[Before you enter the ballroom...would you like to be privy to a secret (chapter) that only the Agents are aware of? Last night Cain had a dream before he got dressed for the occasion at his friend's home, and if you would like to read it just 'follow' me and refresh your library. If you still can't find it then here is the link: https://www.wattpad.com/311252891-persuasion-in-the-pantry-maid-for-more-1-secret . The sensuous secrets of his mind awaits you...]
Cain swirled the cool punch in his crystal glass and wondered at the extravagance of his friends' home. Where Bexley Manor was crafted from marble and light, Wyvernstone Hall was one of mahogany and granite cut and placed with the harsh weathering of a gothic castle. It was an impressive structure made more lavish by the heavy draperies and jewel encrusted ornaments that its Duchess took pleasure in. Left to her own devices the house had become a statement of wealth rather than familial solace. However, for at least one night a year, there would be no shadows or solitary corners. Every window was illuminated with beeswax candles that reflected its warmth into the gardens beyond. Music swelled from room to room, soaring to the vaulted ceiling and seeping under doorways to fill the ancient home with the illusion of mirth. Even the liquid freezing Cain's palm was chilled to perfection with ice from the Duchess of Wyvernstone's personal vault. He imagined it to be in plentiful supply if it was anything like her heart. There was no love lost between mother and son, and the annual gathering was an amicable agreement to give the impression of a happy ducal family.
Cain's lips touched the frosted goblet and he sipped at the pleasant mixture of peach and lemon. Amid the floating swirls of lace that trailed around the seasons debutants like kite strings invitations to anyone inclined to take hold, he was consumed with the words of his Queen. Even more heavily, the warnings of the Crimson Guild Mistress wormed its way into his mind. His city was being overrun with the dealings of men and women whom he could not see and it irked him like nothing else. There was once a time when he could have named every Agent in his employ and know the exact status of each mission, unravelling the threads with the ease of a tailors trained hand. But, ever since Queen Victoria's ascension to the throne and her recent marriage, there were too many hands trying to grasp and clutch at power in any way they could. Something had to be done, and yet he was relegated to play dutiful son at a country gathering where nothing more glorious than an unhappy marriage was envisioned for him.
The dancing portion of the evening had begun and Cain furtively ignored the searching eyes of many matronly mothers all waiting to throw their daughters his way. He strode around the edge of the ballroom aiming for the card room at the far end with all the haste of a gunshot. At some point in the evening he had lost track of both his mother and his friend. It seemed unlikely that Jay would excuse himself from duties as a host despite how lamentable it must be to stand next to the Duchess of Wyvernstone in painful artifice, however it was far stranger that Cain's own mother would not latch on the opportunity to saddle him with some wide eyed debutant with even wider hips.
He had almost gained the periphery when an uncommon scuffle from the ballroom entrance caught his attention. Under the arches illuminated by several candelabras were several members of the ton all clucking characteristically in the direction of the open doorway. Cain's only concern was that such a group would soon be singed if they were to swell any more in numbers, but for a few brief seconds he glimpsed Jay's dark hair elevated over the heads of his guests.
Finally, Cain thought. He was not going to allow himself to be left to the prying talons of advantageous marriages whilst his best friend escaped unscathed.
He straightened his dinner coat and made his way back, skirting the many human obstacles in his path. However, for once none of them seemed to even notice his presence. It was one thing to be turned over in favour of the hosting duke, but quite another to be ignored all together, and Cain was not an admirer of the latter.
The throng around the doorway was growing steadily in number and Cain craned his neck around to assess what warranted such a commotion. Through arms akimbo and tilted heads he noticed that his mother was also present at the offending site and caution combined with intrigue to hasten his steps further. Soon he was within hearing distance but still unable to see much more without offending or groping certain illustrious individuals of the ton, so he waited and tuned his ears to the conversation behind the barricade of bodies.
