Veiled in Moonlight (The Ministry of Curiosities Book 8)

by C. J. Archer

  Gus rolled his eyes. "I'll give you a quid to give him a black eye, Fitzroy."

  "I could do it for less," Lincoln said idly.

  Lincoln didn't give Seth a black eye but he did insure they both worked hard. Gus didn't just observe, either. He and I joined in for a spell of practice with the nunchaku and other Oriental weapons. Thanks to my smaller size and quickness of foot, I'd become quite adept at avoiding being hit, but was still rather inept when it came to wielding them. I preferred knives.

  "Does the gown you're wearing tonight have long sleeves?" Lincoln asked me as he put his nunchaku back into their box.

  I passed him mine. "No. It's an off-the shoulder gown with sweet velvet swathes here." I indicated where the fabric would sit just below my shoulder. "The swathe effect continues along my décolletage, forming a natural but delicate edge on the bodice. It's very pretty. But you're not interested in how it looks, are you?"

  "Only if it's suitable for hiding weapons."

  "Not on my arms. My gloves are long but far too tight to hide even a small blade. I'll strap one to my leg."

  He nodded his approval and accepted the nunchaku from Seth. "It's unlikely you'll need it but I feel better if you carry one."

  "It's your virtue we must worry about with that set," Seth said, "not your life. Don't glare at me like that, Fitzroy. It's not my fault she'll be an object of interest to the old cads. You're the one allowing her to come along."

  "You're exaggerating," Gus said. "Besides, Fitzroy will be there. No one will flirt with her with her fiancé near."

  "A little bit of flirting has never harmed a girl," I told them all. "I am quite capable of taking care of myself. Now, if you don't mind, I need to dress."

  "I'll help you," Alice said from the doorway. I hadn't noticed her arrival. She rarely watched us training; the violence made her uncomfortable. Sometimes I wondered if it was because she knew her presence distracted Seth and she was afraid of him getting hurt. It was very hard to gauge her feelings on the matter. Or on any matter regarding Seth. It was no wonder he felt somewhat at sea around her.

  "How long have you been watching?" Seth asked, flicking his sweat dampened locks off his forehead.

  "Too long." She handed me a lace-edged handkerchief embroidered with her initials and scented with lavender. "For your brow, Charlie. It shines."

  I handed it straight back to her. "It's far too pretty. I wouldn't want to stain it."

  "I cannot believe Lady Vickers approves of this," she said as we walked out of the ballroom together. Behind us, furniture scraped across the polished floor as the men put the room to rights.

  "She doesn't," I said. "But she puts up with it. Does it upset you?"

  "I don't like watching you try to hurt one another," she said carefully.

  "We're not trying to hurt one another. We're trying to train ourselves so we don't get hurt in a real fight."

  She wrinkled her nose. "I understand the reasons, but it's most unseemly for a lady. But I would hate to see you hurt for real, Charlie."

  "Me in particular, or Seth too?"

  Her mouth softened into a smile. "I wouldn't like to see his handsome features too damaged, but he does deserve to be knocked down a peg or two, on occasion. He can be far too charming for his own good. Not with me, you understand. His charms seem a little forced with me. But with Eva, for example. He did lay it on thickly today."

  I laughed. "You think that was thick? Oh, Alice. You've not seen him at his best. Or perhaps it's his worst." I laughed again, but she didn't join in. She simply walked faster so I had to lengthen my stride to keep apace.

  Lady Harcourt always caused a sensation wherever she went, and her arrival at Lord Underwood's Mayfair house was no exception. It wasn't merely her low-cut gown, although it dipped so low it almost revealed her nipples, but rather the company she brought with her—us. Despite our official invitation from Underwood, it seemed the other guests hadn't been notified of our attendance. All heads swiveled toward us upon our entry to the ballroom. More than one gaze settled on me. Lincoln tensed beside me.

  Lord Underwood broke away from a group and greeted us smoothly, as if we were old friends. He took my hand in his and kissed it. "You look lovely, Miss Holloway. A lovely peach, that's what you are! Isn't she a delight, Julia?" Before Lady Harcourt could respond, he ushered us further into the room. "Such a shame your sweet friend Miss Everheart couldn't come tonight. I did enjoy her company. Such a rare jewel, that girl. One wouldn't have guessed her humble trade origins from her bearing. She reminded me a little of you, Julia, in your younger days."

