Page 21 of Only a Duke (Ladies Who Dare #6)

T he moment Louisa stepped into the ballroom, her eyes were drawn to the buzz of activity caused by the eccentric display set up by their extravagant host. In the center of the room stood a large, delicately constructed glass tank, slightly foggy with condensation.

Inside, a single writhing octopus moved sluggishly, its tentacles trailing through the water.

So this was the marvel from the depths of the ocean Lady Havendish had spoken of earlier.

Louisa could hardly believe her eyes.

An octopus, here, at a country ball? She didn’t know if she should be fascinated or horrified, since the creature itself was fascinating, yet it would grace their plates tomorrow.

This was a reminder to the guests of the host’s richness and the hard truth of the lengths some would go to entertain their guests.

She shivered.

She’d rather skip that meal. Another reason to find the ledger quickly and leave tonight. She much preferred the ocean view from Mr. Helgate’s cottage.

Louisa slowly made her way over to the tank perched on a table.

The creature clung to the glass, its tentacles splayed, each movement sending small ripples through the tank.

Laughter and whispers crackled around her.

Some found the octopus grotesque, others exotic.

She felt a pang of pity for the creature’s plight.

It would not be able to escape its fate in this life.

Little octopus, you shall undoubtedly be the talk of the county for weeks to come.

A prickling sensation at the nape of her neck stiffened her spine. A presence. Unseen, but unmistakable. A shadow fell over the octopus, and her gaze lifted to meet a pair of eyes staring at her from the other side of the tank through a black mask.

A frisson of awareness traveled down her back.

Mortimer.

She would recognize those eyes—that gaze—anywhere.

She couldn’t look away. He seemed to pull her into an unfathomable daze, one of which she found impossible to describe.

This man, from beginning to end, captured her fascination.

And she could not deny that part of this fascination might stem from the fact that they were not supposed to be in contact.

That at any moment, if her father were to discover their connection, a storm would be released, and a reckoning would follow.

She lifted her hand and placed it on the glass separating them. A flicker of something unreadable passed through his expression.

“Lady Louisa.”

Louisa blinked, brought out of her daze by an unfamiliar voice. She turned to the gentleman who approached her, her brows furrowing. “I’m sorry, have we met?”

The man smiled. “No, we haven’t been properly introduced, so forgive my boldness.” He bowed slightly. “I’m Lord Westbridgeson. I saw you standing here and grew quite impatient for our introduction.”

Oh, it was him. “Lord Westbridgeson, how did you recognize me?”

“I’ve been aware of you for some time, and a mask could never hide your Talbot beauty.”

He’d been aware of her for some time? Did that mean he’d been watching her? Louisa touched the mask Lady Havendish provided. She didn’t care for this man approaching her so boldly, especially given who desired to introduce him.

She resisted the urge to shoot a glance at Mortimer. “I am flattered, my lord.” Repulsed, more like, but she swallowed it down with a smile.

He glanced at the octopus. “Remarkable creature, is it not?”

Louisa’s fists clenched before she forced them to relax. “Rather pitiful, I believe.”

“You do not enjoy the sight?”

Her gaze moved from Lord Westbridgeson to the tank again, but the figure on the other side had already disappeared.

Wait a second!

Had he been dressed in the Havendish livery ?

Ah, well, she would get a better look later.

For now, she had to rid herself of this eager lord, who carried himself with the quiet assurance of a man who had never doubted his place in the world.

A man who didn’t doubt his inevitable introduction to her.

Glancing around to avoid looking directly at the man, she could see her father and Camilla hadn’t arrived yet.

In fact, she hadn’t once caught sight of her father since she’d arrived, as the men had returned from their hunting while she’d been resting.

That might be a good thing. She didn’t know how well her composure would hold up if she did meet him here.

She suddenly wanted to slip away as soon as possible.

“Lady Louisa?”

She blinked at the octopus. “If you must know, I can’t say that it’s all that appealing. I think it’s a rather cruel sight.”

“Because the animal is caged?”

“Because it’s on display while caged, almost taunting the poor creature that its fate is no longer his own.” Her gaze returned to Lord Westbridgeson. “A beautiful creature. A lonely fate.”

