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Notorious Pleasures (Maiden Lane #2)(31)

By:Elizabeth Hoyt


The carriage lanterns cast pools of light that were reflected on the wet cobblestones. It had rained earlier in the day, but the sky was clear now, a few stars already lighting the night. It was unseasonably warm for October—perfect for visiting a pleasure garden.

Hero tilted her face to look up at the moon flirting with a wispy cloud. “He said he’d meet us by the steps. I should think he’ll be here soon.”

“My brother often has business of his own,” Mandeville said neutrally. “Please don’t be disappointed, Lady Phoebe, if he does not join us.”

“Oh,” Phoebe said, looking downcast despite Mandeville’s admonition.

Hero felt a spurt of anger. How dare Reading disappoint Phoebe? No doubt he was in some woman’s bed even as they stood here waiting for him.

“Come, darling,” Hero said briskly. “Let’s walk down to the river. It’ll take a few minutes to ready the boat, and Reading may yet arrive.”

“A sensible plan.” Mandeville smiled in approval. “The stairs are slippery. Will you take my arm, Lady Hero?”

He proffered his arm, but she backed up a step, frowning. “Please take Phoebe. I’ll follow behind.”

He looked at her quizzically. “As you wish.”

He offered his elbow to Phoebe, and she took it, shooting Hero a smile. Hero breathed a sigh of relief. Mandeville gestured to a footman with a lantern to precede them, and they started down.

Hero lifted her skirts to peer at the steps underneath as she began her own descent. The stairs were medieval, narrow, and built against the river wall, completely open on the other side. The wind shifted, blowing the smell of the river at her: rotting fish and wet mud, and beneath that the scent of ancient water flowing endlessly to the sea.

Both she and Phoebe wore feathered half-masks and colorful gowns. Phoebe was in a delicious orchid and cream while Hero felt rather daring in bright red with ruby underskirts and decorative bows. Mandeville in contrast was in a black domino and half-mask.

Hoofs clattered on the cobblestones above them. Hero turned to peer over her shoulder, her hand braced against the slimy wall. She wobbled as her heel caught on the edge of the step, her foot twisting and her weight dipping as she lost her balance. Her heart swooped into her belly.

“Careful!” Large, masculine hands grasped her arms, pulling her back against a hard chest. “That’s a long way down.”

“Thank you.” Hero’s pulse still fluttered in her throat. “I’m fine now.”

“You’re sure?” Reading’s voice was deep and somehow intimate in the still night air. He hadn’t loosened his hold on her.

Below them, Mandeville and Phoebe had halted on the small platform where the stairs turned.

Mandeville looked up. “Coming?”

His face was shadowed in the dark, but Hero caught an edge to his voice.

She pulled and Reading let her arms slide from his grasp. “Yes, we’ll be there soon.”

Mandeville nodded, turning and continuing down the stairs.

“You’re late,” Hero murmured as she carefully stepped down.

“Why must everyone tell me that?”

“Because you seem to be continually late?”

“Don’t you think I’m aware of the time and my tardiness?”

“No,” she said clearly and distinctly as if speaking to a slow child, “because if you knew the time, you wouldn’t be continually late.”

Behind her Reading exhaled a laugh. “Touché, my Lady Perfect.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Why not?” His breath seemed to stir the small hairs at the nape of her neck. “Are you not perfection itself?”

She repressed a shiver. “Whether I am or not, I’m certainly not yours.”

“Pity,” he whispered.

They were at the turning in the stairs and she stopped suddenly. “What did you say?”

“Pretty.” He raised innocent eyebrows at her. “You and your sister are very pretty tonight.”

She stared at him and for the life of her didn’t know what to think. His pale green eyes were shadowed behind a black half-mask and domino, and what she could see of his expression was relaxed—but his hand was fisted by his side. Suddenly she was out of breath, the sensation of falling making her sway.

“Careful,” he whispered tenderly.

Her eyes dropped to his lips, wide and sensuous, framed by the black of the mask covering his upper face, and she wondered wildly what he tasted like.

“Do hurry, Griffin!” Lady Caro called from the bottom of the stairs.

Hero turned jerkily, glad the dark hid her face from those below. She descended the remainder of the stairs, very conscious all the while of the large male shadowing her.