Page 23 of A Lady of Means
“Was that absolutely necessary, Valentine?”The Viscount asked.
“Was what absolutely necessary?”
Devyn whipped around at the sound of Moria’s voice, having found their little assembly at last.
He drank her in like a dying man, stunned in the heart and vocal cords for a third time that same night at the sight of her.She’d freshened her appearance and her blonde coiffure while she’d been gone, as if she’d needed it.Didhemake her that nervous?Perhaps it was the fact that everyone was always looking at her, half to drink her in as he was doing, the other half to find fault.
Standing beside his chair, he brushed her fingers with his own.Her fingers singed his in return.He felt his cheeks heat like a schoolboy at the precise and intimate contact.If anyone noticed, they gave no indication.
Finally, he found his gift of speech.“Lord Ludlowe and Lord Valentine were just singing your praises.”
“You lie beautifully, Captain.I’d never believe such untruths of these two knaves.How many ways did they threaten you?”She turned her gaze to the other two men who were looking at her and the Captain with the avid fascination of two scheming mamas.
Casually, Moria popped a sweet into her mouth, and Devyn swallowed at the movement of her painted lips.
“I’d never dream of threatening a man of his brute strength,” Fitz chimed in.
“That might be the first time common sense prevailed for you,” said a feminine voice over Moria’s shoulder.She was joined by a woman with black hair in a dress so dark purple it was almost black.Devyn recognized her from the door, she’d been the one who’d accepted his note as collateral for entry.He couldn’t help but notice the way Ludlowe’s eyes lit with mischief as he roved the length of her body in a way that was entirely beneath a happily married man.
“Should have known you’d turn up at the first opportunity to make a jest at my expense.”Ludlowe parleyed.Devyn met Moria’s eyes, she was stifling a laugh behind her hand.
“May I join you?”the woman said, motioning to the open seat next to the Viscount.Devyn felt protective of the virtue of that burgundy damask settee.
“I’m afraid I was saving this seat for my wife,” Ludlowe answered with a debonair smile that Devyn had attempted on women before but never perfected to this degree.It was punctuated with a casual draping of his long arm on that innocent settee.
“Shall I go and find her?”the dark-haired woman answered astutely with a toss of her tousled dark curls.
Valentine groaned.“I can’t witness any more of this foreplay, I’m going to get another drink.”
Devyn met Moria’s eyes in confusion, surely her brother-in-law wasn’t flirting with another woman in front of her?Moria touched Devyn’s arm and whispered into his ear, “That’s Noelle, she’s in character.”He barely registered her words at the sight of her cleavage so close and her breath warm and sweet against his neck.
Devyn answered, “For the masquerade?”
He barely had three brain cells left with which to ponder her words; they’d all fled south to his groin.
Moria chomped on the sweet she was holding in her mouth and shook her head.“No, it’s a ruse.She’s a writer, that’s her character, Fitz is her publisher.Apparently, this is something they both…enjoy.”She said the last word with a toss of her champagne flute.
Devyn used this opening to his advantage.“And do you also…enjoy other personas?”
Devyn enjoyed that Moria was the one this time to choke on her champagne.
“Perhaps I do.”
And at her lowered tone, her unblinking gaze, he finally saw beneath her mask.All the Moria’s she inhabited.A dutiful sister.A sought-after debutante.A pretender holding on to all her masks.And most simply, A Woman asking to be cared for by A Man.
As Moria’s sister sat atop her brother-in-law’s knee, Devyn took Moria’s hand and led her out of the billiards room.When they rounded the top of a set of marble stairs, Moria pulled on his hand in the direction of an empty sitting room.The room behind a solid oak door was dark.
As soon as she shut the door behind him, she was on him like a scent in a matter of moments.Her gloved hand clutched greedily at the front of his shirt, her face indelibly close.His own hands removed her mask and then stole to her waist, one of them curling a fist around the fullness of her skirts.
“Did you come to claim your kiss?”Moria spoke the words so close to his mouth he could taste the lingering notes of champagne and sugar on her breath.Her fingers curled into his hair; he fought the urge to close his eyes as her nails scratched against his scalp.Christ.No woman had ever captivated him so fully with so little.
Just kiss her already, his body screamed.
On the other side of the door, there were voices.Moria let out a curse and hung her head at his shoulder.He tore his gaze away from the rapid rise and fall of her breasts against her dress, surely her nipples were hard from the way her dress must be scraping against her tender flesh.
She pulled away and turned to step around him.He stopped her, a hand at her wrist.“Stay.”
He tightened his hold on her hand, feeling her pulse leap under his touch.Her teeth were clinched but there was a flicker, then a glimmer of longing in her eyes, but she withstood it.
