Page 2 of Summoner of Sins

Max had to confess the man was doing a decent job tonight. Usually, the Master of Games acted as if life was one big game. But tonight, he sounded more like Keeper or Emperor. “Have been training for this moment, Lord Maxwell is going to draw our enemy out so that we may strike.”

The Master of Games stood, flipping his coin into the center of the table. It was a symbol of participation and the other men about the table did the same, adding their coins to the pile.

“Lord Maxwell is putting his life on the line to protect us. We shall do our best to protect him.”

A murmur of agreement rumbled through the group. Max stood too, tossing his coin on the top of the pile.

This was the only fraternity he’d ever truly known. He was all in…

CHAPTER ONE

Lady Sophie Wren tapped her toe as she watched the dancers twirl by. She had not yet been asked, but she held out hope that she’d fill at least one spot on her dance card.

But hope was far different than reality.

First, she had little experience in such things, having only recently been brought into her uncle’s house after the death of her mother. Her small village had not prepared her for London’s social scene. Second, her uncle had done little to introduce her to the finer world, and his acquaintances were of the roughest sort. It was so odd for the son of an earl. Third, her gown for the evening was borrowed. And though she’d thought it pretty, she could see it was a different sort from what the other women wore.

They were all pale, while hers was dark, and then there were the numbers of ribbons, bows, and fripperies that adorned their clothing. She was certain her uncle hadn’t considered current fashion when he’d chosen the gown. She hadn’t asked where it had come from, but it had taken some work to get the scent of cheap perfume from the fabric.

Sophie has been in the care of her uncle for less than a year. It was not so long that she felt truly comfortable, but long enough she’d learned its rhythm.

A fair number of unsavory men came through the house, but as per her uncle’s wishes, she retired to her room at seven every evening and bolted the door. It was odd at first, but now she’d grown accustomed to the practice.

The noise was a different matter. She still found the yelling, cursing, and loud banging upsetting. But in those moments, she’d hold Abigail and soothe her little sister, and herself, until they both fell asleep. Sophie never complained about the noise, however. She felt fortunate her uncle had taken her in at all. She and Abigail had food, warmth, a roof, and clothing.

At the age of twenty, however, she’s been wondering if she’d ever get to make a match of her own. She’d hinted to her uncle but said nothing more. She was fortunate to have him, and she did not wish to upset the balance they’d found. Still, it had been such a treat when he’d informed her that he was taking her out tonight to Lord Maxwell’s latest ball.

A nanny had been hired for Abigail, and Sophie had set off on this adventure. And by adventure, she’d spent most of the evening leaning against the wall. But even watching the dancers, and listening to the music, felt like a rare treat.

A couple of women walked by, hardly noticing her by the wall. “Have you caught sight of Lord Maxwell?”

“No, but I’m so curious. I hear he’s handsome.”

“Did you hear that he doesn’t speak? Ever. So odd…”

They kept going, and Sophie was no longer able to hear what they said. She’d like to have participated. It would be so nice to find someone to talk to and maybe have that single dance. If she could make either of those happen, she’d consider tonight a success.

Uncle Allister was engaged in conversation several feet away. He wasn’t much for making conversation with her normally. They rarely spoke, but tonight, he paid even less attention to her than normal. He stood with a group of men, their heads bent together. She could not hear what was said, but she did note that several of the men wore clothes not unlike her own.

By that, she did not mean they wore dresses. They did wear clothes that did not quite fit in this setting. It was the way their cravats were tied. Or the style of their shoes or…

She snapped her attention back to the dancers, trying not to focus on all the reasons she shouldn’t be successful tonight. If she were going to make something of this evening, she’d have to leave this one spot next to a potted fern and…mingle.

With that in mind, she set out, intent upon seeing the room from a different angle and perhaps, visiting the ladies’ repose. She might hear something of interest or even participate in a conversation in a smaller, quieter environment. She moved slowly, savoring the experience, until she saw a small group of women make their way down a quiet hall. Surely, that was the way to the repose.

Following, she entered a spacious room where lounges had been set about with ladies resting on them as others adjusted the pins of their hair in a large mirror. Smiling, she draped herself across an empty lounge, her attention turning to the group she’d followed.

“And would you believe that dress Miss Poppy is wearing? Dreadful.” A beautiful blonde in pale pink satin patted her perfectly coiffed curls.

“I know,” a delicate brunette responded. “She thinks that her father’s money will buy her social standing. But no merchant’s daughter is going to be in the inner circle…”

Sophie ducked her head. These women were not likely to be her friends, and she instinctively understood that being caught staring might incite their ire.

“Smart,” a girl next to her whispered. “They are vipers in disguise. You should not make eye contact.”

Sophie looked to her left to see a pretty woman in a perfect pale green silk gown lounging next to her. She had all the markers of one of the vipers. So why was she talking to Sophie? “What makes them vipers?” she whispered back, leaning closer before glancing over quickly to make certain she hadn’t been heard.

“Oh, they look sweet and innocent, but they collectively cut the rest of us to ribbons with their words.” She gave Sophie a friendly smile. “I’m Lady Tabetha, but my friends call me Tabbie.”

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