"You have failed to introduce our guest, dear." The Duchess of Wyvernstone's voice sounded hard and Cain would have betted his best gun that she would have preferred the 'deer' she was conversing with to be roasted on a spit for supper.
"As always, you are unfailingly correct, Mother," Jay answered with perfect politeness. "It is perhaps the opportune moment to unveil our guest to all our friends."
"I am terribly sorry that she is late, but when you asked me to help prepare her, dear Camilla, it took a little longer than expected following her journey." Cain heard the amusement in his own mother's words and wondered at her involvement in the piece.
"Yes. I imagine it would." The Duchess of Wyvernstone's tone suggested that she recently discovered a viper's venomous glands located within her mouth.
Cain wondered at what would enrage her to a degree that would unravel her composure so much. In fairness, she probably sounded sedate to her audience but a trained ear could easily deduce her feelings.
It was Jay who took hold of the conversation and cleared his throat to address the awaiting throng. "It is my pleasure to introduce you all to my dearest cousin who I am now also infinitely proud to call my ward."
Cain thought he heard Jay's mother choke before she smoothly transitioned into delicate coughs. He peered through the crowd and glimpsed only the shimmering silver of another woman's gown.
The orchestra seemed to rise and fall with the words of their host, building with the plucks of harps and long strums of violins to add to Jay's impressive announcement. The flicker of candle flames lent their illumination and every single eye in the ballroom was trained on the cavernous entrance hall containing the form of a girl who was soon be the most gossiped, enamoured and reviled woman of the Season.
Jay must have moved forward with his ward because the crowd fanned out to make room. With bated breath they waited for further introductions and Jay did not disappoint. The music lulled momentarily and he raised his voice with pride as the young girl stepped out from beside him into the limelight. "Please welcome, Miss Verushka Anne Wyvernstone."
Breathe, just breathe, Verushka urged herself. You can do this. It's just a room... full of people you don't know... judging you. She searched the crowd for a friendly smile or a compassionate gaze but her quest was rendered fruitless by a sea of blank stares until she met the Duke of Bexley's emerald eyes.
Cain tracked Verushka as she shuffled forward with hesitation, her right hand still rested elegantly on the crease of the duke's arm. She was swathed in a silvery fabric which shone with all the lustre of the moon's glow, draped expertly over her slender form. Gloves to match extended from fingertips to her elbow, leaving only her shoulders and décolletage exposed. She glittered in the heated light with jewels that circled her neck and wrists, heightening the iridescent shine to her porcelain skin. When had her skin changed colour? Where were the earthy tones of the oven stones? Cain could almost make himself believe that it was someone else, but when he found her eyes they were wide and full of nervous wonder. He had gazed into those eyes for several nights, that he watched spark with anger and fall gently to the sound of his voice, and yet as she stood on his friend's arm, he felt as if he did not know her at all. Who was this maid, turned 'maiden' who stood so demurely before him?
His heart had seized at the mention of her name, and as she slowly moved further into her awaiting admirers, it had not released its hold of him. For a moment in time, he bathed in the joy of seeing her sweet face again, but confusion and chaos quickly came to torment him as she smiled and turned to his mother for assistance. It was as if the scene before him was enacted from a backwards version of 'She Stoops To Conquer,' that saw his maid led around to Jay's guests one by one and greet them with perfect manners previously never seen within a pantry.
A waltz began and the young Marquis of Elmsford stepped forth to claim her hand in a most chivalrous manner. Cain clenched his fist and swiftly decided that he despised the Marquis.
He watched stunned as his pantry maid was led to the floor and delicately swirled with the insufferable rake using manoeuvres which he had taught her only weeks before in his own ballroom. He analysed her with keen and penetrating eyes, ever watchful for the maid he knew to be hidden beneath. She seemed nervous at first, tentative almost by steps she only knew in theory but then the Marquis leaned in and whispered something in her ear that caused a soft burst of laughter to brighten her features and pour into her eyes.
