“I can’t possibly—”
“It will be a test,” the dowager interrupted. “If I like the portrait, I shall commission Signore Rossi to do all of ours.”
“It would truly make me happy,” Rossi said.
And probably line his pockets, Elise thought. After all, these days, artists needed a patron to survive.
“Of course, sitting with Signore Rossi for a few hours a day will cut down on your lessons with me—”
“Hold on.” Julianna held up a hand. “If I sit for this portrait, I don’t have to do dancing lessons, learn etiquette, and brush up on my knowledge of Debrett’s? Count me in!”
“You’ll still be expected to know those things for your debut in three days,” the duchess countered. “But yes, you’ll have to sit and smile as Signore Rossi paints your portrait.”
“Doesn’t sound like a bad deal,” Julianna whispered to Elise. “I can sit and smile.”
“I’d pay a lot to see that,” Elise whispered back. And it seemed, at least for the time being, there wouldn’t be much to do except sit and smile until the ascension ceremony.
Elise couldn’t decide if the next three days went by quickly or slowly. Sometimes it felt quick as she went through the whirlwind of events that came with the preparations for their debut—dress fittings, more dancing lessons, etiquette lessons, and learning all about the most important families in England.
But then, it also felt slow as she had not seen Reed at all. When she did have idle time, all she could think about was him. His arrogant, handsome face and the way it softened in the garden when they were alone. His kisses and his touch setting her body on fire.
However, whenever she replayed the scene in the statuary in her head, whenever she got to the ending, she came to realize something: Even before the mage attacked them, he was the one who pulled away from her first, who stopped the kiss and acted like they’d done something wrong.
And now he’s avoiding me. It was that small voice inside her head talking. He regrets what happened. Or he was repulsed by the idea that she was a hybrid. During that meeting in the study, he didn’t mention to anyone that he had seen her use her powers. Obviously, in this era, Lycans still very much hated witches.
Of course, there was that possibility that he was busy. The atmosphere in Hunter House was tense, and most of the time, it was just her, the dowager duchess, Eleanor, Julianna, Bridget, and Signore Rossi around during dinner. Cross updated them when he could, but he was busy with Reed and Jeremy all the time. She could see his patience was being tried as well as he seemed tense and spoke tersely. It probably killed him not to be able to use his powers to help, but they all agreed not to tell anyone more about hybrids and other information that could jeopardize the future.
So, there was a life and death situation, but she couldn’t squash that tiny voice in her head telling her that Reed didn’t want to see her anymore.
It was the afternoon of the ball when the duchess declared they rest before getting ready. They were in the parlor, finishing up tea. “There will be dancing until dawn,” she declared. “And you ladies must be ready.”
Bridget seemed the most excited out of all of them. “I can’t wait.” Her pretty blue eyes sparkled. “Perhaps I’ll meet my True Mate tonight.”
“You know,” Julianna said as she turned her head toward Bridget. “You never did tell us about this knowing your True Mate thing.”
“Signorina, please!” Rossi stuck his head from behind the large canvass and waved a paintbrush in the air. “Do not move!”
“Oops! Sorry.” Julianna returned to her original pose, seated with her hands on her lap, her head turned toward the artist.
“I suppose no one has told you about my family legend?” Bridget asked.
“No,” Elise said.
“Well, how do I explain it?” She looked up thoughtfully. “The Lycans in my family always know their True Mates as soon as they meet them. We’re supposed to get this feeling or reaction. I’m told it’s difficult to describe, and it’s not always the same for everyone. But, when you feel it, you just know.”
“How does that work? And why only your family?” Julianna piped in, though she remained perfectly still.
“I don’t know why, that’s just the way it is,” Bridget stated matter-of-factly. “It happened to my parents, to Eleanor’s parents, Eleanor, and Reed too.”
Elise felt like she’d been struck on the head with a blunt object. Reed already had a True Mate?
