Page 78 of The Sound of Seduction
Nothing out of the ordinary.
Yet, Stan’s heart flip-flopped like a bird trying to take flight for the first time as he searched for Wendy but couldn’t spot her among the guests.
Nick had promised they’d be there and yet Stan was restless with anticipation.
Voices hummed low, punctuated by bursts of laughter, and a quartet played softly from a side room, filling the air with a lilting waltz.
Violet turned her head slightly, her gaze wandering in quiet admiration. Stan tried to focus on the splendor as well, but his mind was elsewhere. He carefully scanned the crowd, searching for a familiar face—her face. Wendy. She wasn’t here. Or at least, if she was, she remained tucked away from view. Disappointment prickled beneath his skin, but he ignored it. Nick and Pippa weren’t visible either, suggesting they hadn’t arrived yet.
Lady Anna Ashford’s arrival pulled his attention forward. She stood poised under the chandelier, her gown a deep crimson that all but demanded attention. Thea stood beside her, the emerald of her dress accentuating her warm complexion. On Thea’s other side, Alex shifted slightly, casting an uneasy glance toward the growing crowd.
“Have you seen him yet?” Alex asked, tilting his head sideways.
List.
Stan’s heart sank.
“Who invited him?” Stan asked.
“Nobody,” Alex said as he offered his arm to their sister. “Stay close.”
Thea nodded with a regal gesture that was befitting of their mother, but Stan caught the flicker of fear in her gaze.
“It is time,” Lady Ashford said and led them to the grand ballroom. “May I present Princess Theodora…”
But Stan didn’t hear the rest of what Lady Ashford said. Her voice rose just enough to break through the muted noise of the ballroom, and Stan smiled at the guests respectfully as gazes turned in their direction.
He felt Thea’s grip tighten on his arm—a silent plea for safety as she clung to both him and Alex.
The weight of curious, speculative glances pressed on him, but he kept his expression steady.
A stir of movement to the left caught his attention. Andre approached with effortless charm, his genuine smile accompanied by a slight bow. He murmured something to Thea, and though Stan couldn’t catch the words, her warm response was unmistakable.
Then came another figure: List. His presence slithered into the scene like oil on water, where stagnation had no business moments ago. He wove through the cluster of attendees, his tailored coat cutting sharp lines against the candlelight.
“Baron von List,” Henry greeted, his voice measured, his brow just barely lifting as he stepped slightly in front of Violet, adopting a subtly defensive stance.
“Henry,” List replied with a bow that barely tipped at the waist, his smile too quick, his gaze too cold. “And you, Stan.” It was uncanny that List always demanded the correct form of address and yet consistently chose to disrespect others by calling both an earl and a prince by their first names.
Stan shook his head, and Langley squared his shoulders.
“It’s a surprise to see you here. I was unaware you were on the guest list,” Langley began.
“I didn’t need to be to honor the evening with my presence,” List retorted.
Langley quirked a brow in Stan’s direction and Stan returned the look with a measured one of his own.
“Perhaps,” Langley interjected, his tone as smooth as polished granite, “you would join me for a game of whist? It’s quieter there and far more private.”
List’s response came too quickly. “Ah, the great Langley, luring me away already? Shall we discuss how our last game ended—or should we not? Surely the good prince recalls it better than I—for I’ve been poisoned?” List turned his sharp gaze to him, voice lined faintly with menace. Stan stared back evenly, tension coiling in his gut.
Could poison even kill a viper like List or would it nurture his venomous smugness?
Langley’s eyes narrowed, and there was a pause heavy enough to silence a nearby murmur of voices. The air between them felt like a taut wire, drawn tight by the unexplained challenge in List’s words. “Have you had… enough?” List added, his smile sharp.
Stan flexed his fingers inside his gloves, the soft creak of the leather grounding him as he glanced at Langley. Confusion mingled with unmistakable suspicion. Whatever List played at, it would not fester here. Not tonight.
Alex’s posture stiffened first, alert and certain, before Stan turned his head to follow his brother’s gaze. A young woman stood before Alex, her hand extended like she meant to bridge a gap neither sibling seemed aware of until now. She touched Alex’s arm briefly, her movements tentative, almost shy. But then her expression shifted—a flicker of alarm or regret—andin moments, she turned sharply and walked away, her motions hurried, the crowd swallowing her up entirely.
