A knock at his door was the perfect distraction.
“Come in.”
Lore crossed the threshold with a grin. “I received the strangest request. I had to come in person to make certain it was real. Did you or did you not ask my valet to bring you costumes for Lord and Lady Renner’s masquerade ball?”
“I did.” Asher moved from his closet and into his private drawing room. “What do you have?”
Lore motioned for his valet to step forward and the man began to show him one costume after another. A sultan, a soldier, a servant. Each one made Asher regret his impulsive decision.
Finally, one costume gave him pause.
“Is that…” Asher leaned forward. “Did you truly dress as the devil?” He noticed another servant holding accessories. One of them happened to be a pitchfork.
Lore smirked. “It was a magical night.” Out of the three brothers, Lore attracted the most women, and that had been the case since they’d been children.
Lore took the devil costume from his valet’s hand. “I think I’ll hold onto this one. Brinley might enjoy seeing me in it.”
Asher had seen and heard enough. “I’ve changed my mind. I will no longer be attending the ball. Thank you, you may go.” He said the last to the valet.
Lore lifted a hand to still his manservant and then fell into the chair across from Asher. “You must go.” His grin grew slightly. “You know, I’m quite amazed by your willingness to play at all. It almost made me proud enough to claim you for a brother.”
Asher grunted. “I could say the same about your most recent activities. How goes the business?”
“It’s going exceptionally well. I should have found a profession years ago. Rising in the early hours of the day does wonders to the body, does it not?”
Asher knew his brother to be mocking him just as much as he knew he spoke some truth. For years, Asher had been trying to get his listless brother onto a path that would fulfill him. Now he’d found it.
The others he’d had to worry about less. Hero had already known he’d join the military, and Valiant had kept her duty by becoming the wife of the earl.
Once he’d finished helping her settle her accounts, he’d help his sister decide what she would do for the remainder of her life and then move on to his next responsibility.
There was always something to be done.
“I’m sure I could find something for you to wear,” Lore said. “Would you like to go as a Puritan?” He chuckled at his own joke.
Asher looked the costumes over until something caught his eye. “That one. With a few alterations...”
Lore lifted the costume. “I take it you’d prefer a lightning bolt to a Triton?”
Asher gave a simple nod.
Lore laughed. “Why did I suspect that of all of them, you’d choose this?”
“Because you know me well,” Asher said. Attending this party was a way to prove to Everly that she didn’t know him, but this costume was meant to do something else.
∫ ∫ ∫
0 5
“Have you spoken to the god of the sky yet?” Diana asked with a chuckle.
“Don’t call him that,” Everly said.
She was surprised Ayers was present at all. Ever since the wedding that morning, she’d had him on her mind. She tried her best not to glare across the ballroom of the village hall where those of Greek mythology had gathered, presenting themselves to the room as though they were up on Mount Olympus and the rest of the party were lowly mortals.
And though the Duke of Ayers was not the only Zeus present, he was clearly lord of them all.
Diana had wanted the party to be open to anyone who could afford a ticket. Gentry and nobles mingled with simple members of the town. Everly had spent a great amount of time decorating the town’s hall into something extravagant.
Yet despite all of its finery and the costumed guests who surrounded her, Everly could not pull her gaze from Ayers.
She recalled that during a tour of his castle, there had been a rumor of his family being descendants of gods and a warrior during the Trojan War. Clearly, he was taking it to heart.
Yet even if she hadn’t heard the rumors, she did think him to be a bit otherworldly.
It was in the way he stood together yet separate from the masses. A green laurel wreath crowned his blond curls and though she had no clue just where he’d found his pale robes, one could not miss just how well they draped his form. While black had a slimming effect, the white that covered him emphasized his large shoulders and strong limbs.
She looked away and distracted her eyes with the others who had come to the party. Everly had hired an orchestra that sat in the musician's box up above, yet below them danced a crowd that ranged from mythological creatures to figures from the past. Pirates and soldiers mingled with court jesters and ladies who’d dressed like their favorite flowers.
Everly saw fairy wings and musketeers and a milkmaid working to charm a lord dressed as a footman. Everyone was having a grand time.
“Abigail was to come as Helen of Troy, but after seeing Asher, she’s begun to call herself Hera,” Diana said. “Perhaps, she’ll not need your assistance after all.”
Everly glanced over to Olympus once more and noted that Abigail had also placed herself close to Asher, making it appear as though their costume choices had been discussed before they appeared at the party. Abigail spoke animatedly at the duke, and Asher inclined his head to listen.
Yet even as it appeared that the two got on well, Everly could sense Asher was uncomfortable. She didn’t know why she knew it, but she did. This was not the sort of event he enjoyed, yet he’d come solely to prove to her that he could.
Silly man.
A part of her thought to rescue him, take him to a section of the party where he’d feel more comfortable, but then she thought that he should suffer.
Everly pulled her eyes from the pair and glanced around the room. She was surprised to see Lord Stoutner. He wore no costume and seemed to do nothing but glare at everyone. He wore disdain better than Asher did.