Cain had always felt that Elmsford was a particularly pitiful part of the country.
The duke felt her presence as a betrayal. It was a deliberate concealment that wounded more than his pride. He could not help but think that all the time they had spent together, during the long hours by the fire and the melding of their lips, that she had said nothing. How she must have laughed at his expense and congratulate herself on a game well played! Cain reviled at his ravenous curiosity and tore his gaze from her form to go in search of his mother and ex-best friend.
Jay was surrounded by no less than two barons, one earl and several second sons who all stood eagerly listening to his rendition of a false family history. "And, so it was only natural that after my Uncle Edwards unfortunate passing that cousin Verushka should come to live with me here as my ward," Jay explained magnanimously.
"The Duchess of Wyvernstone is sure to be an excellent guide into the foray of ton life after such a secular upbringing," the wife of a portly baron commented, fishing for gossip.
Jay nodded sagely, risking a glance at his mother seething quietly in the corner and pretending she knew about his ward from the beginning. "Yes, Verushka is undoubtedly proud to call her family. However I am sure you will have observed Baroness that my mother is so keen on ensuring Verushka's safe entrance into society that she will often be overcome with worry. It is, I am told, such a strain to raise young girls with the right amount of care."
The Duchess of Bexley interjected a pleasant laugh. "As close neighbours and friend to the family, it is my happy duty to make certain that their young ward is not simply regaled with only the rigidity of her new position. After all, London in the Season is a joy not to be missed!"
Cain waited until his mother was distracted away by a cluster of clucking Mama's eager for more details on the latest competition for eligible men. When the crowd had sufficiently thinned, he approached his old friend's side with accusations that threatened to fly from his throat unchecked.
Jay turned to him before he halted and smiled uncharacteristically. "Ah, Cain I was just telling Rupert here that my ward prefers to be called Verushka instead of Anne. You are an aficionado on the whimsical changing of names so I assume you must concur that it is a preferable alteration."
Cain knew that his face was cold, hardened by the lies that were swirling around him. If Geoffrey were present there would be so much pig shit to pick up he wouldn't know where to start. With an effort borne from years of practice, Cain pushed aside his rage and the mantle of a consummate dandy took its place. "Well, after years of being known as Scot I can attest that keeping ones friends on their toes is an excellent tonic for ennui." He smiled with lips closed, knowing that a grin would only be a flash of predatory teeth.
"True, true," Rupert guffawed as he lifted his monocle to peer after the topic of their conversation.
Jay smiled congenially.
Cain was unimpressed by either of their banal conversation. Rather than continue to suffer through the obvious farce he grasped the pandering duke's forearm and tilted his head towards the servant's stairs. "Could I trouble you for a word, Jacob?"
"Of course," Jay replied as if they were about to discuss nothing more sinister than the weather.
Cain strode ahead of him, knowing exactly the secret handle that led within which served as a constant hiding spot in their youth. He should have known that on such a night the hallways would be busy with serving staff and his entrance had him facing off with a bustling fresh-faced lad. Cain glared menacingly in his direction which sent him scuttling hastily back out of sight.
"I would thank you not to threaten my staff," Jay requested dissatisfied.
"And who should I threaten?" Cain turned on his host. "What are you and my mother up to?"
Jay sighed deeply. "I had not considered this possibility. With everything else, the addition of you to this equation slipped my mind."
Cain stared at his friend like he had gone mad.
"Look, Cain. This is not the place to discuss this. Come to my study at dawn and I will fill you in as best as I can, but in all honesty I don't even think that I understand it as completely as I would like."
"You've got to know a damn sight more than me if you are taking my maid into your care! What game are you playing at Jacob?" Cain grated, crowding him in the confines of the tight corridor.
"A dangerous one," Jay whispered in the shadows. "I caution you to give nothing away, for all shall reveal itself in time. You have always trusted me Cain, why not now?"
