Page 1 of Master of Games
PROLOGUE
Six months prior…
The Guiltmore Ball
Tabbie tapped her toe, remaining in the shadows of the candlelit ballroom.
Ballgowns covered less skin, and she was still sensitive about the scars that spidered over hers, so she remained in the shadows as much as possible.
This hadn’t always been true. Once upon a time, she’d spun about the floor with the rest of the debutantes, dancing in the light.
Her chin automatically notched. She didn’t wish to be one of those silly chits.
But it dipped again when a couple stumbled toward her. One of the unfortunate side effects of having a good hiding spot, is that sometimes others wished to use it too.
Not wanting the awkward conversation, Tabbie stepped into the large fronds of the nearby fern.
In the light of day, it would never conceal her, but in the shadows, she was certain they’d not notice her.
The woman let out a soft giggle as the man pressed his chest to hers, her back coming to the wall in the very spot Tabbie had just leaned.
“Ironheart,” she whispered as his lips nipped at the skin of her neck. “We shouldn’t.”
“We should, my sweet,” he rumbled back, kissing lower.
Tabbie’s eyes grew wide for a moment before she snapped them shut.
She knew the Duke of Ironheart through a mutual friend, had even admired his good looks and charm…before tonight.
Not that she had any designs on him or any other man. She’d simply noticed…
“Oh, but my father,” the lady cooed back, a breathlessness tinging her voice. “If he were to find out…”
“But he won’t.”
That seemed to sober her up a bit and her voice grew far less breathless. “You’d marry me if he did, though, would you not?”
“Marriage? Let’s not get hasty, Clara.”
“Clarissa,” she corrected, her voice rising into a cry.
“That’s what I mean, Clarissa. We’re just having a bit of fun. No need to involve fathers or discuss marriage.”
The crack of a palm against skin had Tabbie’s eyes popping open again. She caught the snap of Ironheart’s head as the slap reverberated through his skin. “I should have known. My friends warned me.”
“What did they warn you about?” He asked, not sounding the least bit offended. If anything, his voice held an amusement that nearly made Tabbie gasp.
“That you are a rake.”
He laughed then, a warm chuckle that somehow left Tabbie cold. “That I am. I assumed that was understood, Cassie.”
“Clarissa,” she said, stomping her slippered foot. “My name is Clarissa.”
He waved his hand. “Back to daddy with you, Cassandra. Stay away from rakes if you’re still worried about marriage.”
“Clarissa!” she practically screeched before she stomped away.
But Ironheart didn’t leave. He leaned against the wall, laughing as he watched her disappear into the crowd.
