Page 33 of The Duke's Vice

“Good evening,” he said with a bow. His eyes raked over her causing her hands to pull her cloak over her. Only she wasn’t wearing one.

The night was chilly, but his letter said nothing about a cloak and she didn’t want to disobey him on his first order.

Instead she folded her arms across her chest to stave off the chill in the air.

Graham clocked the movement and smiled. “No coat?”

She shuffled her feet. “You only listed the nightgown and the mask.”

“Good girl.” He purred.

His words heated her blood and she dropped her hands.

She took his offered hand as she stepped into the carriage.

Once the carriage took off towards their destination Beatrice finally took in the man sitting opposite of her.

He was dressed in his normal clothes, his cravat tucked neatly into his shirt and waist coat, with a lighter coat overtop. Other than the mask he wore he looked like he was going to any ordinary event thetonmay be holding.

She shivered. And she was in a nightgown.

“Where are we going?”

Graham tilted his head. “No questions.”

She scrunched her nose. “I thought that meant about what we were doing, not, where we would be going.”

He raised an eyebrow in reply. She knew it was a feeble excuse but the curiosity was too much for her.

“It’s just you’re fully dressed and I’m in a nightgown. As much as I wish to complete my list I do not wish to make a mockery of myself.”

She saw a shift in his eyes and crossed her fingers, hoping he would relay some piece of information to settle her nerves.

“Very well.” He acquiesced. “You’ve been wanting to attend one of the midnight parties on Water Street, have you not?”

Beatrice nodded.

Graham reached within his jacket and pulled out a thick piece of paper with gold embossed lettering on the front. “I have acquired you an invitation. Tonight we party with the revelers.”

She took the offered card stock and ran her fingers over top of the raised words.

“The Revelers are what the party hosts call themselves.” Graham offered. “It’s a group of people who get together to enjoy the… finer things in life without judgement or recourse.”

Beatrice’s eyes lifted to his at his tone. “How do you mean?”

A corner of Graham’s lips quirked up. “That, little mouse, you’ll have to wait for. You’ll understand when you get there.”

Just then the carriage pulled up to a familiar house. It was the same one she was turned away from.

She shifted in her seat when Graham’s hand came down on her thigh. Her eyes flew to his.

“Before we go, I have some rules for tonight.” His tone was serious and unrelenting.

Beatrice was about to groan. He already laid down rules. If he was going to add a rule with every outing would his help even be worth it?

“I’m serious Beatrice, we are not leaving this carriage until you agree. It is for your own safety.”

Beatrice’s rebuttal dried on her tongue. “My safety?”