Rogue's Kiss by Beverley Oakley

Author:Beverley Oakley
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: 0
Published: 2015-03-19T18:30:00+00:00

So Antoinette did wear her daring little ensemble and Thea trembled to think her cousin had thought it suitable for her. Beneath Antoinette’s dark satin cloak lined in scarlet, she wore…

Thea died a little death inside. What if the breeze was to flap it open causing the whole assembly to see the tiny sparkles that covered Antoinette’s nipples? As for the rest of her, only a tiny white swansdown triangle nestled at the juncture of her legs.

Even Fanny had been scandalised.

“You are not wearing that!” she’d raged, but Antoinette had been unmoved. “No one shall know except the man who is answered in the affirmative when he asks what everyone asks at a masquerade: ‘Do I know you?’ ”

Now, as the music grew louder as they proceeded up the steps of the grand venue for that night’s entertainment, she touched Thea’s arm. “Fanny was right,” she conceded. “You make a very lovely milkmaid. Your innocence is like a halo and a lot of men are attracted to that. Not the ones I like, though.”

“Indeed, Lord Quamby—” Thea began before realising her mistake.

Antoinette gurgled, “Oh, silly girl. No, I’ve the loveliest gentleman I met last week with whom I have a secret assignation, so I’m afraid Fanny will have to keep you in check.” She levelled a mock-severe look at Thea then giggled as they were ushered through the front door. “Oh, do make sure you have fun, Thea. If you don’t, it won’t be our fault.”

And then suddenly she was gone, swallowed up by the crowd, while Fanny and Thea, flanked by Lord Fenton and Aunt Minerva, made their regal entrance; meanwhile Bertram, who’d arrived having greased himself with more than a thimbleful, stumbled in their wake.

“You will promise me a dance, Cousin Thea?” Lord Fenton asked. Thea recognised the kindness in his voice, which was in such contrast to the slavering longing Thea saw in his eyes when he beheld his wife.

And Fanny had only just had a baby. They’d been married a year and he still looked at her like that. Thea’s legs felt wobbly just thinking about being married to such a handsome man who looked at her like that.

The ballroom was already well populated by the time they elbowed their way into the centre of the room. Aunt Minerva, dressed in black with a sweeping white ostrich feather in her white toque, cut quite a dramatic figure. In fact, Thea had never seen her look so imposing. And the glint in her eyes was something she’d never seen before. For once her aunt carried herself like a sashaying coquette, her chin raised and her glance expectant as she scanned the room.

Looking, no doubt, for a handsome elderly gentleman with greying hair and a monocle: Mr Granville, the rejected suitor whose heart she’d supposedly broken.

“How will he know you, Aunt, if you’re wearing a masque?” Thea had asked, but her aunt had told her not to be stupid.

“He said I must give him a sign,” she’d said.

“A sign?”

“He wrote another letter.

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