Page 71 of My Rogue, My Ruin
The memory of his searing kisses in the library and his touch made her weak-kneed. His kiss—hismouth—had branded her to the bone. No man had ever made her feel the way he did, as if her entire body lay at the center of the sun. Even now, her lips tingled. Brynn’s breath came in quick spurts, shame flooding her cheeks with hot, violent color.
“Do you feel ill, my lady?” Lana asked with a concerned look, rousing Brynn from her disturbing thoughts.
“No. It’s a little warm, that’s all,” she said, fanning herself vigorously.
“Well, you look lovely with some color in your cheeks,” Lana commented.
Brynn grimaced. If Lana only knew what had caused her to flush so, she would be shocked. She stood up from the vanity and felt the dress she wore pull on her shoulders as if it had been made of lead and not layers of deep green satin with a black lace overlay. The square-cut bodice hung low, and wide bell sleeves trimmed in black lace edging extended down to her wrists. Tapered in at her waist and falling in graceful folds to the floor, the gown was exquisitely made. She should have felt beautiful wearing it, but Brynn felt only hollow.
“I feel like such a fraud,” she said, her gloved fingers touching her neck where a necklace of priceless and gorgeously set diamonds rested. “As if I am not here at all.” She sighed and adjusted the stunning tiered necklace at her throat.
“Well, I can see you, and you are lovely,” Lana replied. Then, after studying her with a critical eye, her lower lip caught between her teeth, she said, “The rubies would go so well with this gown. Much better than those diamonds, I think.”
Brynn stared at her maid. Lana certainly had proven to have an eye for turning out the perfect pairing of gowns and jewels, but sometimes Brynn caught a hint of something else—Lana spoke as if she were personally familiar with such adornments, which made little sense, Brynn knew. She’d have to agree with her in this instance, though. She would have chosen the rubies over the diamonds herself. They made her feel bold and confident, and she needed that feeling tonight more than ever before.
And Archer had given them to her.
He had given them to her with far more honesty than he had these ridiculous heirloom diamonds. The necklace itself felt like an immense jeweled shackle, unlike the rubies that he had sent her under another guise. It was as if Archer were two different people—the aloof duke with a stone heart and the bandit rogue with a velvet touch. And she seemed to be trapped directly between them. It still did not feel real, and with every passing day, the confession he’d made to her felt more and more distant. They could not discuss it, of course, until they were alone again.
And being alone with him had its dangers.
“The diamonds are truly stunning, though, my lady,” Lana said. She had been tiptoeing around Brynn all week, especially after Brynn’s quarrel with Gray. She must have guessed how awful it was for her to not be able to confide in Gray…how much it was tearing her apart to keep secrets from him.
“They’re too much, and you know it,” Brynn replied, catching a look from Lana in the mirror. She was smothering her grin and trying to hide behind Brynn’s frame.
They were Archer’s grandmother’s diamonds, and there were plenty of people among tonight’s guests who would remember the spectacular necklace. They were, after all, quite…unforgettable. But they weren’t hers—they were the belongings of the past Bradburne duchesses, a role that she was now expected to step into. Brynn swallowed, her hand fluttering to her side. The diamonds winked in the light, and their icy color made her miss the fiery rubies all the more.
Lana squeezed her shoulders, bare thanks to the low cut of her gown. “It’s time,” she whispered. Brynn’s entire body felt numb all over, and Lana shot her a fierce look. “Hold your head high, my mother always used to say. Don’t let them see what you do not give them permission to see.” She smiled at Brynn’s blank expression and tilted up her chin so that her profile became instantly regal. “Like so. You are to become a duchess. Let them see the duchess.”
Brynn frowned at Lana’s unexpected and thoroughly profound advice, but couldn’t dwell on it, as she was ushered from the room in a swish of skirts. Archer and her parents would already be downstairs, mingling with the first wash of guests, and Brynn was expected to make a grand entrance before too long a time had passed.
