Notorious Pleasures (Maiden Lane #2)(6)
“Am I?” Hero automatically felt both earlobes, her face heating as she remembered what had happened to the missing earring. “Goodness, I must have lost one.”
Hastily she removed the lone diamond earring and gave it to her brother to place in his pocket.
“That’s better,” Mandeville said, nodding approvingly. “Shall we?” he asked the question of her but glanced at Maximus.
Maximus nodded.
Mandeville signaled to his butler, but already the room was growing quiet as the guests turned toward them. Hero pasted a serene smile on her face, standing straight and still as she’d been taught from the nursery. A lady of her rank never fidgeted. She disliked being the center of attention, but it rather went with being the daughter of a duke. She glanced at Mandeville. And a marchioness would draw even more stares.
Naturally.
Hero suppressed a small sigh and inhaled and exhaled slowly, softly, and imagined she was a statue. It was an old trick to get through events such as these. She was a hollow, perfect facade of a duke’s daughter. Really she—the woman within—didn’t have to be here at all.
“My friends,” Mandeville boomed. He was well known for his oratory in parliament, his voice rich and deep. Hero rather thought there was a touch of the theatrical about it as well, but of course she’d never say so to his face. “I welcome you all here tonight for a very important celebration: the engagement of myself to Lady Hero Batten.”
He turned and took her hand, bending and kissing her knuckles very prettily. Hero smiled and curtsied to him as their guests applauded. They straightened and were immediately surrounded as the guests surged forward to offer their congratulations.
Hero was thanking a rather deaf elderly countess when Mandeville called behind her. “Ah, Wakefield, Lady Hero, I’d like to introduce you to someone.”
She turned and met wickedly amused light green eyes. Hero could only stare, speechless, as Lord Shameless bowed and took her hand, brushing smooth, warm lips over her skin.
Distantly she heard Mandeville say beside her, “My dear, this is my bother, Lord Griffin Reading.”
Chapter Two
Queen Ravenhair had ruled her kingdom fairly and peacefully ever since the death of her husband, the late king. But it is not an easy thing for a woman to wield power in a world of men. For though she had advisors and ministers and men of letters, she could not fully trust any of them. Which was why every night Queen Ravenhair stood upon her balcony and held a little brown bird between her cupped palms. She would whisper her secrets and worries to the bird and then, opening her hands, let him fly free, high into the night, carrying her cares with him….
—from Queen Ravenhair
Hero took a deep, steadying breath and fixed a social smile—neither too wide nor too small—upon her face. It was a very middling expression that in no way revealed the shock of finding out that Lord Shameless would soon be her brother-in-law. “I’m very pleased to meet you, Lord Griffin.”
“Are you?” He was still half bent over her hand so only she could hear his murmur.
“Naturally.”
“Liar.”
Her middling smile became a bit rigid as she hissed under her breath, “Don’t you dare cause a scene!”
“A scene? Me?” His eyes narrowed, and she realized that she might have made a tactical error.
Hero tried to retrieve her hand, but the awful man tightened his hold as he straightened unhurriedly. “How delightful to finally meet my new sister. You don’t mind if I call you ‘sister,’ do you, my lady? I feel as if we already know each other. Soon we’ll be rubbing shoulders at every family gathering—dinners, breakfasts, tea, and the odd snack here and there. The prospect simply takes my breath away, dear little sister. What a jolly family we’ll be.”
He grinned wickedly at her.
Hero’s soul revolted at this rogue using such a familiar term. He was in no way fraternal to her. “I don’t think—”
“I’m so sorry to hear that,” he murmured.
She grit her teeth and surreptitiously yanked on her hand. His grip held firm.
“Lord Griffin, I—”
“But pray will you dance with me, my lovely new sister-to-be?” he asked with jaw-dropping innocence.
“I don’t—”
He raised his eyebrows at her words, his green eyes sparkling with sly mirth.
“—believe,” she gritted, “that would be a good—”
“Of course.” He bowed his head, his eyes downcast. “Why would such a proper lady wish to dance with a wastrel such as I? I’m so sorry to have importuned you.”