“No, not to Reed,” the dowager duchess said in a scathing tone. “That … woman he married was certainly not his True Mate.”
Bridget covered her mouth in horror. “Oh, I’m sorry, Your Grace. I didn’t realize.”
“He’s married?” Julianna said, her head snapping toward them which earned her another reprimand from Signore Rossi.
“Was married,” the duchess corrected. The air seemed to grow colder, and the tension in the room became thick as molasses. “That woman is no longer with us. I would say God rest her soul, but …” She stood up. “We will not speak of such things as it’s not something one discusses in polite conversation.” Without another word, she strode out of the room.
Elise let out a breath as soon as the air in the room felt normal. Reed was married. Had been married, apparently, but his wife died. What had happened to her? She scanned her memories of the past week, trying to remember if there had been any indication he’d had a wife. There were no portraits of her, no feminine touches in his home, and no one mentioned her at all. It was like she’d never existed.
“So, what’s the story with the wife?” Julianna asked Bridget. So lost in her thoughts, Elise didn’t realize that Signore Rossi had packed up and left, leaving the three of them alone.
“I’m afraid I was too young to know,” Bridget said. “And no one will tell me the exact details. I only know that he was married, and she died a year or two after the wedding.”
Julianna let out a snort. “You’re not really serious, right? About the True Mate thing? Like, you’re supposed to just know who he is? You lock eyes across the ballroom and bam! You’re my True Mate?”
Bridget looked at her like Julianna had just told her that Santa Claus didn’t exist. “Of course I’m serious. It’s all true. At least for my family.”
“Bull—I mean, I’m having a hard time believing it.” She stretched her neck from side to side and rubbed a hand on her lower back. “Man, sitting for hours isn’t easy work. I think I’ll take the old bat’s advice and get some rest. I’ll see you guys tonight.”
“I think I’ll take a wee nap as well.” Bridget bid Elise goodbye and followed Julianna out of the parlor.
Elise sank deeper into the couch, her emotions a whirlwind inside her. She wasn’t sure what disturbed her more—the fact that Reed had been married to someone who wasn’t his True Mate or that his real True Mate was somewhere out there, waiting for him to recognize her. She supposed she should feel sympathy for the poor woman seeing as Reed was such a cold-hearted snob who thought everyone was beneath him.
But no, there would be no True Mate for him.
Not now, and not ever. Her throat tightened again, thinking of what would happen to Reed. And all because of them.
You can’t change the past, she chided herself. The future she knew depended on it.
Maybe it was better that Reed was avoiding her. She swallowed the tears forming in her throat and stood up, her fists at her side.
Protect the family. Get home. Keep the past intact.
Those were her main objectives, and she would focus on those for now, rather than trying to change things she had no control over or pine for a man who was, for all intents and purposes, already dead.
Chapter Twelve
“Ah, so this is where you’re hiding.”
Though Reed cringed inwardly, his face remained impassive. Of course Jeremy would come to White’s looking for him. He looked up at his brother-in-law’s disapproving face, but didn’t move
.
“May I have a word, Your Grace?” Jeremy said in a terse tone.
“If you will excuse me, gentlemen,” he said to the other men at the card table as he stood up. “I have some family business to attend to.”
“Can’t stand to lose another round, Hunter?” Hugh Montley, the Earl of Haughton, joked.
“You’re not leaving now, are you?” Viscount Byron waved at him to try and get him to sit down. “In all my years here, I’ve never seen you lose this much.”
“Which is why I should cut my losses short.” He gave them an apologetic nod and then followed Jeremy out of the card room. “To what do I owe this visit?” he asked. “Did Grandmama send you after me?”
“You know what tonight is,” Jeremy said.
“I do?”
“Stop playing games, Reed.” Jeremy gritted his teeth. “It’s the Finnerly’s ball. Look, I know you’ve been occupied with all the planning with the ascension ball.” He lowered his voice as they were out in the hallway, where any member could pass by and hear them. “And you do deserve some time to unwind. But you know how important tonight is to Eleanor and Grandmama.”
