Page 32 of His Brazen Tart
Her friend looked radiant in a gown of peach satin overlayed with cream-colored gauze decorated with shimmering golden flowers. The colors enlivened her complexion and made her golden hair look brighter. Tonight was her first time appearing in public without the colors of half-mourning. It would seem Mary might finally be ready to start moving forward with her life. It was unfortunate that Joan couldn’t say the same. She felt as if she had ground to a standstill with no notion of which way to go next.
“Goodness, I haven’t danced in so long,” Mary panted between labored breaths. “I’ve grown quite dizzy.”
This time Joan’s smile was genuine as she watched Mary snap open her fan and put it to work beneath her flushed face. Seeing her friend spark back to life was the only bright spot in an otherwise dismal evening.
“Are you enjoying yourself?” she asked.
Mary grinned. “More than I have in years, I must admit. Though, it doesn’t seem as if you are having a good time.”
Joan winced, realizing that she was putting a damper on her friend’s first London ball in years. She might currently be miserable, but she ought to make a better effort for Mary’s sake.
“Nonsense,” she chirped, injecting false cheer into her voice. “You’re overheated. Let’s take a breath of fresh air on the terrace, and when we come back inside, we will dance with every man who asks us … until our feet are sore and blistered!”
Mary giggled as Joan looped an arm through hers, and together they edged along the perimeter of the crowd toward the doors leading out onto the terrace. They had nearly cleared the majority of the crush, when an acquaintance waylaid Mary, pulling her temporarily out of Joan’s grasp. She stepped aside to allow them the privacy to speak, when her gaze fell on another woman pushing her way through the crowd in her direction.
She scowled when she recognized Lady Hardwick. Piers’ former fiancée was as lovely as ever in a daring gown of navy-blue velvet, her bosom on proud display and her lips rouged. The marchioness smiled as she drew near, but Joan was in no mood for such games. Her arrangement with Piers might have ended badly, but Joan still disliked this woman for the way she had hurt him. He hadn’t told her everything, but his reaction to encountering her at the opera and the rumors surrounding their brief engagement were enough. All Joan needed to know was that this woman had tossed Piers over, which was likely why he was so difficult to get close to now.
“Mrs. Durbin!” Lady Hardwick exclaimed, her voice dripping with syrupy cheer. Joan could hear the venom underlying each word. “How lovely it is to see you again. I suppose Sir Piers must be in attendance tonight as well, as you have hardly been seen without him as of late.”
“I am not Piers’ keeper and he is not mine,” Joan replied coolly. “If he is in attendance this evening, it certainly isn’t as my escort.”
Joan knew for a fact that Piers wasn’t here tonight, as she had methodically inspected the face of every man to cross her path. She had been here for hours already and had yet to lay eyes on him.
“Ah,” the marchioness purred with a knowing look. “The flame of yourtendrehas burnt out, I see. It was only a matter of time. I do hope dear Piers wasn’t too disappointed. When last I saw him, he seemed quite hopeful that … well, it doesn’t really matter now, does it?”
Joan reacted without thinking when Lady Hardwick tried to breeze past her. She grasped the other woman’s arm before she could make her escape, then quickly masked the action with a wide smile and swipe at a blue velvet sleeve—as if she were fixing the lady’s gown.
“What the devil are you talking about?” she hissed, leaning closer to Lady Hardwick and lowering her voice. Her insides went cold as she grappled with what those cryptic words implied. When had Piers spoken with the marchioness? He hadn’t mentioned her since that night at the opera.
Lady Hardwick fixed her face into a mask of cool politeness for the benefit of those watching, and eased her arm out of Joan’s grasp. “Darling, it’s quite all right. I know how … discomfiting it can be when the people we allow into our inner circle forget their place. One would have thought Piers might have learned his lesson years ago, but … we both know he doesn’t belong here, amongus. I do not blame you for ending your association, for it was quite clear the man had begun to see you as his way into the higher echelons of society. Alas, no matter how vehemently he was warned, young Icarus still chose to fly too close to the sun. He was the cause of his own pain, in the end.”
Joan took a swift step to block the marchioness from trying to make another hasty escape. Heat seared her from the inside out, and she felt as if she would be sick. The cause of Piers’ odd behavior began to make itself clear as she glowered at the woman who had broken his heart. “You said you saw him recently? When?”
Lady Hardwick giggled. “A few weeks ago, I suppose. But you needn’t worry that I was after him when your back was turned. I do not make it a habit to return to a road I’ve already trod. Good evening, Mrs. Durbin.”
The marchioness sauntered away, leaving Joan grappling with her convoluted thoughts. All had seemed well between her and Piers until that fateful night at the Olympus club. She had hinted at Piers expressing hope concerning Joan. Could his past experience coupled with Lady Hardwick’s nasty words have caused him to pull away?
Joan glanced about to find Mary gone. Her head spun as she whirled, searching the crowd for her friend. Confusion and melancholy clouded her mind as she tried to make sense of what had happened a fortnight ago, what was happening now, and where she would go from here. She had to find Mary, who wasn’t usually so inconsiderate. Hopefully, her friend hadn’t become ill from being overheated.
She was brought up short at the sudden appearance of Piers, who pushed his way through the crush toward her. He was immaculately dressed and groomed, but the dark circles showed under his eyes and his mouth was drawn tight. He looked as ghastly as she felt.
Joan stood frozen in place as he bore down on her, unable to think or move or breathe. Lysandra’s revelations still swirled about her mind in a confusing vortex, while the sight of Piers reminded her of the poignant words he’d last spoken to her.
Because I was afraid…
“Joan,” he murmured once they were face to face. “I know you don’t want to see or talk to me, but I must … I need you to understand …”
He still seemed incapable of saying the words she so desperately wanted to hear, whether due to fear or their location in public, Joan wasn’t entirely certain.
Frustration roiled through her, and having had enough she blurted the first words that came to mind. “Do you love me?”
Piers flinched, looking taken aback. His lips moved around a string of uncharacteristic stammers before he forced out a response.
“Yes. Yes, I love you. I think I have for some time but couldn’t see it. Perhaps, I didn’twantto see it. But I couldn’t tell you for fear that you did not feel the same. I couldn’t bear it—”
“But you never asked,” she whispered with a shake of her head. Somehow, hearing him declare his love aloud only confused her further. It left a deep ache in her middle as she realized that love might not be enough. “You never gave me a chance to accept or reject your feelings. You … you just assumed.”
Piers sighed and ran a hand through his hair. They were beginning to draw stares, but Joan didn’t care. This matter was too important not to dispense with right now.
