Page 6 of The Wrong Duke

“I don’t think that’s what that expression means.”

His friend was mostly joking, even if he hit a little closer to the mark than he might have intended. As a duke, Evan was all too familiar with finding himself on the receiving end of a young lady’s affections. Almost always, too, it was his station that they chased, rather than him as a person. Not that it would have mattered either way as Evan was an anomaly in theton, for he felt no real desire to court or be courted. And as for falling in love? That was laughable.

“Oh, you know what I’m saying.” David gave his head a disgruntled shake. “It’s been a year, Evan. A full year and I’m yet to meet anyone who holds so much as a candle to Miss Wilkins. The truth is, I don’t think I want to. It’s like using the flame from a match to warm oneself when a hearth roars in the adjoining room. Door locked. Barred. Knowing that no matter how much I pound on it, I won’t be let in. And meanwhile the flame on the match withers until —”

“Are you just about done with this metaphor?” Evan grinned. “It’s becoming nearly as tiresome as this evening is long.”

David chuckled. “You’re lucky I enjoy your company; otherwise, this here drink —” He indicated to the glass in his hand. “— would be down your front, and I’d be talking with someone who appreciates me.”

“Not a young lady though.” Evan’s grin widened. “We all know that such a creature doesn’t exist on this side of the pond.”

David’s face dropped, and Evan slapped his best friend on the back.

It was all in good fun. What was more, despite David’s moaning, he knew that his friend had come leaps and bounds this past year. Yes, there were days and even weeks where he thought his friend was lost to the throes of a broken heart, where he truly worried that this might be one love lost that David wouldn’t recover from, but those days were well in the past, and he was very much back to his old self. That being, desperate to fall in love again.

This, as much as anything, hardened Evan in his recent decision to warn-off Miss Baker. She was not a real prospect. She was not a love match. A stolen kiss in the garden? One that she probably would have liked others to witness? It had scandal written all over it and Evan said a silent prayer in thanks that he was wearing his friend’s mask at the time.

Speaking of which...

“I suppose you ought to have this back” He took his mask off and handed it to David.

David frowned at it. “Are you sure? When you saw the scratch across your own...” He chuckled. “...I thought you were going to have a heart attack.”

“It’s fine.” It wasn’t, but he handed back the mask anyway. “Seeing as you’re the one desperate to meet a young lady tonight, we can’t have you looking like you spent the night sleeping in the stables.”

“A tad hyperbolic...” David peeled his mask off and handed it back to Evan. “...but I see your point. I do hope that you don’t pitch a fit — maybe avoid reflective surfaces,” he joked.

Evan rolled his eyes as he took back his mask. Where David’s was golden in color, his was pure black — the ghastly scratch came up as silver and was impossible to not notice. But his outfit tonight — an all-black ensemble with a smattering of red on the vest and cummerbund — was chosen specifically to go with the mask and where the scratch was a problem, wearing an outfit that did not match was even worse.

“There,” Evan said as he put the mask back on. “How does it look?”

“Marred,” David grinned. “But lucky for you, it doesn’t much matter anymore.”

“And why is that?”

“Masks off, old boy.” He whipped his mask off. “It’s that time.”

Evan glanced about, feeling a sense of relief to see the other partygoers removing their masks as was custom at these masquerade balls. He was quick to take off his own, happy that the scratch would no longer be a problem.

Although, and most unfortunately, his relief was short lived.

He saw her almost immediately. Even with the mask removed, he recognized her as sure as he would know himself. The tight dress she wore, canary yellow in color, hugging her bodice and exemplifying her curves in a way that was in no way unpleasant, was not what had him staring. Her light brown hair was worn up and pinned by a floral ribbon to match her dress. He could see the mole above her lip; even across the room he recognized it and remembered its feel on his chin. And then there were her eyes... dark blue, playful, and conniving, unmistakable to look at.

Evan met those eyes. Held them. She did the same, frowning to herself as they stared at one another across the hall. She had no idea who he was or why he watched her so, and while Evan would have liked to have kept it that way, he realized, frustratingly, that wouldn’t be possible.

“What are you looking at?” David was on him. “Who are you — oh, hello. She’s cute.”

“She’s not.”

“Is that why you’re eyeing her like a mosquito eyeing a horse’s rearend?”

“I’m not,” he snapped a little too angrily. David frowned... and smiled to himself. And Evan groaned and forced himself to look away. “We were speaking earlier is all.”

“Oh.” His eyes flashed. “So, that’s where you were?”

Evan might have liked to dissuade his friend of the implication that David was so ready to pounce on. To tell him that it was nothing, and that he’d do well to avoid her also. Maybe even lead David away and change the subject entirely? But the reason that Evan had noticed Miss Baker in the first place was because she and her father were very noticeably heading in their direction. And what was more, he didn’t think that it was he who they were coming to speak with.

Evan had suspected that Miss Baker’s father had something to do with her actions earlier. He knew the man well enough. Knew the type he was. Knew what his values were and what he was willing to do to get what he wanted. And this here was proof! Miss Baker had failed in her earlier seduction, so now, he was going to try again. Honestly, the man had no decency!

---