Authors: Dane
He stepped closer. “I‟ll risk it.”
But did she want to? She knew she should take him up on it. She should steal him out onto a balcony afterward and hope he mustered the courage to kiss her. It would seal their alliance. What was she waiting for?
She turned to look toward Dane. Three young ladies surrounded him now. And he was running his right hand through his hair—the signal that he needed her!
“Oh dear.” She glanced up at her beau. A proposal seemed to be hovering on his lips. Dane was ruining this chance for her. But she wasn‟t sorry. “You‟ll have to pardon me, I. . ”
“There you are, caro,” a perfectly modulated feminine voice said from behind them. They turned to see the matriarch of the Patrizzi clan, Serafina. She‟d brought a pretty young lady in tow, one obviously intended for her son. She nodded stiffly to Eva and then said to him, “You remember Signorina Claiborne?”
After a bit of chatting during which Signora Patrizzi managed to largely exclude Eva, her son was soon paired with this new partner, though he didn‟t look pleased about it.
Meanwhile, across the room, Dane was set to rub his scalp bald with his right hand.
“Please do excuse me.”Not waiting for an acknowledgment, Eva left her current company and headed his way.
Eva slipped into the group surrounding Dane, which consisted of three of the names on the card she‟d given him, as well as three other ladies. All eligible. All interested in him, if their auras were any indication. She tried not to think of them in his bed, of him kissing their lips, of him pressing his body to theirs, and moving between—
No! She must only think of these women as objects on a shelf.
Dane would choose one just as if.. as if buying a hat. And in that vein, Eva was to function only as the shopkeeper, helping him make a selection.
She would not imagine how or where he would wear the hat once he bought it. Or how much he might come to love it over time.
Trying not to attract attention to herself, she glanced at him in silent question. Why had he summoned her?
“Ah, ladies, you must pardon me,” he announced. “I‟ve promised this waltz to Mademoiselle Delacorte.”
With a bow toward six downcast faces, he took her arm and pulled her into the midst of the dancers. He was warm and smelled of various fragrances, having danced with various women. It irritated her.
“You gave the signal. What‟s wrong?” she asked in a clipped tone.
He stared down at her for a long moment; then a slight smile touched his lips. “I missed you.”
“What?” She jerked to a halt. “This isn‟t a joke, Dane.”
He swept her off again, barely missing a beat. “I wasn‟t joking.”
When she opened her lips to scold him again, he added more seriously, “ I wanted to warn you about the man you‟ve linked yourself with.” He nodded toward Alexa‟s brother.
So he had noticed them together. “What about him? His sister is my dear friend and he‟s—“
“A pompous ass.”
She gasped. “A case of it takes one to know one?”
“Perhaps,” he said unrepentantly.
“He‟s none of your business, nor is my association with him,” Eva said firmly. “As for you, you‟re proving a rather difficult subject I‟m afraid. Have you felt a particular interest in any of the ladies here thus far?”
He shrugged. “They‟re all the same.”
“Maybe on first acquaintance, but Signorina DeLuca is considered a great wit. And Signorina Constazio is quite learned and thoroughly enjoys picture puzzles. You did say you liked puzzles.”
“Ah, yes, I recall. That day in your study.”His eyes twinkled devilishly. “How well I remember many pleasurable details of that afternoon.”
She blushed, as he had intended. Suddenly, the offer she‟d made in the ruins spiced the air between them with promise.
He drew her close. “Come home with me where we can be private.”
“What?” She gazed into eyes of lambent silver. His aura was steady, certain, reaching out to her as it hadn‟t with the others.
“Your offer of a liaison. I‟m accepting it, Eva. Come home with me.
There‟s no one else here I want.”
“You mean now?” Heat prickled over her cheeks and she felt a bit faint. No, they must wait. Mentally, she counted the nights until Moonful, until she could have him. There were far too many.
His hand crept to her nape, warm and sure. “Remember how it was between us?” he coaxed. “We could have that again, just minutes from now, in my carriage. In my bed. Against my wall. Me, inside you.