  Lady Harcourt swallowed then put out her hand. Underwood kissed it, but his hot gaze fell on her bosom, rising and falling in a dramatic rhythm.

  "Allow me to introduce you to my other friends," she said. "Seth, you will already know many guests from your more wayward days as a…a prize."

  He grunted. "You'll have to try harder than that to hurt me, Julia. Your barbs hardly sting anymore."

  She turned a sickly sweet smile on him. "Perhaps it would sting more if the sweet Miss Everheart were here. And you're wrong, anyway. Why would I want to hurt you, dear Seth?"

  He looked as if he wanted to snarl, but he bore her attention with gritted teeth.

  She looped her arm through mine and led me into the room. It was smaller than the Lichfield Towers ballroom, but with so few guests, it didn't matter. The candles in the crystal chandelier dazzled and, along with the tall candelabras stationed around the room, picked out the gems in the ladies' jewelry. Tropical palms did not look out of place in front of a mural of an island scene painted on the wall, and the pineapples and coconuts decorating the refreshment table completed the theme. The room felt warm, too, the heat coming from the large fireplace. It was too hot to stand near. Most of the guests stood by the large arch windows and doors that overlooked the street. No one had yet retreated outside to the balconies for fresh air, but if the room grew any hotter, I might be the first. It was stifling. Or perhaps it was my nerves making me hot. Certainly my nerves weren't helped by my tightly laced corset or the stiff confines of my silk brocade gown. The elaborate crimson embroidery, cream fringing and beads weighed down the bodice. It was a new gown, purchased from the same dressmaker charged with creating my wedding dress.

  "Lord Underwood has done an excellent job at decorating the room," I said, admiring a vase filled with red spear flowers and dark green leaves.

  "It's marvelous what hot houses can do these days," Lady Harcourt said. "Particularly for a gentleman with a fortune at his disposal. Now, enough talk of vulgar things. You wanted to come tonight, so I must present you."

  She turned on a bright smile and greeted three gentlemen. After introducing us, they each bowed in turn over my hand. It was all very pleasing until one of them kissed it with far more vigor than Lincoln liked.

  "Miss Holloway is my fiancée," he growled.

  The gentleman dropped my hand and lifted his brows at Lady Harcourt. "Then what is the point?"

  Lincoln took my elbow and steered me toward the refreshment table. Seth joined us and Lady Harcourt caught up.

  "If you're going to behave so proprietorially toward Charlotte then you should not have come, Lincoln." She may have been speaking to him, but she did not look at him, or indeed any of us. Her gaze scanned the room, flitting from face to face. There were mostly gentlemen present, and all the women seemed about my age. Lady Harcourt was by far the most senior lady present. If she felt awkward, she didn't show it. I'd wager none of the women were the wives of the men whose arms they clung to.

  "He's not here," Lincoln said to her.

  Her gaze snapped to him. It was bright and fierce, challenging. "You presume to know whom I seek?"

  "The Prince of Wales."

  She bristled and looked away.

  "You're angling to be his next mistress?" Seth scoffed. "Good lord, Julia, that's ambitious, even for you."

  "I am not angling to be anyone's mistress, Seth," she bit
off.

  "Ah, yes, it's marriage or nothing now, isn't it? Be careful, Julia." He shot a pointed gaze at the expanse of exposed décolletage. "Your desperation turns them away, you know."

  She turned on her heel and stalked off.

  "I don't think she's going to introduce us to anyone else tonight." Seth surveyed the table with its exotic fruits and flowers. "When do you think they'll bring out the food?"

  "No one has large hands or feet," Lincoln said. "Ballantine isn't here yet."

  "There are some new arrivals." I nodded toward the entrance where two middle-aged gentlemen arrived with a younger man and woman in tow. The younger man seemed out of place and unsure where to look. His gaze settled on us and he nodded. Perhaps he saw kindred spirits in people closer to his own age than his male companions.

  Spotting the man's interest, Lord Underwood ushered the newcomers toward us. "Lord Vickers, Mr. Fitzroy and Miss Holloway may I introduce you to my dear friends, Lord Ballantine and Sir Ignatius Swinburn, and their young friends, Mr. Franklin and Miss Collingworth."

