Page 58 of To Steal a Kiss

Alice laughed a little and nodded. “Yes, I know, and I think there is truth enough to make a girl wary, but… oh, Prue, he’s not like that at all. It was all Matilda’s doing, you see. She arranged for him to help me complete my dare and he did, and….”

She gave a happy sigh as she remembered that night on the balcony, and Prue smiled at her.

“I see,” she said, her eyes full of warmth and understanding, and of course Prue did see. A silly dare had changed her life, too. She would understand. “So, Monday you marry without your parent’s consent.”

Her expression was grave now, and Alice knew what she was thinking.

“Yes, and I know that may cause a rift that will never heal, but that will be their decision, Prue. They need to decide if their daughter’s happiness is important, if her choices are her own and more important than stepping a little higher on the social scale. If they cannot forgive me, I shall mourn the loss of them, but I will not regret my decision.”

Prue let out a breath and nodded. “Well, you’ve considered the consequences and accepted them, so I can do nothing more than wish you happy.”

She held out her hands to Alice, who took them.

“There is one other thing that might help soothe your parent’s ire I suppose,” she said with a mischievous grin. “How would it be if the Duke and Duchess of Bedwin were to serve as your witnesses?”

***

28th June 1814. The Duke and Duchess of Bedwin’s Ball, Beverwyck, London.

Matilda gave her brother an affectionate, if exasperated, sigh and smacked his hand away from his cravat.

“You look very handsome. Do stop fretting.”

“I’m not fretting,” Nate retorted as they walked up the steps to the duke’s vast home. “I’m Nathaniel Hunt, proprietor of London’s most exclusive gaming club. I have nerves of steel and an icy calm that has presided over games worth more money than you can even dream of.”

Matilda arched an eyebrow at him, just a little, and Nate sighed.

“Oh, all right, I’m fretting,” he muttered. “Is my cravat a disaster?”

“No!” Matilda replied, laughing now. “But it will be if you don’t stop yanking at it. Honestly, Nate. All you need to do is smile and dance with a few other ladies and it will all be over.”

“I don’t want to dance with other ladies,” he said, glowering a little. “I want to dance with Alice.”

Matilda rolled her eyes. “I think I am aware of that fact, but if you don’t want the rest of the world to realise you’re about to elope with her, you’d best keep your distance.”

“We’re not eloping,” he said in a harsh whisper, rather indignant at the idea. “Covent Garden is not eloping, and I can’t avoid her all evening.”

“You’re marrying without her parent’s knowledge or consent, that’s eloping in my book, and I didn’t say you had to avoid her. Just don’t stand gazing at her like a mooncalf all night, and only one dance.”

Nate scowled. “I can’t believe you just called me a mooncalf,” he said, looking affronted.

Matilda sighed and took his arm as they walked through the grand entrance into the foyer. “There’s really no other word for it, darling,” she said, enjoying the touch of colour that rose on his cheeks. Teasing her brother for falling in love was her new favourite thing, or at least it would have been if she weren’t so horribly envious.

Not that she begrudged him his happiness, far from it. She was delighted that he’d found his happy ever after, and that it was with Alice… well, that was just wonderful. Matilda had always longed for a sister, and for such a sweet-natured girl as Alice to fill the role was more than she could have asked for. Yet, she lived in her brother’s house and understood newlyweds would not enjoy having her around when they only wanted to be in each other’s company. She must consider what to do next.

Seeing plenty of familiar faces, she bade Nate a good evening, with a final warning to watch himself, as he moved away from her into the ballroom.

“Good evening, Matilda.”

Looking around she saw Lucia approaching her. “My word, Lucia,” she said, her mouth falling open in astonishment. “You look… stunning.”

There really was no other description. Lucia was small and slender, her glossy black hair coiled into a complicated style and studded with pearls. Her golden skin gleamed in the blaze of the hundreds of candles, and her dark eyes were thickly lashed and full of secrets. The dress she wore tonight was a rather shocking fuchsia pink and Matilda thought there wasn’t another woman in the entire ballroom who could have carried it off. The low décolletage showed a daring amount of cleavage and the single, heavy pearl drop that nestled there drew the eye. Lucia clearly wanted to be noticed tonight, and she would be.

Lucia smiled and looked Matilda over, returning an appreciative smile. “I must return the compliment,” she said. “You are catching every man’s attention without even trying.”

Matilda squashed the rising bitterness in her chest. “Yes, they’re wondering how much they must spend to make me their mistress,” she said, not quite vanquishing the emotion from her words or her heart.

Lucia eyes darkened. “Men are vile,” she said, and with such venom Matilda stared at her.