Page 19 of Red Masquerade

“Hmm.” I felt my cheeks warm, though from the absinthe or his charm, I wasn’t sure. I decided I liked him, this maybe-bachelor and his worldliness and old soul. He gave me the impression he knew of everyone, had been everywhere, and the pursuit of pleasure, as he’d put it, was all that moved him.

“Tell me more about him?”

He knew who I meant. “Asking me to talk about another man while I’m trying to win you over?” he teased.

My blush took hold.

He sucked in a breath. “Well, what do you want to know?”

“I don’t know, anything? He’s a bit mysterious, is he not?” Vince Thornton’s name was entirely new to me. I’d never even heard Lucas mention it, when Ididsee my brother. And Dixon seemed to knowsomething, perhaps something to do with theunderground businesshe was part of, but getting him to crack would be a feat.

Why work so hard when this stranger seemed to be in the know?

Sinclair glanced away from me. “He’s just a new face in this city full of old money.”

“Sure, but where’d he come from? He seems to have just appeared one day and now everyonehasto go to his parties.” The more I thought on it, the odder it seemed that Lucashadn’tmentioned Vince Thornton.

Sinclair shook his head noncommittally. “He makes his money the way your family does. The way I do, I suspect.”

“And how do you make money, Mr. Alexander Sinclair?” I arched a brow and sipped on my absinthe, the greenish liquor settling deep in my core.

He grinned again, leaning in. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

I smiled right back, the effects of the liquor warming my limbs, my thighs, a relaxation settling deep into the fibers of my muscles, a pleasant tipsiness, only after a few sips. I’d never felt so much like a lightweight.

“His parties last the weekend,” Sinclair continued. “He’s thrown them for the better part of a year, and each one draws more and more in.” More partiers, he meant. And I believed him. I wouldn’t want to miss a chance to get real champagne, either.

“A sort of reprieve from the haughtiness of the city, don’t you think?” he asked me.

My eyes were growing tired. I downed the rest of the absinthe, wrinkling my nose against the burn. In my fuzziness, I could have sworn Sinclair turned wary, eyeing my lips, where the absinthe had disappeared.

“Have you ever wanted to be free, Helena? Well and truly free?”

In this country, we are all free, are we not?

I felt myself nodding.Yes. Yes, I want to be free.

Sinclair leaned in, so he stood right before me, his hand on my arm to steady me. I must have been swaying.

“You saw the people in red, didn’t you? You seem like an observant woman.”

My eyes were closed, and when I opened them, we were alone in the room, the radio still playing its dinky little tune to a missing crowd. We were alone, and Sinclair was so close to me, and myvision was turning fuzzy, green around the edges, my thoughts moving on their own.

I hadn’t stopped nodding.

Yes, the red-robed people. Slinking away amidst the party, hiding in plain sight.

Sinclair was at my ear, his voice mesmerizing in my state. I grinned, holding back a laugh when his breath hit my skin.

“You never made it to the top floor, did you? At Vince’s house?”

I shook my head.

“Meet me there. Next weekend. You’ll know.”

He pulled back enough to look me in the eye, so serious and dark. His gaze flickering again to my neck, a flash of desire, and then it was gone.

He steadied me once more before smiling at me. “Remember, Helena.” And in a moment, he slung his suit jacket over his arm and was gone, returning to the main party without me, but when I followed, I couldn’t find him before Flora was grabbing my arm and bringing me into the hazy room and placing another glass in my hand.