Page 7 of A Translation of Desire (The Brazen Curators #2)

R ose ran her hand along the light blue fabric of her dress that billowed around her.

This gown is beautiful , she begrudgingly admitted to herself.

The dressmaker had been right; the color highlighted her brownish-red curls and made the gold flecks in her eyes stand out.

Still, she wasn’t happy to be at a ball and was furious that her father slinked out of London, avoiding attending a single event.

He’d insisted it couldn’t be helped. He had a meeting in Northern England and would then head back to Syria.

She supposed she couldn’t blame him. While this had been her mother’s world, it hadn’t been her father’s. It wasn’t hers either. She grimaced as another young debutante glided by on her way to flutter her eyelashes at some lord.

“Are you enjoying yourself even a tiny bit?” Lisbeth asked while watching those on the dance floor. She was swathed in a silver dress, giving her an ethereal appearance.

It was odd spending time with Lisbeth in London.

The duchess was vastly different from the young woman she had been.

When she traveled with Rose’s family, she’d been boisterous and always smiling.

Lisbeth, now, while polite, emanated an icy reserve.

Rose wondered what experiences shaped her to become that way.

“I know this isn’t what you wanted, but maybe you will meet someone,” Lisbeth added.

Pushing her nosy thoughts away about Lisbeth, Rose snorted. The sound caused an older couple to stare at them. Lisbeth gave her a pointed look before turning to them. “Hello, Lord and Lady Holland.”

They smiled back at the duchess. The power of her old frenemy amazed Rose. “I’m sorry, duchess. Your reputation this Season is going to take a hit. I have no training to be in London society, and I’m the oldest never-been-married lady here.”

A quiet laugh escaped Lisbeth. “Nonsense. I’m a duchess.”

“I’m not sure if that is confidence or cockiness.”

Shocking Rose, Lisbeth winked at her. “A little of both. Plus, you aren’t the oldest, never-been-married lady here. That title goes to Lady Harriet. She can’t be a day under seventy.”

Rose studied the woman. She seemed asleep, standing up and leaning forward slightly. Hopefully, she didn’t topple over. A giggle escaped Rose, causing Lisbeth to join her.

“You look stunning,” Lisbeth said.

Rose blushed, uncomfortable with being singled out for her appearance. She’d spent most of the last ten years in trousers and with her hair under a hat.

“Not as stunning as you,” she said, returning the compliment.

Lisbeth rolled her eyes. “Trust me, you have caused a stir.”

“I hope no one asks me to dance because I’m awful at it. Thomas tried to teach me, but he wasn’t very good either.”

“Dancing was always my favorite part of balls when I was a young debutante,” Lisbeth said.

Rose didn’t realize she’d attended society events before she’d run off with Thomas. Lisbeth smiled knowingly at her. “Yes, I went to balls. Not many. And I was the person who taught Thomas to dance.”

Rose’s eyes widened. Lisbeth grinned smugly. “I do agree he is a lousy dancer.”

Another giggle erupted from her. Lisbeth smiled, shaking her head. “Enough about all that. I think I spotted some acquaintances I should speak with across the room. Would you like to join me for a stroll?”

Rose shook her head. “No. I think I will step out for a moment. I need some fresh air.”

Lisbeth frowned. “Don’t go too far.”

“I will be fine. I can take care of myself,” Rose said.

The duchess rolled her eyes. “I have no doubt. Still, please don’t wander too far. The rules here in London are different.”

“I promise I will behave,” Rose said sarcastically.

“I’m warning you for your own good. London has the worst gossipers who love to discover scandals around every corner.”

“Thank you.”

Lisbeth squeezed her hand, surprising her.

“Our hosts tonight, the Duke of Sinclair and his mother, are collectors of antiquities. I believe the duke has recently acquired a new statue, which is located in the main hallway. Stay within sight of others. I won’t have your reputation damaged before we’ve even started. ”

“I will,” Rose mumbled as she departed.

She shivered with excitement as she entered the wide hallway.

What was wrong with her? Who became excited by cold stone?

Rose spotted the gleaming statue at the end of the corridor.

It beckoned her. It depicted a man preparing to strike a blow with his sword.

She moved closer to the lovely piece, but a light from an open door distracted her. She gasped.

