Page 21 of A Lady of Means
“Me?What about an army captain seeking out an elusive debutante at two very different balls in one evening?Now there’s a tale.”
He said his next words low enough that only she could hear them.“I think, my lady, the more interesting tale I have to tell starts with finally getting to hold you in my arms after thinking about it for an entire year.”
Her eyes closed briefly, savoring his words and his nearness.She was vaguely aware of the music ending, of dancers applauding.They were likely too intoxicated to notice she didn’t clap; she was intoxicated on something else entirely.Someone.
Not just someone.Devyn.Moria had lauded herself for being sensible, she’d lost her head to a boy before who clouded all objectivity and reason until the clouds parted and revealed how very solidly he’d deceived her.But Devyn was a man.
There was only raw honesty painted on his face when he looked back at her, only genuine affection when his voice caressed her ear to ask, “Would you like to dance again or would you like to talk?”
Her gloved fingers touched the side of his neck near her mouth as she whispered in his ear, “I would love to talk.Just give me a few minutes.”
“Moria.”
She heard her name at her back and knew who it was.
“Fitzwilliam Pomfrey,” she said through gritted teeth, turning toward her brother-in-law.Fitz had always been one of the tallest men she knew, but he was still more than a head shorter and much less broad than the captain.The two men made quite a stark contrast as they stared at one another.Devyn was the first to introduce himself, Fitz followed suit but the keen amusement and curiosity on his face was telling.
“Captain Winter and I were–”
“Already acquainted before this evening, I gather?”Fitz said, a dimple pulling at his cheek.His ocean-blue eyes were rife with amusement.She was sure her sister would be hearing about this.Somehow the thought was…comforting?
Before she could speak, Fitz held up a hand.“Save your lies, Moria, I won’t tell a soul.Just stay out of trouble and don’t force my hand, alright?”but there was a soft note to his voice.He was her friend, there was a goodness in the young, blonde viscount that understood the weight of secrets and pride in a way that not every man of his station did.
He turned to Devyn, sticking out a hand.“Captain,” he said with a firm shake, “I’m better with a sword or a pistol than I look, so no compromising my sister-in-law on my wife’s rather delicate furniture, I’d hate to call you out.”And with a dramatic flourish he was gone.
A laugh bubbled up from Devyn’s chest.“That was your infamous brother-in-law?This ball’s host?”
Moria put a hand over her mouth to stifle a laugh.“I’m afraid that is indeed the Viscount Ludlowe.”
“Rather disappointed in him for leaving you alone with a scoundrel like me,” he said, taking a step closer to her.They were not alone, they were still in a crowded ballroom in one of Mayfair’s most coveted parties.
“We aren’t nearly alone enough,” Moria said, immediately biting her lip and squeezing her eyes shut at how forward she sounded.But somehow, he could find her in a crowded room and she’d watch it all burn down just to have him all to herself.
ChapterNine
D,
I’ve never seen you at a ball, and you’ve never seen me at a ball.Maybe a time or two, I envision the hand at my waist is yours.Maybe I envision the eyes looking down at me are like a starry night, like yours.If you don’t know, fortunes and reputations are made on a single dance.And no one dances better than me.
Lady M
* * *
My Lady of the willow tree,
Naturally.No one dances better than a goddess.But to whose tune are you dancing?
D
* * *
D-
I’ve danced to them all.I think I might like to try yours.At least once.
M
* * *