Diana saw him at the same time and frowned. “My brother invited him.”
Everly asked, “Why? He’s clearly not happy for you.”
Diana shrugged. “He’s my brother’s friend.” She sighed and then grinned at Everly. “It matters not to me. I have the gentleman of my heart. Tis all that matters to me.”
“And where is Lord Renner?” Everly asked.
Diana had dressed like Cleopatra in a white tunic covered in gold. She’d dressed Goliath, who’d stayed home, as Mark Anthony, placing a wreath on his head before they’d left.
Everly herself had dressed as a sultana and found that her and Diana’s costumes were not so dissimilar. She, too, wore white, though the gold details were different. Also, when Everly moved, it became clear she was wearing trousers. The cuffs gathered at her ankles and waist, but the material moved in a free fashion that nearly hid the truth.
She felt quite free in her costume.
“My husband is in the parlor playing cards,” Diana said as they began to stroll the room, making sure that all was well. There was a master of ceremonies present, which allowed Everly the freedom join in the fun.
“Cards?” Everly asked. “Does he find what I offer so dull that he must run to a back room to play cards?”
“Of course not! Everyone knows you give the very best parties. He was nearly dragged into it, but he swore he’d not be there long.” Diana smiled. “Come. Let us find some gentlemen to dance with.”
And so, they did.
∫ ∫ ∫
0 6
Asher had watched Everly walk away from the dance floor. She’d been spinning around for hours in a pair of trousers that underlined the swell of her bottom when she moved a certain way. Never mind that the top portion of her costume fell to the floor or that the back of her head was covered. It was all transparent, every inch of it, yet the layers of gold made it impossible to truly glimpse her m
ore intimate places… unless one stared hard enough.
And he was.
Just as every other man in the room, he’d been spellbound. He’d not heard a word from Lady Abigail Christensen after Everly began to dance. He’d made a few nods and grunted, both to hide his desire and to appear as though he were listening to the woman.
His gaze trailed her and did not mistake the look she gave him as she started his way. She intended to approach him.
Asher schooled his features at her approach.
“Are you having fun, Your Grace?” She gazed up at him with a mischievous glimmer in her honey-hued eyes. Gold hung from her forehead, making her pale skin and red tresses glow. She was undeniably stunning and a dark part of him whispered something he’d not told himself in years.
She’s mine.
It was good that he’d refused the match, he’d told himself repeatedly over the years. They’d never have suited. He and Mary had been perfect for one another.
He thought of Mary then and couldn’t help compare the wife he’d had to the woman who stood before him. Mary would never have come dressed like this to a masquerade. She’d have been something sensible like a shepherdess.
But not Lady Everly. She was always the most provocative person in the room.
“Should I call you Zeus?” Everly’s words stirred something dark within him.
He had to get away from her. “What shall I call you? Scheherazade?”
Her eyes widened. “How did you know?”
Because he could easily imagine her lying beside a man and beguiling him with 1001 tales… just before she beguiled him with her body. “It was either a queen or a concubine, and I didn’t think you’d enjoy hearing the former.” Never mind that if Asher were to start a harem, she’d have been his and every other man’s first choice.
Her gaze narrowed. “I am not surprised by your choice of costume. You must always present yourself as the most powerful man in any room. You enjoy being in charge.”
“I do.” But only because responsibility was a great distraction. Did she truly think him the most powerful man in the room? There were other lords about, even another duke.
She’d enjoy him being in charge.
All he’d need was an hour or so…
“Your Grace.” Lady Abigail positioned herself in front of Everly. The move almost irritated him, but then he was glad. He could breathe again. “I’m thirsty. Would you be so kind as to escort me to the punch bowl?”
“I will take you,” one of the men dressed as Poseidon said. He’d been trying to gain Lady Abigail’s attention all night.
Abigail became clearly distraught, but then she pasted on a smile and moved across the room.
Poor girl. Didn’t she know that Asher had no plans to marry? If she had her eyes set on becoming a duchess, she’d have better luck elsewhere.
“She’s quite attracted to you, you know,” Everly said once Lady Abigail was away.
“She’s attracted to my title.”
“Oh, no,” Everly purred. “It is you she wants. Do you not find her attractive as well?”
Asher stilled. Was Everly trying to arrange a match? The very thought annoyed him. Angered him. “It appears you think we’d suit, though you know nothing about me.”
“I know enough.” She looked at him. “You’re a lord. She’s a lady who is very young and very… pliable. Is she not perfect?”
“You overstep, Lady Everly,” Asher said with what he hoped to be sufficient warning.
“Why have you not remarried?” she asked suddenly. “Is no one good enough for Your Excellency?”
“Again, you assume too much.” He moved through the crowd and started from the room.
* * *
Everly took one steadying breath after another. His scent still lingered in the air.
For a second, when he’d placed his face so close to hers, Everly had felt fear.
Not of him but herself.
