Page 66 of Any Duke in a Storm

Lisbeth stared at herself in the mirrored glass in her borrowed ball gown, the silver threads and the glint of diamonds picking up the sun-lightened notes in herhair. It was on the simpler side for a ball gown and it still felt extravagant…with its layers of satin, chiffon, and tulle. It had been so long since she’d attended a ball, and while a part of her preferred to stay in bed, she wanted one night.

You want a perfect night with him.

Her inner voice wasn’t wrong. The thought of leaving Raphael hurt more than she’d expected it to. They’d depended on each other, learned to trust each other, and cared for each other. In some of the worst times. She thought of her cabin on theSyrenand the cargo hold on theVauquelin. And some of the best times, too.

But he’d hate her…and she couldn’t bear the thought of that more.

So leaving was a lesser ache.

One night. One night and then she’d let him go for good.

Besides, it would be a waste of a perfectly lovely gown. Bronwyn’s local modiste had done a wonderful job with the length and also letting out some of the too-tight bodice. They’d spent part of the morning there, purchasing a few day dresses, chemises, and petticoats for Narina, which she loathed on sight, and tailored boys’ knickerbockers that buttoned below the knees and loose blouses, which she loved. The dressmakers had been scandalized when she’d announced that she was half pirate.

Bronwyn had been in fits of laughter, and of course Narina had reveled in the attention. New shoes and a fetching new bonnet had been added to the purchases.While Narina was getting fitted, Bronwyn had leaned in. “Where are her people?”

“Dead. She has no one. I was hoping to find her somewhere safe to live and have a proper education, but with all this business with theSyren, I’d rather not keep her on a ship for the next few weeks. Or worse, have her get hurt.”

Bronwyn had not hesitated. “Valentine and I are here for the month, if that is helpful. She can stay with us until you return to the city.”

“You would do that?”

“That’s what friends are for, and she is delightful,” Bronwyn had said. “A little rough around the edges, but nothing that some love and guidance won’t polish.”

Lisbeth was only waiting for the right time to break the news to the girl. Perhaps when she was drunk on ice cream might be a good time. Undeniably, she would not take being left behind well, but Lisbeth had to stand firm in her convictions. A ship like hers, or even Saint’s, was no place for a child. Things were much too unpredictable, and now that she was going up against Dubois with the might of the Treasury at her back, she could not afford to be preoccupied with ensuring Narina’s safety.

After the modiste, Bronwyn left her calling card at Mrs. Astor’s address with a short note letting her know that she would be bringing guests. She made sure to list their titles, knowing the lady would hardly refuse. The more dukes at her affair, the better she appeared to the rest of New York society. Sure enough, a message had come shortly after with an enthusiastic reply in the affirmative.

“My lady, Her Grace has sent me to fetch you,” the soft-spoken maid who had helped dress Lisbeth said. “She says your French duke is here.”

“I’ll be right down.”

HerFrench duke. A shiver rolled through her as Lisbeth tied the ends of the silver spangled mask. He wasn’t hers, but they deserved one night of magic, if a future of happiness was out of their reach. She spun once in front of the mirror, and Narina squealed at the flare of silver and ivory. “You look like the best damned princess this world ever did see!”

Lisbeth laughed at her enthusiasm, not even bothering to chide her for the slip. “Sleep well, love, and remember your promise.”

“I shall.” She narrowed dark eyes and pointed. “You rememberyours. All I can eat and that will be the size of a ship.”

And that was why Lisbeth had laughter on her lips as she stepped down the staircase. But when she reached the second-to-last step, her breath stalled in her lungs because the gentleman waiting for her was the most gorgeous man she had ever seen. She’d never seen him in fancy evening clothes, the pristine black coat and trousers, onyx waistcoat with a sheen of midnight blue, and a sparkling white shirt combining to make his otherworldly beauty seem ethereal. His features were sharper, his lips fuller. Glossy hair tumbled over his shoulders, those gray eyes shining like stars in his burnished face, his bearing impossibly regal.

He truly was her fairy prince come to life.

And he was staring at her the same way she was looking at him, mouth ajar with wonder and stark desire in his expression. “Mon Dieu…you…” He broke off, unable to speak in either language, and that was flattery enough.

“Do you like it?” she asked almost shyly.

“You shine brighter than the moon over the ocean, Countess.”

Oh.Her knees wobbled at the hoarse rasp. Was she about to swoon?

Bronwyn sailed in from the study, eyes fever-bright and her lips looking suspiciously swollen, followed by her smirking husband whose hair was decidedly mussed. Clearly, those two were even more smitten with each other than they’d been the day before. The duchess was lovely in an ice-blue gown that made her light-blue eyes pop, and from the way Valentine was looking at her, it was obvious he wanted nothing more than to ferry them back to the study they’d just vacated. Despite her envy, Lisbeth was glad for them.

Was that what love would feel like? Like one’s heart was so full, it was stretched to capacity. Like love was the air one needed to breathe. Like every smile and every touch made one feel like flying… Perhaps one day, she might be so lucky.

But for now she could be happy for one night.

With a slow inhale, she accepted Raphael’s arm as they descended to the waiting coach with Valentine and Bronwyn. The carriage ride was short, but just longenough for her to gather herself. This, too, would be somewhat of a performance.

But it seemed like she blinked before they entered the residence at 350 Fifth Avenue, and were swallowed up by a crowd of satin and lace, feathered fans and jeweled tiaras, welcoming smiles and looks of envy. Lisbeth was quickly reminded of how much she disliked the upper classes, and this was much too similar to the life she’d left. Everyone vying to be the diamond. Everyone desperate to be seen, to be esteemed, to gain favor that might never come.

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