  I dipped into a curtsy, managing to keep myself steady despite the thrill of excitement racing up my spine. I studied Lord Ballantine's hands through my lowered lashes and almost lost my balance. He wore white evening gloves, but clearly his hands were not overly large. They were entirely normal size. His two younger friends, however, sported thick fingers and broad palms like Harriet and Leonora Ballantine.

  I rose and wanted to glance at Lincoln, to see if he'd noticed, but dared not.

  "Are you friends of Underwood's?" Swinburn asked with a genial air. More genial than I expected, although Andrew Buchanan had admitted that Swinburn had swagger and a certain appeal to women, despite his tendency to use them then discard them.

  "We met him through Lady Harcourt," Seth said, taking the role of charming conversationalist upon himself.

  "Ah, yes, the delectable Julia. It's hardly a surprise to see her here, but this is the first time she's brought friends." Swinburn's gaze sought her out and, when she spotted him, he sketched a bow.

  He was shorter than Lord Ballantine, with a thicker build not usually associated with the upper classes. Even though I knew he'd come from working class stock, it was at least two generations ago, if my memory served. He may be rich thanks to the success of his shipping empire, but he'd climbed very high for a man in trade. Very high indeed. The prince must find him to be good company.

  "We're quite well acquainted," Seth said simply.

  "Even with your young companion?" Lord Ballantine smiled at me. "Miss Holloway doesn't seem like the sort of person Julia would want near her."

  "She tolerates me," I said with a laugh. "As much as I tolerate her. But in truth, it's Lord Vickers she prefers to have near her. Mr. Fitzroy and I are merely people she must endure if she wishes to see our dear friend, Seth."

  Lord Ballantine slapped Seth on the shoulder. Seth smiled amiably enough but I suspected he wanted to throttle me. "Can we expect a duel between you and Underwood tonight? Pistols at dawn perhaps? My money's on you, Vickers. You look as though you could beat Underwood at any game he chose."

  "You forget, Ballantine," Swinburn said. "Underwood has given her up. So it would seem you have won, Vickers."

  "I am fortunate," Seth said without an ounce of humor.

  Both gentlemen guffawed.

  "I assume you will enjoy a dance with several of the other ladies here tonight, Vickers," Ballantine said, openly admiring two women who'd come to the table to inspect the exotic fruit. "Perhaps Miss Holloway dances?"

  Swinburn winced at his friend's crass implication that Seth and I would do more than dance together.

  "Miss Holloway is engaged to me," Lincoln said. "She only dances with me."

  "Quite rightly," Swinburn cut in before Ballantine could speak.

  "I can spare a dance or two with other gentlemen," I said quickly. "Perhaps Mr. Franklin will oblige, or even you, my lord." If I was going to learn anything about Ballantine, I needed to speak to him. And Mr. Franklin, too. He would be the perfect age for Leonora's other admirer, Eddy, and he was a shape shifter, if his large hands and feet were an indication. He was the obvious candidate for Lord Ballantine to push on his daughter. But was the baron a shape shifter too?

  The four-piece ensemble increased the volume and tempo of their playing with a waltz. Lord Underwood swept across the dance floor and asked Lady Harcourt to open the dancing with him, proving that he had not entirely given her up. Unlike a proper dance, we ladies had not been issued with cards and pencils to write the names of partners upon. There were no elderly chaperones to oversee young charges, no wallflowers among the women, and no eligible young men, aside from Mr. Franklin and Seth.

  "Your first dance is mine," Lincoln said in that growling voice.

  I took his hand and allowed him to lead me onto the dance floor where we joined the other couples engaged in the waltz. I was rather pleased it was a waltz first. I did so enjoy being held by Lincoln. We were so close I could feel the heat coming off him, and the rigidity in his shoulder.

  "I have to dance with them," I said as we twirled to the far side of the dance floor. "You know why."

  "I haven't forbidden you."

  "Oh. Good. Did you notice Lord Ballantine's hands?"

  He nodded. "It would indicate he's not a shape shifter after all."

  "Lilith claimed he is. Why would she lie?"

  "I can't think of a reason."

  We discussed the possibility of Mr. Franklin being Eddy, and agreed that my dancing and flirting with him was the best way to learn his name without raising anyone's suspicions. I expected Lincoln to watch us closely.