Rose stepped through the doorway, admiring the carved stone that represented Alcyone and Ceyx locked in a passionate embrace. She sighed, remembering when she, Thomas, and her father found it on a little island in the Mediterranean.

“Hello, my old friends. It has been so long.” She traced along the cool surface.

“Do you often talk to statues?” someone asked from across the room, startling Rose.

She spun around and discovered a man with piercing blue eyes lounging by a window. Rose scowled. “Do you often hide in rooms that don’t belong to you? I doubt the owner of this home would care for it.”

A wide, wolfish smile appeared on his face, making him look like Ceyx himself. The man pushed off the wall and walked towards her. Rose should leave, but for some reason, she didn’t want him to think she was intimidated easily.

“I happen to be acquainted with the duke. I don’t think he will mind, but the same could also be said about you. I’m not sure he would like a lady touching his antiquities.”

Rose snorted. “I doubt the duke knows who is represented in this statue?”

She often found wealthy merchants and lords who purchased artifacts liked to brag about their value but lacked any fundamental knowledge about the items they owned.

“Enlighten me, since you appear to be an expert. Who is it?” the man asked, folding his arms across his expansive chest.

Why was she staring at his chest? Goodness, he was sinfully handsome. Rose needed to return to the ballroom. “I must go.”

As she reached the door, the man chuckled. “It’s fine if you don’t know.”

Rose froze, anger welling up in her. How dare he insinuate she lacked the proper knowledge to explain who the statue represented.

She, her father, and Thomas had discovered the stone carving they were debating.

She spun back around and stomped back to the man.

He smiled at her, amused his taunt brought her back.

“The statue represents Alcyone and Ceyx before they angered the gods. They were considered the most beautiful couple, but they grew conceited and began to pretend they were gods themselves.

The man’s eyes widened in surprise. Rose smirked back at him, delighted she’d shocked him.

“There is also an inscription explaining who they are.” She pointed at the base.

The man squatted to look, and Rose joined him. He gently ran a large hand along the inscription. For a moment, she was mesmerized and absurdly wondered what his hands would feel like.

He cleared his throat, and she snapped her attention back to his face. He intently studied her. What was she doing? Rose attempted to stand up and leave but stumbled backward onto her bottom. “Bloody hell.”

The man chuckled. Rose frowned. “Can you help me?”

He reached down and hauled her up, holding her by her forearms. For a moment, their bodies almost touched. They stared at each other, and warmth shot through her. Embarrassed, she pulled away. “I must go.”

She reached the door, and he asked, “What does the inscription say?”

Rose stopped and turned back. “The lovers passionately played at being gods, angering the true gods. Still—”

“Still the gods admired their passion and allowed them to live on forever as kingfishers,” the man finished.

He had known what it said all along.

“Your Grace?” a man in servant’s attire asked from the hallway.

Rose stared at him incredulously. He was the duke hosting the ball! He sighed, looking back at her. “I think it’s best if you return to the ballroom before anyone discovers you are here with me.”

If she were discovered with him, there would be a scandal. Her face filled with horror, and his eyes widened. “You look terrified.”

Rose grimaced. “I’m sure this is lovely, but I… you… this… wouldn’t work.”

Silence hung between them, and then, shocking her, he burst out laughing. Rose blushed furiously and fled. She stopped at the ballroom entrance, glancing back down the hallway. The man stepped out of the room containing the Alcyone and Ceyx statue. She gulped. How had she not known he was the duke?

*

Augustus sat at the Den, enjoying a brandy.

His mind wandered back to the curious lady he met at his mother’s ball earlier in the evening.

Who was she, and how had she known so much about one of his favorite artifacts?

Unfamiliar emotions stirred within him. Interest and curiosity.

Yes, he desired plenty of women, but this felt different.

He’d been tempted to ask around about her, but as a duke, that would kick off a swirl of gossip.

The lady was undoubtedly tempting with her thick brownish-red hair, freckles, and sun-kissed skin.

Yet, that wasn’t what intrigued him. Her assertiveness and knowledge of his beloved statue fascinated Augustus.

He could also admit that her complete lack of interest in his title amused him.

She’d appeared horrified that she might be caught in a compromising position with a duke.

Lord Jude, an obnoxious ton gossiper, plopped down in the wingback chair across from him. “Good evening, Sinclair. I heard your mother’s ball was a smashing success. Everyone suspects you may choose a bride this Season.”