"Perhaps because you have a member of my employ in your home. Remember Jay, I was always a better shot than you. I can spot a rat a mile away."
"Undoubtedly," Jay conceded. "But if you will also remember, what was your accuracy without my insight? As boys we succeeding in tormenting our households with antics that were both premeditated and precise, so I have to wonder if it is every maid in your employ that you are concerned about or just this one?"
Cain narrowed his eyes with righteous fury and prepared to fling barbs when another sound travelled up the cold tunnel.
"What do you mean you can't get past? Don't be an idiot Ollie, just get out of my way! I want to see what's happening. Urgh, ooh, ow! Mooove!" There was an eschewing scuffle and then Mina stuck her head out of the darkness into the light of the opening. "Oh...um, hello."
Cain frowned incredulously. "How many of my maids do you have here?"
Jay held his breath, his eyes seized upon his maid and lashed her gaze to his with palpable tension.
Whatever excuse Mina had, died in her throat, like a salmon in the jaws of a bear.
"Mina." The single name uttered held a cavernous wealth of meaning and Jay reached for her in haste.
Mina jumped with a yelp and scurried backwards into the darkness, before turning to run full hilt in the opposite direction.
Cain heard a soft thud followed by more running and could only assume that the other Bexley maid had collided unceremoniously with a wall. Turning to further interrogate his friend, he perceived a similar yearning that he recently found present in his own reflection. Cain gripped the collar of Jay's shirt as he attempted to race in Mina's direction and yanked him back towards the ballroom. "Easy there, Jacob. First we deal with my maid, and then we deal with yours."
~
Verushka glanced nervously around the glittering hall. She had questioned her life choices several times over the previous half hour without coming to any real conclusion. Since stepping onto the floor she had been cast into a whirlwind of partners through romantic waltzes, quadrilles and classical minuets. Men seemed to crawl out of the woodwork, like the termites in the storehouse last May, for the chance of meeting the 'Wyvernstone ward.' She was passed from one hand to the other with whispers and promises hovering somewhere between compliments and queries. It was difficult trying to keep up with the conversations as well as parry wits while remembering dance routines and Verushka knew that she had only managed to evoke the image of a shy, polite and refrained young girl. However, the Duchess of Bexley was accurate in her estimation that such a display would suffice, since most of the ton valued those characteristics above all else.
After only one brief glimpse of the Duke of Bexley he had disappeared into the gathering crowd. If past behaviour was anything to go by, he should have marched staunchly to her side demanding to know the whole unlikely tale. But despite craning her neck over her partner's shoulders she could not spot his toned physique or kind green eyes. Although, it dimly occurred to her that he might not recognise her without her usual film of grease. Her supposed benefactor had also disappeared and only the Duchess of Bexley lingered at the periphery, smiling encouragingly and keeping the Wyvernstone Duchess at bay. It had been a tense moment when she had stood between the two matriarchs, telling herself to 'breathe,' and was surprised to have escaped unscathed. She almost expected Jay's stepmother to reveal her true identity to the crowd as a maid, and to him as his sister but she noted the calculation in the Wyvernstone woman's eyes that had made her hesitate. Revenge was a dish she served with regularity and Verushka knew she would have to watch her step to avoid the same fate as her mother.
The last strains of the orchestra signalled the end of the movement and Verushka withdrew from her dance partner, the Earl of Norfolk while politely applauding the cellist.
"Please allow me to escort you back to the Duchess of Wyvernstone, Miss," he offered her his arm gallantly.
"Oh, thank you very much Lord Norfolk, however I would be most grateful for a glass of punch." Verushka recited the phrase she had been taught almost verbatim. The Earl seemed pleased with any opportunity to extend their acquaintance and smiled appreciatively while redirecting her towards the beverage table.
Verushka did wonder why it was considered unacceptable for a young lady to fetch her own punch, but for whatever reason it seemed too taxing a task to allow a girl to complete alone. For the most part of the evening, men had been all too eager to fetch and carry things for her and it made for an interesting turn of events. Verushka almost laughed, if only they knew that beneath the fancy clothes and trinkets beat the heart of a pantry maid.
