Single White Vampire (Argeneau #3)(60)
Luc breathed a sigh of relief. The other writers seemed to echo it. While it was rewarding to speak to readers, it was also wearying. Lucern was surprised at how exhausted he felt.
As he walked with Kate to the elevator, he reminded himself to definitely remember to feed before the ball. It was imperative. Which brought his thoughts around to the matter of the ball. A Renaissance ball.
Well, he had very fond memories of that period. For that reason, Lucern was sure the night's ball would be fun.
Chapter Thirteen
The Renaissance ball was awful. When thinking about the era, Lucern had forgotten one thing: the dresses the women wore. He remembered unhappily just as Kate stepped out of her bedroom and into the shared living room.
She wore a full-length Elizabethan gown of burgundy brocade and white lace. It had a velvet bodice with the traditional pointed stomacher. Her long skirts and sleeve caps were pleated. She looked lovely. Truly. But the bodice was what really made the gown; it forced her breasts together and up so that they appeared ready to tumble out at any moment. Lucern's mouth began to water the moment she appeared. Then it struck him that he wouldn't be the only one looking at those luscious round orbs on such display. Kate was going to wear this damn thing in public. He didn't like that thought at all.
Lucern had opened his mouth to tell her so when she froze and blinked at him. "What the hell are you wearing?" she asked.
He stiffened in surprise. Glancing down at the dark blue costume he wore, he said, "This is traditional sixteenth-century wear," he said. "Did you not order it?"
"Yes, of course. But I just told them the sizes and didn't specify…" Kate's voice trailed off, and she frowned at him.
"You don't like it?"
"Like it? Well, it's just… you look kind of… er… froufrou," she said at last. "I mean… the black leotards show off your legs nicely, but… ?"
"They are called trunk hose," Lucern informed her. He was still trying to figure out what froufrou meant. It didn't sound complimentary, the way she said it. Unhappily, he did not keep up with modern euphemisms. He really should get out more. "I thought you edited historical romance, too," he said, perhaps a touch peevishly.
"Mostly medieval," she explained. "Renaissance hasn't been that popular." Her lips pursed, then twisted somewhat to the side. "So, what is that… er…"—she waved in the general direction of his groin—"that duck thing?"
Lucern sighed. "It is a codpiece."
"Oh." She nodded slowly, considering the rather exaggerated item.
Lucern peered down and considered it as well. It was huge, a puffed and slashed bag ornamented with several jeweled pins. It was also a tad misshapen from storage and did vaguely resemble a duck. This was obviously an early Renaissance costume. The codpiece had fallen out of favor during Queen Elizabeth's reign.
"I have read about those, but I thought they were supposed to be… er… rounder or something. You're going to hurt yourself. Someone will walk past you, bang into it and—"
"Hey! You two look great!" Chris came out of his room wearing a red and burgundy outfit not unlike Lucern's. His codpiece was a tad more normal, however.
Lucern smiled at the younger man, feeling the tension seep out of him. He hadn't cared for having Kate pick on his costume, and even worse was having her attention focused on his codpiece. Knowing she was staring had made the bit of anatomy it covered stir with interest.
"So"—Chris glanced from one of them to the other—"are we ready to go?"
Kate was positive her breasts were going to pop out of her gown. She was doing her best not to breathe, in order to prevent it from happening, but every time she had to curtsy she also said a little prayer that they stay in place. Fortunately, they did—but each time she straightened it was to find Lucern glaring at every man within looking distance. Kate found it rather amusing. What she didn't find amusing was the way women were staring at Luc's codpiece. The damned thing sparkled and glittered, to jeweled pins catching every passing light. Kate's own eyes had been drawn repeatedly as well. It was damned embarrassing how distracting the thing was. Not that Lucern seemed to notice. If he was aware of the way two thousand women in the room were gawking at his groin, he pretended not to be and walked with pride. She didn't know where he got the courage. Had she walked in wearing sparkling cones on her breasts, she would have been cringing and trying to hide them.
"Wow, what a bash, huh?" Chris commented.
Kate peered around at the entertainment. There were musicians, jesters, dancers and minstrels. It really did resemble how she imagined a ball of old would appear. Her hand tightened on Lucern's arm, and she leaned up to his ear to whisper, "Is this how it really was?"
He hesitated. "Somewhat. Of course, the lighting would have been dimmer. We had only candlelight then, no electricity. The floor would have been covered with rushes. Dogs and rats would have been scavenging for spare bits of food. The smell would have been far less pleasant and—"
"That's okay," Kate interrupted. "I like our ball better."
"Hmm." He nodded.
They found a table and were barely seated when Jodi and several other writers joined them. The conversation was at first dominated by amazement at Lady Barrow's accomplishment. The jesters were amusing, the minstrels played ancient instruments. The dinner, when it was served, was delicious if not quite true Renaissance fare.