Come.” He stopped dancing and took her hand, tugging her toward the nearest exit. She was halfway across the room with him before she remembered herself and pulled away.
“Stop! I didn‟t mean t-tonight,” she stammered, clasping her hands together at her waist.
“Why not tonight?”
Because you might become addictive. Because if I am with you too often, I will want to give you my heart and you might break it. Because I don‟t want to wind up like my maman. “Because it would be unwise to form such a casual habit. I‟m pleased that you are in agreement with my proposal, but—“
“Only pleased?”
“Very pleased, then.” He was too arrogant. Too confident.
Precisely the sort of man she lusted for. But she couldn‟t let herself want him too much. “As I told you, I mean to reserve our rendezvous to Moonful nights exclusively. To those times when our human spouses simply won‟t do for us.”
“Neither of us is married yet.”
She frowned. “I might have become engaged a moment ago if you hadn‟t cried wolf just now.”
“To that idiot you were dancing with?” His outrage only stoked the fire between them.
“Enough,” she said, cooling it. “Let us shelve this discussion until later. If you wish to continue as my client, you will reserve your comments to the business at hand tonight. Which is that of finding your new wife.”
He shoved his hands in his pockets, looking irritated. “Just choose any one of them for me and be done with it.”
“I‟ll do no such thing,” she said, appalled. “This is a woman you‟ll have to live with for the rest of your life!”
“Hardly. I intend to set her up in a house of her own and visit her bed only long enough to get her with child. As long as she‟s a decent woman of respectable nature, she‟ll please me.”
“You really want me to choose your wife?”
He nodded. “You‟d probably do better than I. And while we‟re at it, why not let me choose your husband in return?”
Eva expelled an annoyed breath. “In that case, your task would be far easier than mine. For I‟ve already chosen him.”
“Patrizzi?”A muscle twitched in Dane‟s cheek at her curt nod. “A little old for you, isn‟t he?”
“What? No!”
“Pardon me, I overstep.” He gave her an abbreviated mockery of a bow. “I have little doubt he‟ll fall at your feet.”
She heard him mutter something more regarding the other man doing so due to the elderly‟s requirement for a cane, but she chose to ignore that and only shrugged. “Of course, I look like my maman. But I‟m smarter than she was. I won‟t let wayward desires rule me. Now, circulate. When next we meet, I‟ll expect a full report from you regarding at least two ladies you met tonight whom you admire.”
Eva stalked across the room and sequestered herself in a nook.
There, she planned to secretly nourish her obsession with him by observing him to her heart‟s content for the rest of the night. But it was not to be, for a voice spoke at her elbow only a moment later. “He‟s handsome.”
Eva turned to see Signora Patrizzi beside her. She, too, was looking at Dane and had apparently spotted Eva observing him. She was an uncommonly beautiful woman, but Eva peevishly wondered what she would think if she knew that her aura was an unattractive shade of puce.
“Signora.” Eva nodded politely to her but ignored her conversational gambit, hoping in vain that she might leave the subject of Dane alone.
However, Serafina only set her fan fluttering to disguise the fact that they were speaking together. “I do hope you haven‟t set your sights on my son,” she said casually. “He‟s well aware he‟s meant for better things.”
Eva‟s ire rose. Women just like this one had battered her mother‟s self-esteem. “If you were so confident of that, you wouldn‟t be here now warning me off.”
Serafina waved politely at an acquaintance across the room. “I didn‟t mean to upset you. I only wished to save you some wasted effort and inevitable disappointment. Good evening, signorina,” she said, and then departed without another word, leaving Eva stewing in her own annoyance.
“Witch,” muttered a voice.
Eva looked around. A tray resting a few feet away lifted a few inches, revealing the grinning pixie under it. She grimaced. “Pinot? What are you doing here?”
His twinkling eyes disappeared as he lowered the tray to rest on his head. “I‟m working, what does it look like? I like to earn a little money for the house when I can. I don‟t need two women to keep me.”
