Page 11 of Unmasking a Wicked Marquess
Juliet gasped at that look. Never could she remember being looked at in such a way before. Once again, it was as if he were tongue-tied, unable to say a word as he stared at her.
“Permit me to hazard a guess,” she whispered. “Is it the odd eyes that have performed this magic?” She gestured to him with the cloth she had just used to mop up her spilt drink.
“Odd? Well, I would not have called them that. There are a number of things that have now rendered me speechless, but it seems as if every single one of them hardly flatter me; let us start again.” He turned to face her fully and offered his hand. “It is a pleasure to meet you.”
He didn’t say his name. Curiosity burned within Juliet to know who this masked man was. His dark hair, wild and very short, with just a few loose curls about his ears was tempting. She had an errant daydream about running her hands through those curls, wondering what it would be like. His eyes, beyond a mask as black as his suit, were an almost shocking blue, so bright it was as if she stared at a morning sky.
“And you,” she whispered, giving him her hand. As was customary, he bowed to her, bending over their hands, which were now softly clasped together. His fingers, curling softly around her own, didn’t release her at once, and neither did Juliet pull back from him. She was all too aware as he bowed to her that he held her gaze, never once looking away.
She took in as much of his face as she could judge beyond that mask. There was a strong jawline and the tiniest bit of black stubble. Most men in the room were clean-shaven, but the rather more rugged appearance beneath that black mask, the informality of it, had her mouth dry.
He stood straight, and they continued to stare at one another, neither of them saying anything for a minute or so.
“Well, do you think we have completed our impression of soundless statues for the night?” he asked her, his words breaking her inability to speak. She laughed and shook her head.
“I think so. Shall we put it down to the effect of the masks, do you think?”
“We could say that or something else entirely.” He still hadn’t released her hand, and they just stood there together, holding hands in the most uncustomary way, though still, she didn’t pull back. There was a warmth in that touch, a softness that seemed to contrast the keenness of his stare so much that she didn’t know what to make of him. “You said you were escaping someone when you bumped into me?”
“I was.” She glanced over her shoulder again, rather glad to see that the man who had been persistently trying to ask her to dance had at last given up. “I am afraid I was quite desperate for an escape.”
“Then allow me to offer you another.” He shifted his hand from hers and travelled it up her wrist. The delicate brush of his fingers on her gloved wrist made her tremble with a sort of thrill she had not known before. He opened the dance card, slung loosely around her hand, and angled his head, looking at the lines written within.
“No partner for the next dance?” he asked, his voice soft. “Care to allow me to fill that space?” He moved his hand to hers again, soft, giving her every chance to escape if she wished to.
Wordlessly, she nodded and allowed him to escort her away.
They moved from the drinks table through the crowds and towards the main dance floor, where they waited for the last dancers to finish their cotillion. All left the floor, and new people took their places, with the pair of them included. They moved to the very middle, where the masked gentleman turned to face her with a small smile lifting his features.
“I should mention,” he whispered, bending so close to her that she could practically feel his lips brushing her ear.
What is happening?
She swallowed, struggling to get past the perpetual dryness in her throat.
“It has been some years since I have danced in the ton, for I have been travelling. I may not remember all the steps.”
“Then I am privileged indeed,” she whispered playfully. “Your first dance on your return? And I treated you so awfully by throwing a drink at you.”
He laughed warmly. Before they could say any more to one another, the music began.
He stepped back, the distance between them increasing enough to allow them to bow and curtsy to one another. The whole time, Juliet felt his eyes upon her as if he couldn’t bear to look away. When she stood straight from her curtsy, she heard the opening notes of a quadrille. The music consisted of deep low notes, the violins and bass struck with great fervour as the dramatic piece filled the ballroom air.
Walking towards one another, the pair circled each other, not a touch between them, though strangely, Juliet itched to hold his hand, for there to be some connection between them. They halted, having now switched places, and looked one another in the eye as the couple to her left now walked around them.
“We should probably have some conversation between us, should we not?” he whispered to her. “Otherwise, it seems you and I are likely to continue to stare at one another in such a way for this whole dance.”
She smiled indulgently, amused by his words.
“Yes, let’s talk,” she murmured as he took her hand and led her around the couple to her right. They changed places with the pair, his hand gentle on hers. “I could ask you about your travels, and we could have a real conversation, or perhaps you prefer the normal platitudes of a ball?”
“Go on,” he urged, his smile growing once more.
“Well, I believe it’s customary for one of us to talk of the weather. I’ll then comment on how hot it is in here tonight, and you shall say something about there being too many couples. Indeed, we could spend an entire dance with such … uninteresting conversation,” she said as he took both her hands. He led her around him, and they changed places one more before they came together, standing so close that Juliet’s breath felt stolen from her body.
“Or …” he whispered, encouraging her on.
“Or we could talk of something real.” She watched as his blue eyes lit up beyond the dark covering of his mask. “Where did you travel to, sir? Are you glad to be back? Or do you wish at this moment you were back somewhere far from here?”