For a wild moment, while holding his eyes, she’d thought to lean in.
She swallowed.
“Did you speak to him?” Diana asked, suddenly appearing at her side. “What did he say? What does he think of Abigail?”
“I don’t know.” Everly watched him progress toward the ballroom door. No one from the crowd of harlequins and nuns tried to stop him.
“Oh, you must find out. Abigail has set her heart on the match.”
Then Abigail will lose her heart, Everly thought, even as she went after Asher.
She caught him in the hall. He’d been waylaid by one of the many musketeers. This one being Lord Renner himself.
“Everly,” Renner called. “You must tell His Grace that he is leaving much too early. We’ve yet to set off the fireworks. The display will be like none this side of the country has ever seen.” Renner was charming with dark hair, blue eyes, and a strong jaw.
“Yes, you must stay,” Everly found herself saying.
It was only then that Asher met her gaze, something unreadable in his expression.
“Diana!” Lord Renner called, moving past them. “My beautiful bride. I was just looking for you.” The rest of what he said was all whispered in Diana’s ear.
“Enjoy your evening,” Asher told her as she began to depart once more.
Everly placed a hand on his arm and felt the muscles bunch. She couldn’t recall ever touching him before. They’d never danced together. Asher didn’t dance at all.
And he’d never, ever, come to one of her parties. He was leaving too soon.
“Your Grace, please. I’m sorry if my questions earlier offended you. I would like for you to stay.”
“Why?” he asked in a pained voice.
She smiled. “Perhaps, if only for the novelty that you came at all.”
She thought his lips twitched, but then there was a commotion as the master of ceremonies directed everyone to head to the gardens. The fireworks were soon to start.
“Will you escort me?” Everly asked.
∫ ∫ ∫
0 7
Had Asher ever escorted Everly anywhere? This was the question that burned into his mind as he led her outside. Her body was close to his and every now and then he felt her curves brush his side or even his arm.
It was the most maddening experience he’d ever had, which told him that no, he’d never escorted Everly anywhere.
She announced her every step with the golden coins that hung from her body, clinking with every sway of her hips.
Then they were doused with the darkness that surrounded them. To see the fireworks to their perfection, not one lamp was lit in the garden. The crowd pushed them around and they ended up by a large oak, whose branches made it hard to see.
The air was also cool, and he wondered if Everly was cold, but he had no jacket to give her.
Everly turned to the tree and looked it over. Around them, conversations went on, everyone ready for the display to begin.
It was these conversations that made Asher sure he’d misunderstood her.
“What?” he asked.
“Help me up.” She smiled at him. “I wish to sit on that branch.”
Asher looked to where she pointed.
A thick branch rested just a foot above him.
He turned to her again even though he could barely see her. “My lady, I am not helping you into the tree. You’ll tear your gown.”
“I’ll only tear it if you insist that I climb by myself.”
“It’s dangerous,” he reasoned. He thought of a million ways she could hurt herself.
“Then I suppose I must do it alone.” She positioned herself to do just that.
He groaned and then felt her hands find him in the shadows. She grabbed his arm. “Please, help me.”
“All right, but only because of the novelty of hearing you ask for anything from me.”
She laughed as she placed her foot in his palm. With a quick lift, she was up and seated. She laughed again. “Oh, I can see perfectly from here. You must join me
.”
“I shall remain on the ground.”
“But if thou with me wilt abide in my heaven. Whenever thou comest, 'twill be open to thee.”
It was part of a poem by Friedrich Schiller, about Zeus, but Asher had heard the words as though they’d been about himself.
And she was heaven.
He climbed the tree. He’d not done so in years, but riding kept his limbs nimble and he found himself on the branch at her side in seconds.
“I can’t believe you just did that,” Everly said.
Neither could he. He’d seen thirty-nine summers, yet somehow, Everly managed to coax him to play the fool.
He turned to where he knew her to be. She was nothing but shadows of darkness at the moment. “Another novelty for us both but let us keep it between ourselves.”
“As though anyone would believe me if I told them the truth.” He could hear her smile.
And now a secret rested between them, connecting him to her in a way he’d not imagined possible.
A shrill sound rent the night and then an explosion. The fireworks had begun, and their brilliance finally allowed Asher to see Everly.
She stared at the sky with wonder. He was astounded by her youthful expression. He’d thought nothing could surprise her anymore, sure she’d partaken in enough experiences to make her world-weary.
He turned to the night sky and found that the opening in the branches did allow the perfect view.
But their beauty was nothing compared to Everly’s radiance.
“There has to be some magic to this,” Everly said, seeming to move closer to him. Their arms brushed. “However do they get so many colors in those tubes?”
His heart pumped, rocking him harder than the explosions in the sky. “It’s a balance of chemicals and various levels of energy.”
She turned to him, still grinning. Their arms brushed again. “Thank you, Your Excellency. I didn’t know that.”
The Perfect Duke (Valiant Love) (A Regency Romance Book) Page 3