She walked through the hallways until she came to the set of Palladian stairs that led into the ballroom. She stopped at the top of the stairs and drew a strangled breath, glancing down. The ballroom had been transformed into a magical paradise. Guests wearing gowns of every imaginable color twirled on the dance floor with their equally impeccably dressed partners. Thousands of shimmering candles in gleaming chandeliers cast the ballroom in an ethereal glow, while bouquets of fresh flowers dotted the room and dewy rose petals littered the floor.
She exhaled. This was it.
Lana handed her a stunning jade and obsidian Venetian mask, and mouthedbe the duchessonce more. Brynn nodded, her gloved fingers resting along the cool marble of the balustrade. She tilted her chin as Lana had demonstrated and took the first step.
Heads in the ballroom below swiveled upward as she descended. Her eyes sought those of her family at its base—her mother’s proud ones, her father’s already misty ones, Gray’s accusatory ones—before searching for those belonging to her unwilling fiancé.
Archer’s back was to her. He appeared to be in conversation with a young man she recognized behind his demi mask as the handsome Earl of Langlevit, and Brynn was inordinately grateful for the reprieve. Her breath calmed, and she relaxed her death grip on the curving handrail. As she descended, conversation in the room slowed and stilled, and as the earl inclined his head in an admiring bow, Archer finally turned.
She stood frozen on the last step, her emotions swelling in her chest. The sight of Archer took her breath away. He was not wearing a mask, which made her smile. It was so like him to go against convention. Dressed in immaculate superfine, his midnight-blue tailored evening clothes fit his broad frame superbly. The snowy white cloth of his cravat and shirt contrasted sharply with the tanned skin at his throat. But it was his eyes that held Brynn immobile. They glinted with unmistakable possessiveness, claiming ownership with a single sweeping glance that made her treasonous body tremble from head to toe. She steeled herself—it was an act, she knew.
To everyone else in the room, the duke appeared to be gazing at his bride-to-be in fond, proud appreciation. But Brynn knew better. Only she could see the layer of ice that lay behind those eyes.It is all a pretense,she reminded herself. Remembering Lana’s words, she jutted her chin and pushed a radiant smile to her lips.
As if a spell was broken, Archer strode swiftly to her side and offered her his arm. She placed a gloved hand upon it, and cheers broke throughout the ballroom. Brynn’s breath caught as he bent his head toward her, a waft of his spicy cologne tickling her nose. Even if it were an act, the full dazzling force of his charm made her legs feel unsound. She peered at him from behind the mask she held aloft inches from her face, wondering for the hundredth time what she had gotten herself into. “You look lovely tonight, Lady Briannon, but I am sure you are aware of that fact.”
“Thank you, Your Grace,” she murmured as they strolled around the ballroom, accepting congratulations and bidding greetings to close family and friends. Her mama hugged her, her face already streaked with tears, and her father looked like he was on the verge of the same. She searched for Gray, but he had disappeared. Although his absence made her heart ache, she determined to find him later. Her brother would have to get used to the idea or risk embarrassing them both. He was truly too stubborn and protective for his own good, but Gray had to trust that she was a grown woman capable of making her own decisions, especially where matters of the heart were concerned.
Brynn almost gasped at her own gaffe. This charade was nowhere near a matter of the heart. It was a business agreement, nothing more.
Guests raised their glasses in toasts to their future health and happiness, interspersed with sadder ones that expressed how tragic it was that the late duke could not be here. Archer took them all in stride with unfailing courtesy.
Eloise approached and greeted Lord and Lady Dinsmore before turning to her. “Lady Briannon, you light up the room with your presence.”
“As do you.” Brynn smiled and embraced her friend. Eloise’s color was high, no doubt due to the Earl of Langlevit, who couldn’t seem to take his eyes off her. She was radiant in a silver dress that shimmered with every movement. A sheer white silk mask covered her face with glittering sequined plumes wound into her hair. She fairly sparkled. “You’ve outdone yourself, Eloise,” Brynn told her, waving a hand at the whimsical and elegant decor. “This is truly magnificent.”
Eloise leaned in, pride in her handiwork evident. “I meant what I said about wanting you for a sister. I wouldn’t have gone through this much effort otherwise.” Brynn’s stomach clenched at the thread of hope in her voice. But Eloise’s hope was a fruitless one, as was hers. This ball was as real as Archer’s proposal.
