Page 59 of Red Masquerade

She began to lead me from the room.

“But—”

I wasn’t ready.I couldn’t do this.

My shoes became glued to the floor, my tongue dry.

I’d met plenty of men before; how could this be any different? But it was so, so different. All the other men—sure, some of them wanted marriage, eventually, or a woman who was willing to let them sleep around while she stayed at home. Those men wanted double lives, and the freedom to continue their partying and illicit drinking. But there was no threat of permanence, no expectations, really, outside of the glamor of the bars. Maybe they fantasized of bringing me home and keeping me, but it wouldn’t become reality.

Thiswas reality.

Lord Highsmith was downstairs, waiting for his would-be bride, and I wanted nothing more than to empty the contents of my stomach in the water closet.

“Oh, really, Helena, this is quite ridiculous,” Mother’s happy facade fell, the lines between her brows deepening. “It was no surprise the lord was coming. We’ve been talking about this for quite some time now.”

“Yes, but—” Bile rose in my throat.

“Let’s go.” Shegripped my hand.

Séra kept her head down, cleaning up the bottles of makeup, setting the discarded jewelry into their boxes. Mother glanced at her and ushered me past the threshold.

Stepping through that door frame was like being ushered into my new fate against my will. It was always going to be against my will, but once I was at the landing of the stairs, a dark acceptance began to permeate through me, a sense thatit was happening, and there was no Prince Charming to steal me away.

And my plan to run out the door was thwarted, because there, at the bottom of the stairs, standing next to a smug-looking Lucas, was a man I’d never seen before, but who gazed at me expectantly. His hair was chestnut brown, coiffed and shorter on the sides than may be fashionable here. He wore his suit, gray and starched, his tie knotted at his throat. Cigar smoke drifted into the foyer from the parlor, where they must have been waiting. His brown eyes were calculating, inspecting my clothing, my stance, and finally coming to rest on my face.

I was sure I looked like a statue, a deer waiting for its predator to make the next move.

But his brown eyes only softened, crinkling crows’ feet, as Mother made me descend the staircase. Every step was like a strike against my heart. Closer to him, to Lucas, standing just a few feet behind him with a brow raised in warning.Don’t try anything. Don’t embarrass me.

Lord Highsmith reached up as I came down, and somehow, I was right before him, my fingers in his, and his lips were coming to rest on the top of my hand. Stubble brushed against my skin, and I almost recoiled, the sensation all too similar yet so different from the feel of Adam’s stubble againstmy cheek.

It felt wrong, placing my hand in another man’s.

“I am so glad to meet you,” he said, the deep voice much softer than the riotous laughter from before.

He smiled at me with those brown eyes, but I couldn’t bring myself to return his easy smile. Lucas’ glare was burning a hole in me.

“Well!” Mother said, beaming at her visitor. “This is Helena, my beloved daughter. Helena, this is Lord Wright Highsmith.” She gave me a look. “Howniceof him to come all this way to meet you.”

“I—” I choked on the words, but Lord Highsmith only chuckled. Then, I knew he mistook my silence for awe.

“Why don’t we dine?”

“Wonderful idea.” Mother gestured toward our dining room. “We hope everything is to your liking.”

Lord Highsmith waved her concern away. “Your hospitality has been exemplary.”

Mother blushed. Bitterly, I thought she should just marry him, if she liked him so much. But of course that would be improper—an old widow and a young heir.

Lucas took up the rear of the group as Mother led Lord Highsmith into our dining room. They chattered happily, becoming fast friends. My awareness of Lucas behind me raised the hair on my neck. I knew he was looking at me, knew all the things he was thinking. And he leaned in, sending chills down my spine, halting me in my steps. He was touching me, having run into me, but didn’t back away.

“Don’t mess this up,” he threatened, his voice low and full of malice. I felt his nose graze my shoulder. “Just behave, and good things will happen,dear sister.”

And then he was gone, stepping around me and into the happiness of the dining room.

Twenty

“Lord Highsmith!”