Page 53 of Duke of Wickedness
Perhaps, he told himself, it was time to put an end to this thing. He needed to keep a clear line between what this was—a bargain to help Ariadne learn what she wanted to learn—and what it wasn’t.
Which was anything that was built to last.
Not that he even wanted that. That wasn’t who he was. That wasn’t what he was.
Ariadne might not be suited for a hypocrite like Hershire, but she hadn’t said anything that suggested that she had abandoned her plans for matrimony, either. And that meant she could never be for a man like him.
“Not,” he muttered aloud to himself, “that I want her like that.”
He knew plenty of people who wouldn’t dim Ariadne’s fire—and who wouldn’t turn up their noses at marrying her atop that. And if his stomach twisted at the idea of giving her over to someone else—someone of her choosing, of course—well, that was just another sign that it was time.
He would begin organizing a party at once. It was time for the little bird to take flight on her own—and for him to let her flutter off wherever her wings could take her.
CHAPTER 14
“Lady Ariadne, a package has arrived for you.”
Ariadne wasn’t necessarily proud of the avaricious little flare of glee that went through her when she saw the package the footman held in his hands. It wasn’t that she didn’t have enough pretty things; she had a wealthy, indulgent brother, not to mention a very fashionable sister who let Ariadne snoop through her things whenever she wanted.
But there was something soexcitingabout a surprise gift.
“I’ll take it,” she cried, startling the footman with her eagerness. Perhaps that should have been cause for embarrassment, but she was having too much fun.
Who would have sent her a present? Catherine, maybe? One of her cousins, perhaps, if they saw something they thought would suit her?
When she went upstairs and unwrapped the package, Ariadne bit her lip with pleasure. Oh, it was even better.
On top of the paper-wrapped contents of the box sat a letter.
Dear little bird, it read.
I know that my previous letters have been insufficient; I hope that I have redeemed myself with this one. I would like to formally invite you to a masquerade of the type that we have previously discussed. As you have noted, my further inadequacies when it comes to the nuances of ladies’ fashion terms, I have, in lieu of describing the appropriate garb, included an offering.
If this is agreeable to you, I shall see you on Thursday. My conveyance will be waiting as usual, though I regret that I cannot accompany you myself, given my duties as host. Please ensure that your mask is in place prior to your arrival.
Your humble servant,
D.
Her lips twitched. She could hear all of it in his voice all too easily—those barbed little jokes woven between the careful wording that protected her anonymity. Carefully, she set the letter aside and unwrapped the fine, thin paper that covered the gift.
And she gasped.
The mask in the package was beautiful—gorgeous. It was silver, all done in careful wire filigree that resembled…
“Feathers,” she murmured, tracing them with a fingertip. He’d given her a mask that would make her a beautiful bird.
He really wassucha devil. She laughed even as her chest ached with…something.
She set aside the mask and revealed the garment beneath. It was an opulent frock, though—curse David’s name—it wasn’t a kind that she explicitly knew how to describe. It was as ornate as a ballgown, but visibly easier to take on…and off, she supposed. Most of the ballgowns Ariadne had ever worn required being partially stitched in; you could not take them off and back on again, not without several servants and a well-stocked sewing basket.
But this… This she could manage by herself. The stays closed in the front, and they had satin ribbons for their laces, so the ties wouldn’t get caught or tangled. And the gown would wrap in a way that meant that it would go on and off more like a dressing gown than a conventional frock, though it clearly wasn’t an item meant for mere leisure.
No, it was far too beautiful for that. The base of the gown was an icy blue, but there was a sheer overskirt that was the same gleaming silver of the mask. The skirt was embroidered in aroyal blue cascade of feathers, only a few at the waist, then more and more until the bottom was nearly solid blue.
She loved it. She loved it more than was reasonable, because she should—she really should—reject it.
Giving a woman a dress… Well, Ariadne supposed it wasn’ttechnicallymore scandalous than the other things she and David had done together, but it wasn’t far off. Buying clothing for a woman washighlysuggestive.
