Page 28 of She Tempts the Duke
Mary knew that Ladies Hermione and Victoria would not be pleased that they’d not been invited, but she suspected their enthusiasm for the lords would overwhelm them.
“He informed me this afternoon,” her aunt continued, “that I am to keep a close watch over you and ensure that you do not speak with them overmuch.”
“He fears Fitzwilliam will not tolerate my renewing an old friendship.”
“He is no doubt correct on that score.”
Their conversation was interrupted as the final chords resounded and Alicia stood. Polite applause quickly followed.
Alicia curtsied. “Thank you so much. Now if the young people will join me in the parlor for some games.”
Charades no doubt. Mary absolutely abhorred the game. She’d avoid it if she could. Unfortunately, Fitzwilliam adored it. He returned from the terrace, smelling pleasantly of tobacco and offered her his arm.
“One moment,” she said to him, and walked over to where Sebastian and his brothers remained standing. She smiled at them. “The invitation to the parlor was meant for you as well. You are, after all, young people.”
“Funny, I don’t feel young,” Rafe said.
She understood his emotion. He was two years her junior, but she didn’t feel young either. “But you are. Come along. It’ll be fun.”
“We should probably thank your aunt for her hospitality and take our leave,” Sebastian said.
“Not yet. My cousin will be so disappointed.” She would be disappointed. And Mary wasn’t certain why she herself so desperately wished them to stay. “Just a while longer.”
“I suppose no harm can come of it,” Tristan said.
“None whatsoever,” she assured him.
Chapter 9
Mary suddenly found herself wishing for charades, no matter that she was horrible at it. She’d never quite seen the humor in the game Alicia chose: “Questions.” They all sat in a circle. Sixteen people. She hadn’t meant to place herself between Fitzwilliam and Sebastian. It had simply happened that as they’d taken their chairs so they had ended up in the same area. Each of them held a card with a unique number on it. In the center of the circle was a stack of cards.
The game was simple. Someone posed a question, turned over a card, and the person with the corresponding number had to claim the question.
“I’ll begin,” Alicia said. “Who is the silliest person in the room?” She turned over a card bearing the number three and glanced around. No one responded, and Mary had her first sense that this game was not going to go well at all.
Alicia frowned. “Who has the number three?”
“I do,” Tristan said.
She scoffed. “You’re supposed to put your card down and say, ‘I am the silliest person in the room.’ ”
“But I’m not.”
“Doesn’t matter. You see, that’s what makes it funny. The question doesn’t apply to the person who answers, and therefore, it makes us laugh. Now you ask a question and draw a card.”
“Any question?” he asked with a devilish glint in his eye.
“Any question.”
Tristan lowered his gaze into a sultry invitation that Mary could not help but believe had lured many a woman into his bed. “Who does not wear undergarments beneath her skirts?”
One lady gasped, a couple tittered, and Alicia smiled broadly. “That’s the spirit.”
He reached out and turned over a card. Five.
“That would be me,” Fitzwilliam said, clearly irritated as he tossed his card on the table.
Tristan grinned. “I should have known you’d fancy wearing a skirt now and then, Fitzwilliam. Do you don a corset as well?”