"I must confess, it has been most intriguing meeting you, Miss Wyvernstone," Lord Norfolk tilted his lips with all the charm he possessed, which in comparison to her employer wasn't very much. It did occur to Verushka that it did not take a lot to intrigue men of the ton. All she had said to the earl was 'hello' and then nodded politely to everything he said during the course of their dance. Ordinarily she would have revealed a little more of her true colours, but when faced with her first ball she was more preoccupied with not falling on her arse. To the earl she was little more than a pretty face and a massive dowry, thanks to Jay's sense of noblesse oblige.
She did not hint at her private thoughts and instead responded with a genteel smile. "It has been most pleasant meeting you too, Lord Norfolk."
"I would be delighted to show you around town this Season, and please, call me Simon." He handed her a fragile glass filled with rose liquid.
Verushka accepted it carefully, grateful that she did not have to wash the exquisitely cut crystal. "I do not believe we know each other well enough for that, Lord Norfolk."
"Perhaps not yet, but I imagine that a short duration of time will rectify that," the Earl persisted while taking the liberty of caressing her wrist as he released the glass.
Verushka had her own ideas of how to rectify his behaviour but doubted that smashing the glass she held into his hook nose would have been considered proper. She tried to extract her fingers delicately but the earl took it upon himself to hold her fast beneath his prying hands. "Trust me, Verushka."
"Trust you?" A familiar husky voice settled upon her like a winter's cloak. Sturdy, strong and warm. Her heart raced beneath her cool exterior.
"Why on earth would she trust an inveterate gambler such as yourself, Norfolk?" Cain masked his abhorrence with cordial perplexity.
"Well, I never!" Lord Norfolk started, appalled. "That is devilishly ungentlemanly of you, Bexley."
Cain stepped between the pair and placed Verushka's palm protectively within the crook of his elbow. "And rather ungentlemanly of you to address Miss Wyvernstone thusly, in her own home no less."
"I, well, uh," the Earl spluttered unattractively.
"Come now," Cain grinned easily and held out his palm to grasp the Earls, but Verushka noticed the other man wince at the gesture. "Let us not quarrel on such a glorious evening."
Lord Norfolk nodded hastily and excused himself with alarming speed, leaving the Duke of Bexley alone with his maid. He had a great many things to say to her but the voyeuristic eyes of the ton were upon them, scrutinising their encounter with eager anticipation.
Verushka's pulse quickened at the touch of his body against hers. They were only arm in arm, not entangled behind a bread oven but in the presence of the ton it made the embrace all the more poignant. Her throat closed, tightening her chest with the warm woody scent of his cologne. It was the smell of sensual anticipation rubbed against skin, and it bombarded her usually pragmatic mind.
"Miss Wyvenstone," Cain addressed her with soft inflection, perpetuating the tension with the subtle timbre of his voice.
"Your Grace." Verushka dipped into a halfway curtsy as was proper. She would have preferred to stare at his polished shoes for far longer than necessary if it meant escaping the tempest in his eyes. She needed to think, to plan and plot the best course of action. However, she could not avoid his gaze forever and rose to view her employer for the first time as his equal.
Cain, Duke of Bexley would always take her breath away. Sometimes purely because he made her want to scream at him, but in that moment it was for something far less tangible. His body was poured into the finest of silks, covered completely in creams and ivories rather than the traditional black. He wore waistcoat and tails were soft as brushed velvet and buttoned with opal stones like the frothy finish to a glass of champagne. It was perhaps, a dress of fancy and flippancy worn only by the most fashionable of dandy's but beneath it she observed strained muscle pulled taut with resilience. His shoulders were strong and his arms rigid under layers of patterned cloth, and despite his cocky swagger she could feel the steady beating of his pulse. This was a man who was not to be trifled with. He was sin wrapped in silk.
