The Unlikely Lady (Playful Brides #3)(24)
“No need to explain,” Jane replied. “I was hardly attempting to attract his attention. I was looking for you two and then teacake … in that order.”
Lucy’s tinkling laughter followed. “When I gave you that mask earlier, I completely forgot about your spectacles. Take it on my good authority that there are indeed a large number of good-looking gentlemen here. It’s really too bad you’re a confirmed spinster.” Lucy sighed as if she really did think it was too bad. “I’d be ever so much more efficient at finding you a husband than at convincing your parents you’re to remain unattached. Your mother is quite single-minded.”
“Don’t I know?” Jane replied. “Now, would one of you kindly point me in the direction of the refreshment table?”
“I shall do even better than that. I shall escort you there myself,” Lucy replied.
Jane supposed the flesh-colored blur that appeared at her side was Lucy’s arm, so she wound her hand over it and allowed her friend to escort her toward the teacake. Jane waved in Cass and Daphne’s general direction as she left them behind.
“Don’t get up to too much trouble,” Daphne called.
“Yes, and you may want to avoid Owen,” Cass added, with a laugh. “He can be quite charming when he sets his mind to it, or so I’m told.”
Lucy dragged Jane toward the refreshment table before stopping short. “Ooh, there’s Garrett. I wonder if he’ll recognize you.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Garrett should not have allowed Owen Monroe to talk him into a stiff bit of straight liquor. “To toast the happy couple,” Owen had said, and of course, one small drink had turned into two and two into three, and that in addition to the brandy he’d drunk earlier. Garrett was feeling very little pain. He detested small stiff drinks. Owen Monroe, however, never met a drink he didn’t like. Nor was there a bottle of liquor he wasn’t intimately acquainted with.
That’s what Garrett got for spending time in Owen’s company. He’d wanted to clear the air with Monroe after that hand of cards last autumn and forcing him to pretend his sister was not masquerading as a woman named Patience Bunbury at Lucy’s house party. Owen had insisted he was no longer angry with him. Garrett had won fair and square, after all, but Garrett suspected Owen was getting a bit of his own back by ensuring Garrett awoke tomorrow morning with a devil of a head.
Drinking was Owen’s forte. Garrett should have refused that last drink. Or three. He had to get away from the study and the drinking to clear his head a bit. Now here he was wearing a bloody emerald-green demimask along with his black evening attire and staggering into the Morelands’ ballroom.
He braced a hand against the wall and scanned the crowd. Bloody difficult to tell who was who with everyone wearing blasted masks. Thank Christ, Isabella had stopped him earlier and identified herself. She was wearing a ruby-red gown that was a bit too … distracting for his taste. He’d quickly excused himself without asking her to dance, which she was clearly hinting at, and made his way to the study where Monroe had got him in his drunken clutches. At least Garrett knew enough to stay away from the ruby-red gown he saw bobbing along the far side of the room, besieged by a contingent of hopeful male escorts.
“Garrett, there you are!” came Lucy’s bright voice. He pulled his hand from the wall and turned to face his cousin.
“You must meet my friend Miss … Blue.” Lucy turned in a wide circle, obviously looking for her friend. “Now where did she get off to? I swear she was just here.”
Garrett grinned at his cousin. “Are you certain she exists? She’s not like Miss Bunbury, is she? Or Mrs. Bunbury?”
Lucy plunked her hands on her hips and scowled at him. “Of course she exists. I’ll just go find her and be back. I’m greatly looking forward to you meeting her.”
Lucy had a smile on her face that indicated she was up to something, but at the moment, Garrett’s dizzy head was more pressing than whatever scheme Lucy had concocted. No doubt this was her inelegant attempt at matchmaking. “Fine. Go and fetch her. I’ll just be … over here.”
A large potted palm rested near the wall across the room, a tufted chair situated behind it. Garrett had spied the space earlier. He intended to seek it out and relax for a moment.
Lucy quickly blended into the crowd while Garrett headed for the palm. When he reached it, he realized, to his chagrin, it was already occupied by a woman. A woman wearing a stunning shade of light blue with a domino mask to match.
“Good evening,” he said, bowing to her.
“Good evening,” came the woman’s steady reply.
For a moment he wondered if she was Miss Blue. In his head, she was. Garrett bowed to Miss Blue again. Frankly, she’d looked like a blue blur to him at first. But when he lifted his head and took her hand, he was immediately intrigued. Miss Blue had dark-brown eyes, soft dark hair that framed her face, a pretty face from what he could see of it behind her mask, and was—ahem—well endowed. Quite well endowed. He forced himself to look away from her décolletage. But really, what red-blooded male could keep from looking at that?
“Do I know you, sir?” she asked.
There was something familiar about her voice, but with the ringing in his head, he couldn’t quite place her. “No, I don’t know you, and you don’t know me. This is a masquerade, is it not? As it should be.” Where all that nonsense had come from he had no idea. He was being charming. On purpose. Quite a shock, especially to him.