John Osborne has a promising career with the War Office and lacks for nothing. Except, possibly, a wife. Unfortunately, the woman he wants only has eyes for someone else. When a shared friend offers to help him win his love's heart--if only he will...
"I think we might only observe tonight," John finally said.
"Anything you wish," Hayes said with a little chuckle, probably amused by their apparent shock. "Have a look around. And if you have any questions, come find me. I am nothing if not your gracious host."
After a quick bow and a wink, the tall man returned to the other party-goers, joining a group of men and women on the dance floor. Mary watched him bend down to kiss the cheek of a blond lady. There was still no sign of Jane. Were her assumptions of where her sister was wrong? Or did Jane know better than to take part in these events?
"We should mingle," John said but made no attempt to move.
A giggling couple snuck out through the open doors to the terrace outside, and Mary wasn't sure she wanted to know what they planned to do alone in the darkness. Everywhere she looked, people seemed to be kissing or touching in ways that would not be permitted at a respectable establishment. Excitement mingled with horrified fascination as she noted that the man and woman on the bench were now bare-chested, their hands and lips exploring each other's bodies.
That this was not her typical house party might have been the understatement of the century. This was what she imagined the brothels and gambling dens in London's underbelly were like. To see this behaviour in a familiar setting like this seemed so odd to her. And yet she couldn't stop staring.
Would she ever experience a man touching her like that? It seemed unlikely. Did husbands and wives even touch each other in such a way or was this considered immoral even for the marriage bed? She wished she knew. A tingling sensation spread through her as the man on the bench captured the woman's nipple between his teeth.
Next to her, John cleared his throat, breaking her from her trance, and her cheeks heated as she glanced up at him. Was she imagining it, or was his neck a little more red than usual? Saying nothing, he offered her his arm again, and she took it, following him through the ballroom with a lingering look at the couple on the upholstered bench. They appeared lost to the world as if they had forgotten anyone else was present. It was difficult to imagine being so caught up in another person that you'd forget yourself completely.
They drifted through the ballroom, trying not to stop too long or stare too hard at anyone present. Finally, they stopped at the refreshment table. John poured them two glasses of punch, handing her one, before turning to look out over the gathered guests.
"This is quite something," he said conversationally, but there was a quality to his voice she couldn't quite place.
"That is quite an understatement." She took a sip of her drink only to nearly spit it back out, as it was more liquor than anything else. Forcing herself to swallow, her eyes watered and her throat burned from the heavy drink.
John chuckled. Whether it was because of her quip or her choking on the punch, she did not know. Putting the glass back down on the table, she readjusted the mask covering the upper half of her face. It wasn't as uncomfortable as she had feared, but kept drooping on one side.
"Is it coming off?" John asked.
"No, only sliding a little. I'm not sure I managed to tie it tight enough."
Without a word, he nudged her forward to stand behind her. A little flustered from feeling the heat of his body behind her, she stared at a lit candle across the room, focusing on the flickering flame.
"Hold it for a moment," he said, his voice closer than she had expected as his hot breath tickled her bare neck, sending goosebumps across her flesh.
Lifting her hands to secure the mask, she swallowed, trying to ignore the dull thud of her heart when his fingers brushed across the hair above her ears to pull the ribbons closer. A moment later, she felt the bands tighten as he tied them at the back of her head. His hands lingered a moment longer than necessary before falling back to his sides.
"There," he muttered. "That should do, but it might be worthwhile to use hairpins to secure it better tomorrow."
"Th... Thank you." Why did her voice waver? She shouldn't react like this to John. Refusing to look at him, she continued to stare out over the ballroom. He was dull John Osborne. The man in love with her best friend. If she was ever to find herself attracted to a man, it definitely should not be to this one.
Without meaning to, her eyes searched for the couple on the upholstered bench, but they had disappeared to be replaced by two men chatting animatedly. Had they snuck away to a more private location to finish what they started? Whatever that might entail. She worried her bottom lip with her teeth as she pondered what the next steps could be. It was so unfair how women were kept in the dark about what happened behind closed doors.
"Any sign of your sister?" John asked.
"No. If she's here tonight, I have not seen her." She hoped that was a good thing, but she had her doubts.
John swept his gaze over the room. "Everyone seems suitably foxed and preoccupied. Now might be a good time to do some exploring."
Her cheeks heated as she immediately thought of the man and woman who had been exploring each other's bodies. Focus, Mary. Focus. That is not the type of exploring he's referring to.
When he extended his hand towards her, she frowned.
"If anyone sees us leave, they will think we're sneaking away for a tryst," he clarified when she didn't immediately take it.
"Right." Of course. That made sense. She took his hand, and he linked his fingers with hers and pulled her with him out of the room. His grip was tight, but not painful, and his hand warmed hers through the thin gloves.
"Let's see if we can find Hayes' study," he said. "Maybe there are some clues about your sister or the activities the War Office wants me to look into."
She nodded. Jane must have corresponded with Hayes to facilitate her escape from their home. If they found the letters, maybe they would shine a light on where her sister was and what she was thinking. They walked down a long hallway, and John released her hand to open doors and peer inside. Stretching her fingers out, she wondered why she missed his hand on hers. Maybe the strangeness of the evening was affecting her more than she had realised.
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