“This was their idea,” he stated.
“Look, Reed.” He placed a hand on his shoulder. “Grandmama may not look it, but she’s genuinely worried about the whole mage thing. Eleanor says … well she thinks your grandmother is afraid of losing you, like she did your father. This ball, the three ladies, they give her a much needed distraction after months of mourning. A successful debut will make her immensely happy.”
Reed went silent as guilt creeped in. Sometimes, he forgot that while he had lost his father in that accident, Miranda Townsend had lost her only son.
“You don’t have to dance with anyone, not even the three women.” Jeremy’s tone turned lighthearted. “In fact, I’m sure Grandmama would prefer it if you didn’t show any favoritism toward any of them.”
“Then why show up at all?”
“You’re the duke of Huntington, head of the Townsend family,” Jeremy pointed out. “Your presence alone will ensure none of the ton dare say anything bad about our dear guests. But if you show an interest in any of them, no man would dare come near her. They’ll think you’re either interested in wedding her, which means no one will dare offer for her because they can’t compete with the lure of a dukedom or that you’ve already sunk your claws into her and that would make them targets for every lecherous bastard.”
“So, they just need me for my title?” he asked wryly.
“Your reputation precedes you, I’m afraid,” Jeremy joked. “Besides, if you want to dance with any unattached young woman without sending tongues wagging, you’d have to partner with every respectable matron in the ballroom before even approaching anyone else.”
“You mean, every unattractive, gossip-mongering, harridan in the room.”
“Exactly.” Jeremy patted his shoulder in a good-natured manner. “And you’d never do that. So, what do you say? All you have to do is stand and make nice conversation.”
Reed had absolutely no objection to going to the Finnerly’s ball. When Eleanor first brought up the subject of Bridget coming for the season, he knew that at some point, his sister and grandmother would coerce, guilt, or bribe him into coming to a ball or two. The only reason why he was hiding out at White’s now was he had successfully avoided Elise for three whole days and he wasn’t about to break his streak.
Knowing that she was under the same roof as him but not being around her was torture, but he had to bear it. It was too risky. If he were ever alone with her again, he’d throw out what little morals he had and take her to bed. Though she might not understand it herself, Elise wanted him too. It was obvious from their last encounter. But what happened in the statuary only cemented the fact that they truly couldn’t be together. She was part witch—a fact that the clan would never approve of. Witches and warlocks were their natural enemy, and many of the older clan members would surely object as many still remembered the last few skirmishes they’d had with the magical beings.
But he supposed he couldn’t hide from her forever. Besides, a ball was a public place, so there wouldn’t be anything inappropriate happening there.
“I guess I have no choice,” he conceded. I’m doing it for Grandmama, he convinced himself. It would make the old woman happy.
“Splendid,” Jeremy said. “Good thing you’re already dressed in proper attire. We should go now or Grandmama will have the constables of the Bow Street Runners looking for us.”
They took his coach and made their way to the marquess and marchioness of Finnerly’s stately manor on Upper Brook Street. James and Eleanora Williamson were one of the most respected couples of the ton, one of the few alliance families that knew about Lycans, and had been best friends with his parents. In fact, they were his godparents, and his mother had named Eleanor after the Marchioness. The dowager duchess had, indeed, made an excellent decision in choosing this as the three ladies’ debut.
As soon as they alighted the coach, they headed straight to the entrance. The line of guests waiting to be announced wasn’t too long, and soon they were up next.
“The Earl of Winford,” the butler announced in a monotone drone. “His Grace, The Duke of Huntington!”
It seemed the very mention of his title was enough to bring the entire ballroom to a hush. But Reed didn’t pay them any attention. In fact, he didn’t even notice anyone else in the room, except for one person.
