How to Marry a Marble Marquis(50)
She looked at Silas pointedly, and he realized he was expected to participate in the conversation. “Who are you?” The question was out before he could frame it more politely, deciding that the woman was being so rude he didn’t actually care. If her story was true, she was speaking of one of the other young ladies in attendance, which was exceptionally poor form, particularly considering that his Eleanor was likely to not be the most well-heeled amongst this crowd.
“Lord Archibald Skevington,” answered the man at her side, sniffing as though he were the crown prince himself. “And this is my sister, Lady Stephana.”
“The Lord of what?” Silas asked bluntly. “Your name is not one I recognize, sir, although admittedly, I don’t know every human lord. But I’ve not heard anyone address you as your grace, nor as the lord of anything.”
He raised a sardonic eyebrow as the man sputtered. The woman at his side looked thoroughly horrified.
“Forgive me, but it seems you yourself are using a courtesy title. You’ll have to excuse me for saying so, but it seems a bit odd, my lord, to speak ill of those doing the same, in the same breath as disparaging the other guests. For example, I am the Marquis of Basingstone. The only people in this room who rank higher than me are to be addressed as your grace, like his grace, the Duke of Sackwell,“ he gestured to the duke sitting across the table, someone he’d known since childhood. “So if we are, in fact, holding those with lesser titles to a lesser degree of civility, I don’t think either of you should be speaking to me or his grace. Do you see the way that works?”
Across the table, Sackwell chuckled. “It doesn’t make a difference what that paper says about you, Stride. You are always the most amusing dinner guest.”
The rest of the excruciating dinner passed quickly enough, and the ladies were being whisked away. When they returned to the ballroom for the dancing, he would make his move. Monopolize her. Don’t let another one of these charlatans put a finger on her.
When they reentered the ballroom, the sight of her almost stopped his heart as effectively as the afternoon sun. She was resplendent. She looked as ethereal as a moon goddess, dressed in silvery gray, the beaded cape she wore forming wide wings at her back. A moth, he realized, his heart seeming to tap at the back of his tongue. He recognized the costume. It was something of Maris’s. The dress had never fit her especially well, but she would wear the wings and the mask to afternoon tea, looking absolutely absurd sipping her lemonade with the antennae bobbing about her face, not that she could ever be told anything. Eleanor, on the other hand, looked completely precious. Alluring and goddess-like, and there was no time like the present to announce his intentions.
“May I join you in this dance, my lady?”
Her head jerked up from the conversation in which she’d been engaged, and her eyes flashed at him mutinously. She’s only surprised, that’s all.
“What are you doing here, Lord Stride?” The question was asked through her teeth, and even then, when she was clearly furious, her face red with anger and her eyes bright with fury, she was absolutely the most beautiful woman in the entire world.
“I’m a member of the monstrous peerage, Miss Eastwick. Why wouldn’t I be here?”
She had no choice but to accept his request to dance, although it was clear she wanted to tell him to sod off. They were the third couple in the quadrille they joined, and Silas was positive she was going to snatch a candle from the nearest candelabra and set him on fire.
“It just seems odd to me,” she continued in the same tight voice, “that you never thought of mentioning your attendance at any point in the past month, my lord. Up to and including this very morning when you said goodbye as if it was the last time we would ever see each other.”
The music started, and they were forced to play their roles. A bow and a curtsy, waiting their turn to join the square. “Little moth, it’s important to tell the people you care about that you do so each day. You were undertaking a long journey. I would never leave it to chance that I would have the opportunity to voice my appreciation for the time we’ve spent together. You look stunningly beautiful, by the way.”
She did not have a chance to respond, for they were moving then, light hopping steps, his hand at her waist and her nails digging into the fine cloth of his coat as she wished they could tear at his skin. It was a fast-paced dance, and she avoided eye contact with him throughout. He had known she would be surprised to see him, and her anger was not unjustified. But they needed to work through it quickly before one of these other jackanapes set his sights on her.
“My dear, did you dampen your dress? I am positively scandalized and so entirely proud of your progress under my tutelage in such a short amount of time.“ He was positive she growled at him — growled! ― and her adorable display of rage was quite possibly the most endearing thing he’d ever experienced. They’d reached the end of their circuit, bowing again.
“Well, my lord, someone should’ve told you.” She stretched up on her tiptoes, pulling the lapels of his jacket until he bent enough for her to reach his ear. “The scandal is the point.”
The dance ended, and applause rang through the ballroom.
“May I have anoth —“
“You may not. Dancing twice in a row with a single partner is an indication of a preference, my lord, a fact you well know. Now please, Lord Stride, I beg you — do not destroy my chances at success.”