Page 14 of A Lady of Means (Roses and Rakes #1)

Chapter Ten

If you weren’t at the second most exclusive ball in London last night, I’ll tell you: it was not one but two ladies in a fox mask that stole all hearts on offer. Perhaps…even a Duke’s?

-Scandalous Lives of London scandal sheet

* * *

When Moria rejoined the masquerade, it was Carina in a matching fox mask, similar dress, with brown hair instead of Moria’s blonde, that brought her back down to earth.

The gratification of feeling Devyn’s lips against her own after so long pining in secret, had almost carried her away.

She’d been moments away from letting Devyn take her in her sister’s library.

She’d been so close to telling him about Marcus, about his tragic death that had been the loss of a dream and the start of a new one. And about the loss that came after.

She hoped her friend only saw the masks she’d used to cover over it all.

“Dear god, there’s two of you.” Valentine interrupted her thoughts, placing Moria’s hand through the crook of his arm.

He straightened her mask and adjusted the cuff of her sleeve without a word, but she read something in his eyes.

She didn’t think he had seen her disappear (or reappear) with Devyn, but Valentine was observant. And apparently discreet.

“And somehow you aren’t lucky enough to secure the affections of either of us,” Carina parried.

It sounded so much like something Moria would have said, while looking so much like her. Why did Carina want to imitate her? Why would anyone? Was she easy to imitate, and therefore easy to replace?

“What about me? Am I lucky enough?”

Carina, on Moria’s other side, turned toward the voice, pulling Moria with her.

It was some friend of Valentine’s that Moria would once have been enthralled by, wanting to know his name and particulars, but now that she’d come so close to a man like Devyn, this one seemed…

wanting. She’d leave him to Carina; a widow could do practically anything she pleased.

And Carina seemed very pleased with the sight of this one.

Valentine’s companion gestured toward the open doorway of the lavish game room Pomfrey House boasted, several heads and pairs of eyes turning when the two ladies entered.

“Billiards, ladies?”

Moria pasted on her usual smile and said, “Of course, I’m sure you’re looking for a redemption round since I trounced you last time. Wouldn’t count on it though.”

Moria sank a ball into the pocket, surrounded by men of high status and rank.

They were all looking at her like they were on a hunt, and she was the prey.

Rather the reverse was true, less so now than ever as her heart was thumping over her…

overtures…in another room with a man she’d shared her secrets with.

She supposed he had reversed their roles by seeking her out, asking to court her, turning up at not one but two balls on the same night to seek her out in public.

Even without all of those things, he was… .

“Your shot,” Carina interrupted her thoughts with her words and a soft nudge of her hips. Moria expended little effort sending Carina’s next lover’s ball into a pocket a second time.

“Marry me,” one lordling with an artfully mussed head of bronze hair spoke.

Moria laughed, taking a step away to retrieve the pool chalk from Valentine. “You’d never be faithful to me, Weller.”

“You’re after fidelity, then?” a friend of Moria’s brother Lawrence called. Moria had more than enough on her mind to worry over one of her five siblings, when he was just as capable of getting himself out of any trouble as he was getting into it.

“Of course,” Moria said, absently dusting her pool stick with chalk.

“Romance, then?” This from Valentine. She noticed the raised brow and smirk he gave her. He was definitely remembering Devyn from earlier.

“I’d like to not be made a fool of,” Moria made another shot that sent Valentine’s askew. She noticed their eyes all drift to her cleavage when she leaned over the table for her turn.

“I’d never make a fool of you, my lady.” Valentine’s handsome friend parried as he attempted to recover from the sound beating she was delivering him and Valentine on the billiards table.

“No, you excel at making a fool of yourself,” the dark-haired man standing next to Valentine added.

“What else, my lady?” she’d lost track of who was speaking this time. Did it matter? None of them were going to marry or ruin her anyway.

“Someone who makes me laugh.”

Carina gave a little “ha” and said, “Lord Bowlby is quite a joke, my lady. And rich.”

Moria made a show of grimacing in a way that was still attractive. “Too old. And I’ve no need for money anyway with my dowry.”

“What else?” Valentine pushed, as he often did.

“Someone strong.” Moria said it with a casual shoulder shrug, but she was remembering the effortless way Devyn had handled her earlier. These dandies before her didn’t have the bulk or size of a warrior. It hadn’t been so noticeable before, but it was hard to ignore now.

Carina raised a champagne glass Moria assumed one of the men seeking her attention must have retrieved for her. “If you find a man like that, I’d like a crack at him myself. He sounds keen.”

“He have to be titled, then?” The Duke of Andover called from the doorway, hands folded over his sculpted chest. He was masked too, but not hard to identify. He was a duke, what did he have to hide?

Moria glanced at Carina’s open-mouthed stare and the group of gentlemen around the billiards table that had stopped their movements. The irony of his words made Moria purse her lips and look off to the side, mock pensive.

Moria was thinking of Devyn when she said, “I suppose it depends on the title, or the man.”

His Grace nodded, taking the pool stick from Valentine.

Belatedly, she noticed his wavy hair was artfully mussed, and Moria saw what looked like a bruise on his neck.

Given what she’d been doing with Devyn, she didn’t have a right to be as curious about who had put that mark on him, who had mussed his hair.

“In that case, consider your game over, Lady Fox,” His Grace said as he lined up his shot, sinking two of her balls in one pocket.

When he locked eyes with Moria, her mouth went a little dry, she tightened her hold on her pool stick.

She didn’t like this feeling, like wishing she could stand in two places at once, not one bit.

She merely smiled at the Duke and the other men before her. “It’s over when I say it’s over, Your Grace,” she said, making another successful shot. When she looked up, Valentine gave her a knowing wink.