Masquerade by Victoria Vale

Author:Victoria Vale
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Published: 2015-02-14T06:00:00+00:00

***

It would have been funny if he hadn’t been caught off guard. When he’d been invited to dine with the marquess and marchioness, the last person he’d expected to encounter had been Maggie. Or rather, he supposed he should think of her Miss Margaret Seymour.

He now knew the identity of his mysterious bedmate; yet, discovering it hadn’t made him feel any better. When their gazes had met from across the room, his blood had surged in his veins in an instant, causing his pulse to thrum in his throat and his cock to swell in his breeches. It had taken every ounce of his restraint to keep from taking her arm, dragging her from the room, and laying her upon the nearest sofa so he could seat himself between her thighs and fuck her until she begged him to stop.

As conversation buzzed around him, he focused his attention on pretending she was not in the room—which should have been easy. However, Sheridan Cranfield and Arthur Godfrey did not seem inclined to allow him the moment of respite.

“I say, Cranfield,” the future marquess mumbled in hushed tones. “I can certainly see why you were so hell bent on securing an invitation for Miss Seymour and her family.”

The mention of Maggie had Camden peering at her from the corner of his eye. She smiled as she listened politely to the marchioness, but it was not the wide, hoydenish grin he’d come to know. It read as false, strained. A frown tightened the corners of his mouth.

“Isn’t she lovely?” Cranfield murmured. His eyes swept over Maggie in a way that set Camden’s teeth on edge. “I intend to make an offer by the season’s end.”

Maggie, wed to this pretentious little upstart?

He fought to keep his face a cool mask of slight boredom.

“Congratulations, old boy,” Arthur said, extending a hand to Cranfield. “The first of our set to get leg-shackled!”

“You behave as if the lady has already agreed to marry you,” Camden muttered, one hand clenching at his side.

Cranfield took on the appearance of a frightened bird as he turned to face him. “I beg your pardon, Your Grace?”

Camden’s level stare never wavered from his. “Nothing of any consequence,” he replied, his tone cooler than a snowy gust of wind.

Cranfield looked as if he wished to contradict Camden, but as quickly as his mouth opened, he snapped it shut.

Camden turned away from them both, a self-satisfied smirk curving his lips. Yet another perk of the dukedom—no one would dare speak against him and risk incurring his wrath.

His smile grew as he found Maggie alone with her mother and the marchioness. Her father had left the ladies to their conversation and joined the marquess and several others for a drink before dinner on the opposite end of the drawing room. His aunt had found a place on a sofa, beside the marquess’ mother, the dowager marchioness.

“Oh, Your Grace!” Lady Seymour exclaimed as he neared them. “I did not have a chance to tell you that I find your tiepin to be most exquisite.

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