Courting Magic (Kat, Incorrigible #4)(14)
“I was under orders,” the Marquess gritted, “to keep an eye on her.”
Aha. So the Order hadn’t forgotten about Lucy’s wild magic after all. Mr. Gregson had never said anything more about it to me after our adventures in Bath…but then, he already knew how I felt about the matter.
I lifted my chin and glared at the Marquess. “Did she know that you were spying on her?”
His jaw tightened even more, to the point of looking rather dangerous. If he didn’t take care, it might break off at any moment. “She couldn’t care less about my orders,” he snapped, “as she is utterly shameless, with no regard for duty, tradition, or magical self-restraint!”
Well, well. The toplofty Marquess of Lanham possessed emotions after all. I would never have guessed it of him.
I studied him curiously as we performed our stately turns. He’d apparently lost the battle with his willpower, as he was once again glowering across the room.
“What exactly do you find so objectionable about her behavior tonight?” I asked. “Surely a simple little wave couldn’t set you off like this.”
“She shouldn’t be here at all!” The Marquess jerked his gaze away from Lucy with a visible effort. “If anything should go wrong—if anyone recognized her from her time in Bath, or if she lost control of her powers for even an instant…”
“My goodness.” I shook my head wonderingly. “You’re actually concerned for her.”
“I most certainly am not.” The Marquess turned his outraged glower in my direction. “It is the duty of every Guardian to keep magic out of sight of the general public. That is the only thing that could possibly matter to me.”
“Hmm.” I turned to look back at Lucy. She was grinning mischievously in our direction, ignoring her elderly admirers. When she caught my eye, she tilted her head momentarily in the Marquess’s direction and mouthed, Delicious, isn’t he?”
“Hmm,” I repeated, more faintly.
Someday I would really have to learn more about exactly what Lucy had been up to during all those years in Scotland.
I looked at the ruffled Marquess and put on my sweetest, most innocent expression, which I had practiced on my older sisters and brother for years. “Fortunately for you,” I said brightly, “from the way she’s already been surrounded by suitors, I expect she’ll have a marriage proposal within a week. Then she won’t be your concern at all, will she?”
The Marquess let out a noise that sounded like a muffled roar.
The couples behind and in front of us turned to stare.
His fair skin flushed bright red. His eyes widened in what looked very much like panic.
It was quite possibly the first time he’d ever lost control in a public place since he was born. I tried not to enjoy the sight…but I didn’t try too hard.
After all, I was almost certain that Lucy would have thanked me for it.
“Shall we discuss our mission instead?” I suggested sweetly, as soon as the other couples had looked away. “We are colleagues, you know. And our first topic of conversation seems to aggravate you terribly.”
The Marquess opened his mouth, fresh color mantling his cheeks. Then he closed it again and shook his head.
“They said you were dangerous,” he muttered. “I should have listened.”
“Oh, yes,” I agreed demurely, and sank into my final curtsy of the set. “I think it’s so important to listen to good advice, don’t you?”
Even as I savored the expression on his face, though, I watched it turn into sudden alarm. Behind me, I heard a rustle of whispers and gasps sweep through the ballroom.
I jerked to my feet, almost tripping on my skirts, and swung around, ignoring the line of curtsying ladies on both sides.
On the other side of the room, a large man in resplendent dress was surrounded by a gaggle of older women, all waving their fans frantically. Something about his profile looked oddly familiar, but I couldn’t place where I had seen it before. I recognized our hostess, though. Even from across the room, I could see the look of glazed shock on her face as she curtsied again and again to the new guest, sinking almost all the way to the ground in her fervor.
“What’s going on?” I hissed to the Marquess. “Who is he? And why are you worried?”
The Marquess’s flush had disappeared, and his eyes had the focused look of a hunter.
“That,” he said, “appears to be the Prince of Wales.”
“What, here?” I stared. “But surely—”
“Precisely,” said the Marquess, and started forward with long strides. “I believe our rogue illusionist has arrived.”
CHAPTER SIX
Alexander fell into step beside me when we were halfway across the room, sliding through the crowd as smoothly as if it were just one more move in the dance.
“Do you sense anything?” I asked him.
“He’s still too far away.” Alexander’s eyes were focused unwaveringly on the impressive figure before us. “There’s no chance, is there, that he could be the real Prince of Wales?”
“At this ball?” The Marquess snorted. “Even I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for the mission.”
I rolled my eyes. “How terribly lowering for you.” The woman I had just brushed past was wearing a string of jewels so bright, they’d nearly blinded me. I wondered what they wore at the truly upper-crust balls. Diamond ball gowns? Shawls made of gold?