Page 20

Victoria

O n the surface, this ball was very similar to others I’d attended since my debut. Men dressed in their customary finery, and women went out of their way to dress in a manner they hoped would catch the attention of the opposite sex. But that was where the similarities ended.

The women showed more skin than I was accustomed to.

Yes, I’d seen a few women who’d worn gowns with a very daring décolletage, but tonight, that description applied to every woman.

Some wore almost sheer white dresses that made it clear they weren’t wearing chemises.

I’d even spotted a few who had forgone their corsets.

The way the fabric clung to their bodies shocked me.

A number of women had gone so far as to wear gowns that, when they moved in a certain way, revealed a slit cut scandalously high along one thigh.

If any of the dresses had slits along the front, I sincerely hoped I wouldn’t see it.

My training in keeping my composure was certainly being tested tonight.

I never imagined I would find myself in the middle of a dance floor, pressed fully against a member of the opposite sex as we swayed together in place.

But the way Moreland’s arms felt wrapped around me had made me feel secure.

It hadn’t been a conscious thought to lay my head on his chest. It had felt natural.

The strong thrum of his heartbeat was oddly soothing. As though nothing could happen to me while he was near. But I couldn’t deny I’d been embarrassed to realize Rexford had witnessed me draping myself against the baron.

When Moreland’s friends moved away, I turned to ask him a question.

But whatever it was completely escaped me as a beautiful woman approached us.

Her fair hair was voluminous, falling down to the small of her back, and I could tell she was a few years older than me.

Her cheeks had lost that roundness mine still possessed.

Her face had matured into a perfect canvas for her wide mouth and high cheekbones.

The pale blue of her eyes held a hint of amusement.

“My lord.” She dipped into an exaggerated curtsy that allowed both Moreland and me to see down the front of her white gown. Of course, she wore a dress that clung to her curves, hugging her breasts and rounded hips. “I didn’t expect to see you here with a guest.”

Moreland made a small sound, one the woman somehow knew meant he was annoyed.

I couldn’t help but wonder why. Was this woman one of his past lovers? Panic threatened to consume me at the thought. If she was the type of woman Moreland normally entertained, I had no hope of capturing his interest.

Clearly, our dance had muddled my thoughts. Moreland was only with me as a favor to my brother.

“Victoria, I would like you to meet Mirabelle Devereux,” Moreland said. “Mirabelle, this is my guest, Lady Victoria Wright.”

Mirabelle. Lord Kendrick had just said his former mistress was named Mirabelle. My spirits lifted at the knowledge that she wasn’t one of Moreland’s former paramours. He’d said outright that he had no interest in spending time with her.

Mirabelle’s eyes widened, then she laughed. “Does the marquess know you’re here with his sister?” She shook her head, her smile indulgent. “I must admit, when I first heard the rumors, I was certain people were lying. But I see you’ve moved on to corrupting proper young ladies now.”

Her gaze swept up and down my body, and heat rose to my cheeks. Given that the woman was a member of the demimonde, I shouldn’t be embarrassed. Who was she to judge me?

Moreland did something I never expected. He wrapped his arm around my waist and pulled me to his side.

Mirabelle shook her head and sighed dramatically. “I might have been wasting my time with Kendrick. I never imagined you’d be so brazen as to take Rexford’s sister as your mistress. I don’t know how you managed it, but I must say that I’m more than a little intrigued.”

Moreland shrugged. “Sometimes we are powerless against our desires.”

Mirabelle licked her lips, her gaze moving between us. “Perhaps the three of us…”

Her words trailed off, and I couldn’t understand what she was implying. But it was impossible to miss the way her hand lingered on Moreland’s arm as she leaned in close. I suppressed the desire to throw myself between them.

Instead, I placed a hand on Moreland’s chest and met Mirabelle’s gaze. “I don’t share.”

She released her grip on his arm and laughed, her eyes sparkling. I wondered if my eyes ever sparkled but quickly dismissed the thought.

Mirabelle leaned closer and lowered her voice. “You two are putting on a very good show, but if you want people to believe she’s your mistress, you’ll need to do something scandalous together. That waltz wasn’t enough.”

She reached into her bodice, pulled out a calling card, and handed it to me. “If you ever want a few pointers, you can contact me. I’ll be more than happy to help.” She kissed her fingers and waved them in the air as she sauntered away, hips swaying with every step.

Moreland turned us away from the crowd that still watched us. “If Mirabelle has guessed what we’re about…”

He didn’t need to finish. I understood.

I trailed my hand down his chest until it rested just above the fall of his trousers.

He sucked in a breath and covered my hand with one of his.

Then he marched me along the perimeter of the room.

He cursed as we slowed at the first, second, and third alcoves.

The curtains were drawn, and the muffled sounds from within made it clear they were occupied.

Finally, we came upon an empty space, and he led me into it with a lascivious gleam in his eye.

I’d seen that same look on other men’s faces when they’d glanced my way, but it had always filled me with revulsion. So, why did I feel… anticipation?

He closed the curtain behind us and released me. We stood there, alone in the darkened alcove, staring at one another. I realized then that I was breathing heavily. So was Moreland.