Page 20 of A Lady of Means
Moria had attended them before, riveted that her bookish, quiet sister could transform into this different person altogether who conversed about art with great minds and was held in high esteem by other artists.Moria couldn’t fend off the pang of jealousy that Noelle had all this, including the love of her life, when everything Moria had touched turned to an empty, fleeting gold before it died.
She could never voice such feelings; instead she yawned behind her hand and Carina and Lady Gretchen laughed.Moria felt a little sick making her friends laugh at her sister’s expense, but the thought of vulnerability was worse.
Fitz was addressing the group, but Moria followed a head of dark hair towering over the others in her periphery.As he came into view, again, the tension in his jaw, the breadth of his shoulders, the raven’s wing depth of his dark eyes were familiar.He wasn’t wearing his red coat, or a mask, but a tailored set of fine evening clothes.The effect let her see all his unabashed beauty on display.Her gamble in coming tonight had not been in vain.She was itching to know how he’d gained entry.
Moria noticed other women notice him, eyes darting his way behind their masks and disguises.Kate grasped her hand to point in his direction.Moria didn’t hear what the other woman or any of her companions said as she’d already left them behind.
The very lines and shape of him was erotic.
Not that he seemed aware of any of that.There was a singular purpose in his movements as he searched the ballroom.
A woman stepped in his path, he moved out of her way.
All mine.Her heart seemed to echo his words at another very different ball earlier that evening.
Moria’s breath caught and her heart outran the pace of the music when he finally caught her eyes, held them.His tell was his eyes.The room descended into a level of heat and noise and madness, but it could have burned down and he’d not have taken his eyes from her face.
“Lady Fox,” he said, bending his frame to lean to her height, to her ear.
“Soldier,” she greeted.
“Yours to command,” he answered her greeting with a playful salute.
“You got my message, then?”
“You owed me a dance.”
“But how did you…” Her voice trailed off, but he picked up the thread.
“The dark-haired woman at the door,” he answered.“I gave her your note.”
Her sister.Dressed as Adelaide.Had she recognized Moria’s handwriting?
“Did you come for me earlier too?At the other ball?”
He took her in his arms, pulling her with him onto the dance floor.She eyed the dancers around them caught up in complicated patterns to a music that seemed to have no end, drunk on champagne that saw no limit.
“As I said,” His fingers twined with hers, his other hand wrapping at her waist.“You owed me a dance.”
“Are we not already?Dancing around one another?”she asked.He gifted her one questioning brow and a smile that tugged at the corner of his delicious lips.
Moria leaned into him, letting him guide her.She’d been afraid that a man so large and imposing would drag her around the dance floor clumsily stepping on her feet and tripping to the time of the music.But beyond a long and muscled form, he had an innate and instinctive grace she hadn’t anticipated.Questions tripped through her mind, she almost stumbled but he adjusted his pace and kept her on her feet.
“Something you want to say, Lady Fox?”he asked, that damn smile tugging at his lips again.Moria had never once had to resort to counting the time of the music in her head before, but she was doing it now.Dance had always been a performance, but with him it was something else entirely she couldn’t name.
“Where did you learn to dance, Captain?”
His gloved hands were so large and so warm.“I told you my father was the heir to an earldom, and my brother after him.Believe it or not, I attended lessons in deportment and elocution, and yes, dancing.I think it’s aided in my swordsmanship as well.”
The candelabra above his head shed iridescent light on his night-colored hair.
“You never fail to surprise.”
He let out a low laugh.“Not nearly as much as you, I should think.”
Moria was vaguely aware of people staring in their direction.She changed partners briefly and then was returned to Devyn.
She had to stifle the urge to close her eyes as their hands made contact again.Her mind conjured images of those hands on her skin, the places he could touch with those hands, with other parts of his body as well.Drat her corset, she couldn’t breathe.She’d gone from debauched and jaded debutante to wanting tobedebauched in a matter of moments.
