Page 212 of Ten Lords for the Holidays

One side of his mouth quirked up, and he glanced about the crowded room. “If you had to serve several hundred people, would you bring forth the best wine from your cellars?”

“I like to think that I would. But then, my family is not one to host large balls. They generally prefer quieter gatherings to a monstrous crush.”

“But you do not? You strike me as a quite sociable young lady.”

“Because I wear a red cloak and hood? That’s rather presumptuous, my lord.”

“Not at all.” He tilted his head, his eyes very blue behind the white fur of his mask. “You are an accomplished dancer, able to converse and waltz easily. You’re adept at wending your way through large crowds. And you are a charming companion.”

Eliana felt a blush rise.

“Thank you.” To cover her confusion—for normally such compliments did not unbalance her—she took a sip of mulled wine.

Then instantly regretted it, as sour citrus filled her mouth. She swallowed, trying not to cough. At least their host had added a bit of brandy, as was customary, and the liquor warmed the back of her throat.

Count Nikolai took a drink from his own glass, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed. He had a strong throat, and she liked the line of his jaw, what she could see of it behind the mask. She wondered what the rest of his features looked like, then an instant later scolded herself for such shallow musings.

The worth of a person was not in their looks, after all, but in their hearts and minds, in their conduct and humor.

She should know.

How many men had fallen in love with her, declaring she was their perfect muse, all because of her pretty face and smile? In fact, she felt increasingly sure that none of her suitors had cared to dig much below the surface to discover who Miss Eliana Banning truly was. Why bother, when she would look so well as a wife upon their arms?

Sometimes she wished she had not been born quite so cheerful and outgoing—not to mention pretty—but was instead more like her sister, whose quiet competence had carried her into a brilliant match.

“Why so pensive?” Count Nikolai asked. “I agree the wine is dreadful, but surely there is a cure for such a terrible taste.”

“I believe there’s a table with sweets at the other end of the room,” she said.

“I find our conversation sweeter still,” he said, then let out a short laugh. “You must forgive my flattery. It seems the wolf has been quite tamed by Mademoiselle Red.”

She blushed again, hoping her red silk mask concealed the reaction. Heavens, this wolfish lord made her feel like a starry-eyed debutante, not a young lady with two Seasons’ worth of flirtations behind her.

“I’m not sure what I would do with a pet wolf,” she said. “It’s probably better to set you free in the woods, instead.”

His eyes flashed. “Is it better to live tame and cared for, or free and lonely?”

The question pricked at her, echoing as it did her recent dissatisfactions.

“Can’t one have both freedom and contentment?” she asked.

“One might, but perhaps not in this society.” His voice had turned from teasing to thoughtful. “There are always expectations, as you know.”

Yes, she did. Every year she found herself more hemmed in by those expectations: to make an excellent match, to be a companionable wife, to remain cheerful and bright no matter her mood. To be the Eliana that society had branded her.

Who was she truly, outside of that cocoon? Who did she want to be? She feared that if she ran away to the woods to find out, she would die of exposure. Or loneliness.

Eliana shook herself and gave the count a wry smile. “I did not mean for our conversation to become quite so sober. Normally I’m more pleasant company, I assure you.”

He tilted his head, regarding her. “Sometimes the cover of anonymity allows us to speak the truth most clearly. You needn’t hide who you truly are, or what you feel.”

He was too perceptive, and her own thoughts were too muddled to speak clearly of.

“What are you hiding, Lord Nikolai?”

For a moment he said nothing, his pale blue eyes studying her intently. “At this moment, I am hiding only the fact that I would like to kiss you.”

She would have taken it as flirtation, except for the seriousness of his tone.

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