“Spying, more like. You don‟t fool me.”Waiters had plenty of privacy beneath the trays, and Eva was well aware that some took advantage. The hands of a pixie were always busy, thieving the occasional purse or gold watch, or sometimes even rifling the guests pockets just for the fun of it.
“A little of that, too. People forget we‟re under these trays. Because they don‟t see us, they think we don‟t have ears. Makes it easy to learn the news.” Pinot rocked back and forth on his booted heels, cocky. “Yes, lots of news to be learned.”
“Such as?”
“Such as news about a certain gent who‟s listed in your maman‟s little book. A Signor Rrrusso,” said Pinot, rolling the Rs in an exaggerated way, so as to mock the gentleman‟s elevated social status. “I have it on good authority that he‟s right over there, by that statue.”
Russo was the first of the names on her short list of candidates for father. Excited, Eva followed Pinot‟s gaze. “Which statue? There are hundreds here. What does he look like?”
“Hard to miss him. He‟s the taller of the three Brethren of the Misericordia—the Brothers of Mercy. Over there, all costumed in black like tall, skinny crows. Gives me the willies.”
Eva found the trio with her eyes. Their black hoods were thrown back on their shoulders and their long robes dusted the ground. They‟d donned black silk masks to partially cover their faces.
The true Brethren were Capuchin monks, who did works of charity.
They were a familiar site at funerals and in city streets as they rushed the desperately ill on litters toward hospital. But they were never present at balls.
“Why are they dressed that way? The Capuchins aren‟t exactly creatures of Roman myth,” she observed.
“Who knows? But one of the waiters here works in Russo‟s household. It‟s him all right, but he‟s no monk.”
“No, I‟d figured out that much myself.” She gave him a surreptitious pat on the shoulder and then headed for the black-caped trio.
“ Thank you, Pinot. I think I‟ll drift that way.”
“Not so fast.” Pinot abandoned his tray and trotted after her. “I‟m coming. Odette will skewer me if anything happens to you. Besides, I want to eavesdrop a little.”
Eva turned to forestall him.
But Pinot pointed ahead of them. “No time to argue. He‟s getting away!”
“Gaetano!”
Gaetano Patrizzi stood at the large casement window at the front of the Palazzo Nuovo‟s Great Hall, twisting the gold ring on his smallest finger and watching Eva escape. Two stories below, the equestrian statue of Emperor Marcus Aurelius sat upon a pedestal in the center of the piazza, glinting in the wavering torchlight. Two figures scurried past it along the black and white trapezoidal pavement.
Evangeline and her strange little gnome were departing the Pretender Gala on foot.
When he eventually wed her, Gaetano planned to make sure that cretin disappeared from her entourage, forcibly if necessary. And she wouldn‟t be dancing or consorting with his nemesis—Lord Fucking Dane Satyr—any longer, or his brothers either.
Having spotted her, Gaetano had intended to follow her like a bee after honey, but now it appeared he was to be waylaid by the very last person he felt like conversing with. His mother, Serafina.
“Gaetano, I‟m speaking to you,” she said in her imperious way.
“Yes, what is it?” Behind them, the musicians played on, and the din of conversation was deafening. But here in this nook, they could be clandestine in their discussion.
“You‟ve been impossible to find recently.” Standing with her back to the window he faced, she leaned toward him. “Sergio has complained that our charges are growing restless. He requires fresh serum. Why haven‟t you gathered more olives to make it?”
Anger surged in him, and suddenly he was glad at the news he was going to deliver. He turned her way, wanting to see her face when he told her. “Because I lost the grove.”
“What?”she asked blankly.
He folded his arms and lounged a shoulder against the glass, taking pleasure in turning the knife. “I lost it. In a game of cards.” And now the final stab. “To Dane Satyr.” Her face mottled, and she could only stare at him. Rendering her speechless for once made him feel powerful.
A sharp pinch came at his ribs and he yelped. “Damn it all, Mother!”
“If we were alone, I‟d slap you as well,” she told him, unrepentant.
“This could ruin us, you worthless cur. Oh, why was I cursed with such a son?”
His hands fisted at his sides. He was the one who‟d been cursed.
She had much to pay for. One of these days. .