  With the waltz completed, Lincoln led me back to the refreshment table where Mr. Franklin stood with Sir Ignatius Swinburn. The lazy eyes of the younger man followed us before drifting off. Unlike Swinburn, Franklin was tall and lean, his fair hair already thinning on top and his whiskers struggling to find purchase on his chin. He seemed a little in awe of the man standing beside him, but it was perhaps not surprising, considering Swinburn's extraordinary wealth and purported influence. I wondered how the two of them were acquainted. Swinburn did not have overly-large hands. Then again, neither did Ballantine.

  Lord Ballantine had joined another group of guests. A woman clutched his arm and smiled up at him as if he said something vastly interesting. He hardly seemed to know she was there.

  Seth rejoined us, Miss Collingworth at his side, blushing like a woman who'd exerted herself too much, or perhaps flirted too much. She was quite pretty, albeit not extraordinary, with fair hair and freckles across her nose. Seth let go of her hand and bowed deeply. She giggled until she caught Swinburn frowning at her. Mr. Franklin paid her no mind. So he had no interest in her, but perhaps Swinburn did.

  "You're an excellent dancer," Seth told her. "Do you think we can have another?"

  "No," Swinburn cut in. "She's much too tired. It wouldn't be healthful."

  Miss Collingworth bit the inside of her lower lip. "Sir Ignatius is so kind to worry about me. He's right. I wouldn't want to exert myself before the Prince of Wales even gets here."

  Swinburn nodded in approval, as if he'd schooled her in what to say to such requests.

  "His Highness is coming tonight?" Lincoln asked.

  "We do hope so," Miss Collingworth said, silently clapping her gloved hands.

  "He's a friend of Sir Ignatius's and Lord Ballantine's," Mr. Franklin said, as if in answer to an unspoken question.

  Lord Underwood approached, genial smile in place. "Is everyone enjoying themselves? Why are you young people not dancing? Mr. Franklin, Lord Vickers, you ought to be asking the ladies. Perhaps Mr. Fitzroy can spare Miss Holloway just this once?"

  "I would love to dance," I said.

  Silence. I suspected Seth knew I was attempting to force Mr. Franklin to ask me and didn't want to cut in. Mr. Franklin, however, simply cleared his throat, which only made the silence feel more profound.

 
"I'll dance with you later, Charlie," Seth said, coming to my rescue. "After a rest."

  "You're not dancing, Mr. Franklin?" Lord Underwood asked. "Why ever not?"

  "I am a terrible dancer," he said, his cheeks coloring. "I came here to talk and…and meet new people. Speaking of which, is the Prince of Wales coming?"

  "Please say he is," Miss Collingworth said in a breathy voice. Did she want to become the prince's mistress? Good lord, but she was so young.

  "Alas not." Lord Underwood looked devastated. "He had another engagement. His presence will be missed."

  Mr. Franklin sighed and eyed the door.

  Lord Ballantine rejoined us, without the woman on his arm. "When is His Highness due?" he asked Underwood.

  "He's not coming." Miss Collingworth pouted. "What a disappointment."

  Lord Ballantine clicked his tongue and he too eyed the door, as if he wished to make his exit.

  Lord Underwood glanced between them, blinking hard. "Can we not have our pleasure without him? My dears, there is much joy still to be had. Look around you." He indicated the other guests. "There are lords aplenty, and several pretty young ladies who are not engaged. Go, Mr. Franklin. Ask one to dance."

  "I'm not a very good dancer," Mr. Franklin said again, more irritably.

  Lord Underwood fell silent, displeasure pinching his features. And then he spied Lady Harcourt coming toward us, all swaying hips and creamy skin. "Ask Julia! She's an excellent teacher. Indeed, she's just what you need. An older, accomplished instructress for an eager young gentleman."

  Lady Harcourt stopped short. Her smile froze. We all fell silent and I wondered how long it would take Seth to rescue her. The gallant knight couldn't possibly stand to see a woman disparaged, even one he disliked.

  It was Swinburn who moved first, however. He held his hands out to Lady Harcourt and kissed her cheeks. "You look well, Julia," he said. "Always a flower among thorns."

  "Quite, quite," Lord Underwood muttered. His cheeks pinked, and I suspected he regretted his slight about her age in the face of Swinburn's friendship.

  "I am sorry to hear that His Highness won't be attending tonight's dance after all," she said to Underwood. "Pity. So many here were looking forward to seeing him."