Of Heirs and Havoc ✔️ | Of Crimes and Crowns Book 2

twenty-five : of deceit and dances

The chandeliers shone nearly as brightly as his sister's smile, Francisco noted as he smoothly took the tray from a maid with a wink, and entered the drawing room. It was well-lit, contrasting sharply against the diamond-studded swath of velvet that was the night sky. In addition to the candles in the chandeliers, there were torches placed in scones around the room to ward off the swarms of mosquitoes that otherwise would have entered the room through the open windows and doors leading to balconies and alcoves. They were for trysting, as well as in the hopes of venting the room, which was packed with the island's elite. He moved towards the most renowned of those elite now, tray still in hand.

"So, you are serving beverages now? Will you be shining your own shoes next, brother?" Celeste tittered. The crowd of suitors orbiting her laughed as well. He could find no merriment in her eyes however; he could see only chastisement for not fully carrying out their plan in the manner which they had agreed to.

Francisco ignored the charade and began passing out drinks. "I would go to any lengths to ensure my sister's prospects of marriage are nothing but the best," he lied as Celeste took a flute of wine from the platter. "And never do you allow me near you, accusing me of embarrassing you with my affectionate brotherly antics."

"Antics such as these are the reason I never wish for you to meet my suitors," she quipped, before taking a swig of wine and purposefully spilling the red beverage on her dress. "Oh dear!"

Francisco saw indifferently that one of the men who had rushed to her aid had less than honourable intentions, seeing as his hands were roving towards her backside rather than her bodice where the stain would be. Celeste skillfully extricated herself from the lustful noble's grip with a saucy grin, fetching one of her ladies in waiting to assist her. She fluttered her fan behind her back, the signal they had agreed upon for Francisco to follow her within the hour.

He checked the time on the grandfather clock. There was still three quarters left before the clock struck eleven; he had quite a bit of time, and he knew precisely what to do with it. Francisco made his way around the room unencumbered now, hands in his pockets, nodding at the few gentlemen here and there that he recognized and could abide speaking with—most of the men whom he made conversation with were generally hoping he would put in a good word for them with his sister. He never did, unless they were massively wealthy, incredibly powerful, or a combination of both. It wasn't that he was seeking the riches and command for himself—rather that he knew his sister enjoyed manipulating men who believed themselves incredibly entitled to whatever they pleased, and enjoyed challenging them. As well, the richest and most powerful men generally had the darkest secrets and most nefarious ways of gaining their control and wealth.

He contemplated this as he moved throughout the drawing room, surveying the familiar surroundings with a fresh eye... looking for Victoria. A cluster of young ladies in elegant gowns giggled when he walked by them, but he took no notice of them. He peered behind billowing white curtains, strode around corners of the room, and finally felt a delicate tap on his shoulder just as the music began to shift into a slow waltz. Francisco turned around with a grin.

"Victoria." He offered her his arm, drinking her in with his eyes. "I must confess that I have been looking for you for the entirety of this night."

"Truly?" She raised a dark brow, a grin playing at the corners of her mouth. "Because I was looking for you for a lesser amount of time, and I only saw you enter the room an hour ago."

"The night is young," he quipped. "It has only been an hour since the sun set, and I have been in pursuit of you for that entire hour."

They had made their way to the marbled floor now, where couples were dancing. Her green eyes peered up at him from beneath her fringe of dark eyelashes, her smile full-blown now and no longer coy. "Would you care to dance, Isko?"

Her hands rested on his suit coat-clad shoulders, his at her waist, the warmth of her skin seeping into his through her silken gown. Francisco could see the golden light refracting off of her jewels: glancing off of the ropes of pearls at her throat, and the emeralds dangling from her ears. The cuffs and collar of her dress were embroidered richly in ochre thread, forming floral patterns against the green silk. Victoria's head seemed to be somewhere other than the music of the waltz and the lights of the room, however, her gaze fixed on a point approximately two inches above his shoulder.

"A diamond for your thoughts, Tori?" He jested, twirling her in time to the rhythm of the violin quartet.

She laughed, apparently breaking from her daze. "My thoughts are hardly worth such a great deal."

"You would be correct." He leaned closer, his mouth brushing her jaw, indecently close for such a public space. "Every part of you is priceless to me."

• • •

"Ivan Estrada," Celeste named one of her suitors, her voice slightly muffled behind the changing screen. Her soiled gown had been discarded in a crumpled pile of white satin on the floor. "He has two shipments coming in the harbour tomorrow night, at seven."

She emerged with her hair in an elaborate knot, a butterfly pin stabbed into the waves, and a fresh scarlet dress draping her slender figure. Celeste made her way to the dressing table and began powdering her face as she spoke. "The ships will be carrying gunpowder, silk, and spices from Xiangjin. Two men will be on watch."

"Thank you, sister." He gave her a kiss on the cheek despite her protests about him smearing her cosmetics. "I will put that information to good use."

"Keep your promises, brother." She levelled a warning look at him. "Or I will not live up to mine."

Francisco swallowed, and left before she did. Heart pounding, palms sweating even as he straightened, even as he marched down the hall with his back stiffly straight, his shoulders pushed back with false confidence. He snatched a non-discreet servant's cloak before unlatching and pushing open a back door before heading out into the humid, dark night.