“His fate was never his own to begin with, my lady.”

The words chilled her blood, and something unpleasant trickled down her spine. The words seemed almost to possess a meaning that stretched beyond the octopus. Fortunately, she, Louisa Talbot, was not an octopus.

“Speaking of which, how did you become acquainted with my stepmother?”

The question seemed to startle him. “I was introduced by Lady Havendish.”

“I see.” She studied him for a moment. “Are you and Lady Havendish close?” She remembered the way Lady Havendish’s eyes had glinted when she’d spoken of this man. They should be more than close if that was any indication.

“We have been friends for a while. Same with her husband.”

“I see.” Louisa doubted he was on the same terms with Lord Havendish as with Lady Havendish. Call her mad, but it was just a feeling she got—all was not what it seemed. Her entire body bellowed for her to run.

The orchestra struck up the chords of the next tune, and Lord Westbridgeson extended his hand. “May I have this dance?”

Dancing all around the octopus tank? Their hosts sure knew how to put on an act for the guests. Refusal was not an option, for he would surely report back to Camilla or their host. She didn’t wish to unnecessarily raise any suspicions. She’d dance and then she would slip away.

She placed her hand in his. “Of course,” she said, allowing him to lead her onto the dance floor.

Louisa usually enjoyed dancing, but this dance, she found herself rather distracted.

Her gaze couldn’t help but sweep across the crowd, looking for a tall servant figure with a familiar masked face, but with no luck.

Where had Mortimer gone? Had he left? Was he still watching?

She despised the flicker of disappointment at the thought that he might not be.

The moment the dance concluded, she excused herself before Lord Westbridgeson could find any other excuse to stay by her side or, God forbid, her father and stepmother arrived and she would have to engage in further pleasantries.

Now should be the perfect time.

She quickly made her way across the room, sweeping one last glance over the room and the poor octopus, before slipping away.

No one would be very likely to suspect anything at this point or question her leaving.

This was the fortunate thing about country house parties where the guests resided on the same premises as the party.

She also couldn’t truly explain the sudden urgency that drove her to act fast if she were pressed.

Lady Havendish’s chamber was in the west wing. She’d already asked the maid who had helped her dress all sorts of things that had slowly revealed the location.

Where on earth was Mortimer?

She hadn’t told him where she would be searching at any given time.

Of course, she could be wrong in her speculation, so it was probably best if he went off to search on his own.

He must have his own thoughts about where this ledger might be hidden.

If Lord Havendish was involved along with his wife, there might be a chance that the ledger was in the man’s study.

She strode past a maid, head held high.

The girl didn’t even give her a second glance.

Louisa smiled. All she had to do was walk the corridors with confidence and she wouldn’t look suspicious.

She was dying of curiosity to see what was so special about this ledger that those frightening brothers wanted it.

No doubt they were in some sort of power struggle with the women of the club.

That was the only thing that made sense to her.

They should most definitely copy the pages before handing it over.

Come to think about it, they still had copies of the betting book of White’s.

Well, Ophelia still had them, if she hadn’t thrown them away.

Would that help Mortimer? If so, they might not need to hand over the ledger to the brothers at all.

How satisfying that would be!

They had dared to approach her brother. Let them dare to try again! Of course, one of those brothers was keeping an eye on Leo now, so if they did decide to take this route, they’d have to tread carefully.

Louisa padded along the hallway where Lady Havendish’s chamber was located, her steps light, her pulse steady. Finally, she reached the door and quickly, quietly, slipped inside, gasping when she felt the presence of a chest pressing up against her back.

The door clicked shut.

Warm breath brushed her ear.

“Lady Louisa.”

*

This was foolishness. Utter madness.

Oliver pushed into the chamber with Lady Louisa, his chest pressing into her back.

Whatever madness possessed him to do so had begun the moment he’d caught a glimpse of her entering the ballroom.

A vision in black silk, she had appeared like an angel of death, ready to claim what she had come for, and at that moment, it felt as if she had claimed him.

He had planned to remain in the shadows, but his feet wouldn’t obey his command.

And when their gazes had locked through the octopus tentacles in the tank. ..

She had touched that tank as if touching him.