Masked Innocence

“No!” Kitty took a moment to compose herself, not intending to snap at her friend, or burst whatever bubble of happiness had been keeping her afloat for the past five minutes. But desperate times called for drastic decisions, and though it was unlikely he’d recognize her, she had no desire to tempt fate quite so many times in a single week. “Introductions are not worth the harassment for the rest of the evening. I want to enjoy myself, Amelia, for once.”

“I’ve already secured our introductions, Amelia, calm down.”

For the first time since her debut, Kitty pulled out her fan, flicking it vigorously in a bid to ward off the sudden sweat she’d broken into. The terror of an unavoidable introduction to the man who’d stripped her virginity in the most decadent and sinful manner possible crashed over her in waves, sending her stomach to her throat and speeding her heart to a gallop.

George continued to soothe Amelia, unbothered by Kitty’s tenuous grip on control. “My brother plays cards with him and said he’d introduce us as soon as Kitty came down. Come, let’s go find him so we can be done with this and I can hear everything.”

“Which brother?” Not that it mattered, because they were all dissolute rakehells equally capable of a friendship with the Marquess, but she needed to talk before she succumbed to a case of the vapors.

“Nicholas, of course. Tristan’s presence is even rarer than the Marquess’, and Thoren is still refusing to escort his new wife anywhere.” Before a syllable of protest could cross her lips, George tugged Kitty beyond the safety of the fern.

With every step closer to Nicholas, her hopes of avoiding the Marquess burned to ash. Kitty looked around the room, desperate for escape, and it presented itself in the most unlikely form. Her grandmother was steps away from an interception, jaw set with grim determination, and no doubt well aware of Kitty’s attempts at escape.

For the first time, Kitty was overjoyed for the woman’s attention. It didn’t matter what the Dowager Countess wanted with her, it couldn’t be worse than an introduction to the Marquess. She’d dance a dozen sets with the most pockmarked and paunch bellied man in attendance if it meant avoiding the Marquess of Claireborne.

“Katherine, my dear, where are you off to in such a rush?” The three girls came to an immediate halt at the Dowager’s accusatory question, and all three turned to face the matriarch.

George spoke up first, the only one of the three not the least bit intimidated by the formidable force before them. “Lord Nicholas would like to introduce us to one of his friends, he’d be quite a catch for Kitty and Amelia. I wouldn’t dare keep him waiting, but I promise to return Kitty to you the moment we’re free.”

The Dowager waved off her words with a careless flick of her wrist. “Your brother can wait, Georgiana. Come, I have an introduction of my own.”

For the first time that evening, a wave of relief washed over Kitty, and she could breathe easy. Even her corset strings didn’t seem quite so tight as they turned away from Nicholas and the introduction she’d sell her prized mare to avoid.

As they crossed the room, and the target became apparent, Kitty’s corset cinched, squeezing every last breath from her lungs. The reaction was irrational, black hair was fairly commonplace, and there were a dozen men in the room who possessed it. Whose shoulders were equally broad.

Her fears were toying with her, making her paranoid, and she inhaled as deep a breath as her corset allowed. Once more the fan came out, forcing much needed air up toward Kitty’s face.

With audacity only her grandmother possessed, she cleared her throat and commanded the attention of the man in question. “Lord Claireborne.”

Out of the frying pan and directly into the proverbial fire.

The world stopped on its axis as he turned, her attention riveted to his face and she desperately searched emerald eyes for even the faintest flicker of recognition as he looked to the Dowager, and then the three girls in turn. “Lady Essex. To what do I owe the pleasure of your attention?”

“I’d like to present you to my granddaughter, Lady Katherine Mandeville.”

He met her eyes and inclined his head, gaze unwavering on her face and oppressive in its intensity. There was no indication he recognized her at all, which gave her a second chance at escaping before he obtained a dance. “A pleasure.”

“Lady Amelia Campbell, and Her Grace, the Duchess of Devries, may I also present to you, Lord Claireborne.”

The Marquess pulled his gaze from Kitty to acknowledge the other ladies, and she finally dragged in a breath. A minute or two of pleasantries was all she needed to manage.

A slight sidestep tested her chances of escape as Amelia launched into giddy conversation, but the Dowager gripped her arm in an unmistakable warning.

When his eyes settled on Kitty once again they lingered a bit too long, narrowing the slightest as he raked his gaze boldly down her torso before returning it to hers.

In an instant she was back at the party she never should have attended, in a bedroom she had no business being in, with a man who had no right to touch her. But touch her he had, at her insistence, and she felt his gaze as surely as she’d felt every naked bit of his body against hers that night. Heat crept from her breasts to her cheeks, her eyes dipping to the most forbidden part of him, the part dominating her dreams for the past two nights.

The part of him that stirred her core to life, set it aflame and coaxed a dampness from her she’d never experienced until him.

Wet.

It was certainly an apt term.

He cleared his throat, and she popped her gaze back to his, cheeks burning even hotter as he gave her a half smile. The same one from that night, the one that said he knew every wicked thought in her head. And this time, she had no mask to protect her identity. “I do hope you still have room on your dance cards?”

Amelia pulled hers out eagerly, matching up dances and failing to hide the girlish joy at having secured a dance with the most elusive man of the ton, but Kitty took a tentative step away and earned nothing but another tight squeeze to her upper arm.

When he came to Katherine, he stepped closer. “Lady Katherine, I would be more than honored for the privilege of a dance.”

Kitty shook her head tightly. “I’m not dancing this evening, I’m sorry.”

“Katherine, don’t be ridiculous.” The Dowager gave another warning squeeze as her well practiced laugh filled the awkward silence amongst the general chatter surrounding them. “Don’t let her coyness dissuade you, Lord Claireborne, she’s quite a daring girl when she chooses to be.”

Her grandmother gave a subtle push to bring Kitty even closer, leaving her to choose between arguing and offering up her dance card. Manners negated her desire to avoid an unpleasant altercation, prompting Kitty to lift her card in offering without so much as another peep of protest.

“It seems I’m fortunate enough to be the first to lay claim.” He penciled his name in and returned his heavy gaze to her, stripping her naked for the second time in as many days. “Perhaps I should claim a second before I lose the opportunity.”

Without waiting for consent, he chose a second dance and placed his name beside it. Heat spread from low in her belly, over her breasts and up her neck, before fanning out over her cheeks as she stared up at him, his boldness too much even for her. She could only hope her face wasn’t the same color as the ruby dress she’d chosen for the evening. “What will people think?”

Half his mouth tugged into a devastating smile as he lifted her hand and pressed a kiss to her gloved fingers. “That I’m the most fortunate man in the room to have secured two dances with such a beautiful creature.”

The navy dress coat did little to deter memories of muscled shoulders from her mind, and the buckskin breeches only accentuated powerful thighs that’d found a home between hers. But the intimate knowledge he possessed of her body was not what she needed plaguing her. Dowagers could smell heathen thoughts across a ballroom, and her grandmother was especially gifted. “My reputation is everything, and I won't risk it over a dance.”

“Katherine, there are so few gentlemen in attendance tonight, no one will think anything of you standing up twice with the same man.” The Dowager Countess pushed Kitty a step closer to the Marquess, making no secret of her intentions. “The two of you should be well acquainted by the end of the evening.”

The other half of his lips made the half smile full, a flash of perfectly white teeth, between lips that’d kissed the most intimate parts of her, sent her heart straight into her throat. “I look forward to our first waltz.”

Her grandmother held her arm out, and the Marquess tipped his head to Kitty before taking his cue from the Dowager, offering his arm and melding back into the crowd.