Elise was easily the most beautiful woman in the entire ballroom. Madam Marie must be some kind of magician when it came to dressmaking, because the gown she had made for Elise was stunning, and so was Elise. The fabric was the exact shade of blue as her eyes, and much to his surprise, had delicate silver threads embroidered on the skirt which resembled streaks of lightning. Her flaming red hair was done up in braids rather than the more fashionable curls, but it only made her look like a Greek goddess. It seemed, however, that he wasn’t the only one admiring her charms. Her current dance partner—Baron Wisely—was gazing so far down her décolletage that Reed thought his eyeballs would pop off.
“Are you all right, man?” Jeremy asked.
“I’m fine.”
“Then why are you growling?”
He realized that his wolf’s growls were so loud that his chest was vibrating. “Where’s Eleanor and—never mind, I see them.”
He made a beeline for the two women who he spotted standing by the dance floor with Signore Rossi and Cross. The beaming smile of his sister and the smug look on his grandmother’s face told him the two women were extremely pleased.
Well good for them. He was decidedly not pleased at all.
“You’re finally here.” Eleanor smirked.
“Who chose that damned dress for her?” Though he didn’t mention her name, it was obvious from the way his eyes never left Elise who he was talking about. “How could you let her leave the house in that?” he accused Cross. “She’s on display for the world to see.”
“It’s a beautiful dress,” Eleanor defended. “Madam Marie assured us it was the height of fashion these days.”
“Every man in here is staring at her assets, and I don’t mean her dowry,” he snarled. The music’s tempo began to decrease and the dancers started slowing their steps as the minuet came to a stop. Wisely had barely let go of Elise when he saw three more men approaching them, probably to claim her for a dance. Well, he was not going to let that happen.
“And where do you think you’re going?” Eleanor asked as he took a step toward the dance floor. Her hand on his arm made him halt.
“I’m going to save her from those foolish fops.” He gnashed his teeth as he recognized Sir Richard Gardner—a man twice her age and a known lech—got ahead of the other two men advancing toward Elise.
“You will not go near her.”
His grandmother’s words stunned him. “Excuse me?”
The dowager duchess’s eyes narrowed at him and her nostrils flared. �
��If you approach her now and ask her to dance—your first dance not only for this ball, but in God knows how long—you’ll be sending every single gossipmonger and flibbertigibbet’s tongue wagging. With your reputation, who knows what they’ll say? You’ll ruin all mine and Eleanor’s hard work for the past week with one single impulsive move.”
Goddammit all to hell! His grandmother was right. Sure, he didn’t care a whit for his own reputation, but Elise—who was not only untitled, but a foreigner—would suffer most. Sometimes, I really hate this society.
Jeremy caught his gaze and gave him a knowing smile. His brother-in-law’s words from earlier in the evening at White’s. You’d have to dance with every respectable matron in the ballroom.
“Bloody hell.”
And so, he did.
He danced his first dance with their hostess, which was at least the easiest hurdle of them all seeing as she was an old friend of the family’s. Lady Finnerly liked to remind him of all his childhood escapades, but that was perhaps the least embarrassing part of his evening.
The ton’s most upright and virtuous women were also the most ancient. He smiled through the many times Lady Abernathy smashed his toes, and didn’t bother correcting Lady Manderlay when she kept calling him “Wilbert” for some reason.
Reed estimated he danced with a dozen partners, and he would have bloody well danced with the housekeeper and the Devil himself if that’s what it took so he could finally ask Elise. She could very well turn him down, which would probably happen considering his luck tonight.
After he downed a glass of champagne he grabbed from the tray of a passing waiter, the orchestra began to strike up a waltz. He dropped the glass onto the nearest flat surface and made his way to Elise who was chatting with his grandmother and their host and hostess. The sea of people parted as his determined strides brought him to her.
The marquess was in the middle of telling a funny joke Reed had heard about a million times when Elise’s gaze landed on him. Her body went rigid as her laughter died before the marquess said the punchline.
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