Page 85 of The Grand Mistletoe Assembly
“Your necklace is exquisite, Mrs. Pearler,” Wolfgang said with the refined hypocrisy he’d honed his entire life.
“Thank you so much, Baron. It’s my husband’s design, and my entry for tonight’s auction,” Eve responded. “Baroness von List, are you entering the pearl comb?”
Sophia gulped. “I-ahem …”
Wolfgang steadied her by placing his hand on her back. “Certainly, Mrs. Pearler.” He nodded gallantly and pulled Sophia away.
* * *
They found an empty room,probably a study.
“What was that all about?” Wolfgang asked. “Did she already win an attack before you even moved a square?”
Sophia became blotchy, tears welling in her eyes. How could such a simple question fluster her so? It was unlike her. “My mother’s comb … it’s from my grandmother. It’s all I have left of my family.”
Wolfgang sighed. “Then why did you put it on tonight?”
“B-because I wanted to be pretty for you. Worthy of a baron.” She slumped lower.
“I’ll prove that you’re worthy.” He led her to the ballroom.
CHAPTER 7
Sophia’s stomach tensed when she laid her mother’s pearl comb on the auction table.
The same footman she’d seen before, Max, put a little card next to it. “It’ll be item number six, milady.”
“I’ll bid for it and get it back for you before the night is over. I promise,” Wolfgang said as he pulled her onto the parquet. A crowd had gathered, and the orchestra played a waltz. “May I have this dance?” He bowed and offered his hand.
Sophia’s heart flip-flopped, and she felt herself turn crimson. Between Wolfgang’s kindness and the stakes of their scheme, she’d become unexpectedly flustered and lost her composure.
“I’ve never danced a waltz,” she admitted. The music had started, and pairs were swirling around her. She watched their steps, but there was no rhyme or reason to their forward and backward sways.
“Allow me to lead you.” Wolfgang placed her hands in position and pulled her along with him.
Within a moment, Sophia was breathless. His legs were scandalously close to hers, giving her direction. Everything melted away, and she felt as though she was floating among the sparkling chandeliers. Large wall mirrors augmented the lighting effects, and Sophia’s heart nearly burst with joy. She tilted her head back and let her senses take in the heady euphoria of dancing with her baron.
* * *
Wolfgang had never been smittenwith a girl, much less danced with a prima ballerina. But in only a few days, after giving her her first kiss and showing her pleasure, he feared he’d probably lost his heart. He tightened his grip and looked around the ballroom for a private place to lead her. She was pliable and responsive, the perfect waltz partner.
A hand landed on his shoulder. “May I have a dance with the bride?” It was Stone.
Wolfgang froze.
Sophia’s eyes darted to his. He gave her a nod. This was why they were here. Attack and capture. So, he reluctantly handed her over to Stone and walked away. He couldn’t watch the newly enabled member of Parliament dance with his bride.
But she wasn’t his bride, was she? She was his partner, a spy.
Faster and faster, Wolfgang pushed his way through the crowd to the auction tables.
Oh no! The latest bid was for a small fortune! Wolfgang wanted to kick the table and throw the ledger in the fire when he saw Stone’s name next to the number. The same handwriting as in the ledgers. The amount was more than he’d pay for the townhouse all year, an engagement ring for Sophia, and his passage back to Prussia.
“Oh no!” Sophia’s voice came from beside him.
She was slightly flushed from waltzing with Stone, and Wolfgang’s stomach churned. Never again would anyone lay a hand on her.
He picked up the quill and scratched a number. Double Stone’s bidding.
