasing the strong column of his neck, he seemed more approachable and relaxed.

So, Beatrice decided to ask something she’d been curious about for a while. “What if you made a similar list to mine…”

He snorted. “It wouldn’t be similar.”

“Yes, you’re oh, so worldly, I know. But what if you wrote a list of things you wanted to do in this life before you got married? What would they be?”

The smirk on his face slowly faded as his expression shadowed. He looked at her with such intensity that Beatrice had the urge to squirm under his perusal. But as intense as his gaze was, it wasn’t concentrated on her. It was as if he was looking through her.

Finally, he shook his head. “I am going to be completely honest with you and tell you something I have never told anyone before.”

Beatrice shifted to the edge of her seat and leaned forward eagerly.

Adam’s eyes twinkled in the candlelight, and a wistful smile curved his lips as he said, “I don’t know.”

Beatrice frowned. “You don’t know?”

“No. Absolutely no idea. I am three and thirty, and I have no dreams, no purpose, no direction in life.” His voice was a little slurred, and she wondered if he was drunk.

“Surely, you must be exaggerating.”