Page 76 of Of Socialites and Prizefights

“You must be Deepa’s beau,” Roz said, stepping forward to offer her hand. “I’m Roz.”

“A pleasure,” he replied neutrally, glancing back and forth between them as he connected the dots of Deepa’s curse-breaking. If Roz’s grip was overly firm, he didn’t show it.

“I hear marriage isn’t in the cards for you two,” Roz said, still holding onto him as she watched his face. “A shame.”

“Yes, most unfortunate,” he replied, his gaze flickering to Deepa’s new ring. His expression betrayed nothing. “I expect I’ll be congratulating Miss Patel on her engagement long before I secure my own.”

Satisfied, Roz nodded and let him go.

“Now that I think we all understand each other, where does this leave you and I?” he asked of Deepa. “If you find yourself otherwise engaged—” His gaze cut to Roz for a second before returning— “Then of course I understand if you shouldn't want to accompany me to any further events.”

Roz gave Deepa a gentle nudge. “Whatever you want, love. I won’t stop you.”

“You won’t be jealous, staying up worrying that the Earl of Hertford is going to steal me away?” Deepa teased.

“I don’t think that’s much of a concern, no,” Roz allowed with a laugh. “Now that I’ve met him, you two have got my blessing to go out and spread as many rumours as you like.”

“Much obliged,” Appleton said dryly. “As a matter of fact, if you are interested in moving forward, I was reconsidering your marriage proposal.” He held up one hand before Roz had the chance to bristle. “As I said earlier, my family would never approve, and I don't mean to step on any toes. But I thought a long, drawn-out engagement might serve our mutual purposes just as well. As tedious as I find these endless social outings, I can't deny that you’ve reshaped my reputation in remarkably short order. So, if you would enjoy some job security for the next eight to twelve months, this is a conversation we might pursue in the near future.”

Eight to twelve months of posing as Appleton’s fiancée would net her a very tidy sum, especially if she had her nights back and could return to her regular sets at The Songbird. She stole a glance at Roz, gauging her reaction.

“Yeah?” Roz asked, squeezing her waist where she held her. “You want to?”

“Yes,” Deepa said emphatically. “As long as you don’t mind.”

With a smile, Roz kissed her cheek, and Deepa leaned into it, glowing. “Whatever you need to do, I’m behind you as long as you’re mine.”

“Now,” said Appleton, with a genteel little cough, “may I be of any assistance in dealing with that Mr. Etonborough? Assuming you haven’t already alerted the authorities.”

“I didn’t think they’d be leaping over themselves to help, given my situation,” Deepa pointed out.

He inclined his head. “Quite right. Seeing as I have somewhat more sway in those particular circles, I would be happy to take him off your hands without requiring any further involvement on your part.”

“And do what with him, exactly?” Roz asked.

“He won’t see the inside of a prison without a long and messy trial, requiring Deepa’s participation, which I foresee a marginal chance of winning, with public opinion being what it is. That being said, I have family who work high up in the branches of government dealing with magical regulations, and I imagine they would be quite keen to impress on him the gravity of his actions.”

“And I wouldn’t have to get involved?” Deepa asked.

“My word against his will more than suffice,” Appleton replied carelessly, as if that weren't a terrifying prospect.

“Then yes, do that. I have no interest in a drawn-out legal battle. I don’t much care about the particulars of his punishment, so long as he never comes near me again.”

“I assure you, he will not.”

“I say!” Phillip blustered over to them, a handkerchief clamped firmly over his nose. “I say, Appleton. Are you talking about me? Because I've got a side of the story you'll want to hear.”

“I sincerely doubt that,” said Appleton, “but come. You and I are leaving.”

“I have a mind to press charges, you know,” Phillip said, glaring at Roz and Deepa from eyes that were beginning to nicelyblacken. “People like you can't just hit men like me without consequence.”

“They can't, but I think you’ll find I can,” said Appleton impatiently, gesturing towards the exit.

Phillip failed to take the hint. “I won't forget about this,” he warned Roz, finger raised imperiously. “If you think you can just break a fellow's nose—”

“I’ll break more than that,” snapped Deepa, putting herself in between him and Roz. In the dim club lights, her eyes flashed green-gold like a cat’s in the dark, and Phillip was so hasty in his attempted retreat that he stumbled over his own feet and put himself on the floor again.

“Your eyes,” Appleton began.

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