Her lessons in observation opened new doors to her now and she saw the duke in a fresh light, perhaps for the first time ever. He may not have been an Agent or a soldier, but he was also more than just a rake.
"I would be honoured if you would join me for the next dance, Miss," Cain asked kindly under flashes of jade.
"Ah, I believe I am spoken for the next," Verushka hesitated as she spotted another gentleman coming to claim her as promised. She sought the escape that an uncomplicated partner provided, however the approaching man ambled far too leisurely in his pursuit to be of service.
"Wonderful, let us proceed." Cain ignored her resistance and directed her towards the assembled couples.
"Um, Cain," she whispered, pulling back against his grip, "I don't think that Mr Mansfield would appreciate your interference."
"Well, Ver," Cain growled out of the corner of his mouth, "Mr Mansfield can go hang himself for all I care. You and I will be dancing here and now, or later and in my chambers." He stood still in the middle of the assembly and arched an eyebrow her way. "You decide."
Verushka hated his imperiousness and his stupidly attractive eyebrow ring, but she duly shut her mouth and faced her partner as the sounds of the Vienesse Waltz began to fill the room. Cain placed his palm at her back and encased the other in his own until the beat took hold. He thrummed with unspent energy that reverberated through her bones, crumbling her resolve to remain indifferent. It had not escaped her memory that the last time they had spoken it had ended in a quarrel and an indecent proposition, but the middle of her brother's ballroom seemed a pretty poor place to bring it up again.
The delicate bubbling notes rose swiftly to counter the clenching of Cain's jaw as they stared at one another in strained silence. He moved with her across the floor in sweeping rotary turns, seamlessly from one to the next, until the fluidity of their feet lifted their spirits. They twirled between the other couples as structured footwork bled into rhythmic joy and Verushka could not help but lean back in his arms and enjoy the world as it spun. In a night full of new experiences, dancing in her duke's embrace was a treasured comfort from the past. Of all the dances they could have encountered, the Viennese Waltz was the closest to the un-choreographed spinning they had shared in the afternoon light of the Bexley townhouse.
Cain had to admit that when he took his maid in hand it had been to scrutinize the plot of her placement at the ball. However, once he had her pressed next to him as far as propriety would allow, all he could think was that it had been over a week since he had seen her last. It had been several days since he had heard her laugh or touched her course skin, now covered in yards of material. And, suddenly after all that time yearning for her presence, they were moving together and the world seemed to fade away. He heard nothing, not the sound of goblets tinkering or the swells of the pianoforte, just the beating of his heart inches away from her own.
The scene of the Duke of Bexley and his best friend's ward made quite a spectacle and rumours travelled swiftly behind cupped palms for the duration of the brief song. When the music eventually ebbed, guiding the couples to a close, Cain's face hardened as pleasure receded and he was faced with the perplexing matter of Verushka's betrayal once more. He has promised Jay that he would wait for an explanation and he intended to honour his word in the face of obvious difficulties.
Verushka was left to wonder at his silence and wet her lips nervously as Cain escorted her back to his mother's side. "Cain," she called before they reached the others, "why don't you say something?"
"What would you like me to say Miss Wyvernstone? Perhaps compliment you on the trim of your gown, or your dancing prowess? Or should I inquire about your well-being following your father's failing health?" He stopped brusquely a few feet from their destination and gripped her wrist swinging her to face him. "Or why are you not in my pantry where I left you?!"
Verushka gulped at the lethal ferocity in his eyes. "Umm..."
"I beg you to forgive me if I find 'um' a less than satisfactory answer," he mocked before completing the last few steps to where the Duchess of Bexley held court near a potted ficus.
"Mother." He approached the nest of females with his usual charming nonchalance. "Look who I found milling around the dance floor alone."
"Son, I hardly think that Miss Wyvernstone was alone seeing as I watched Lord Royston hand her into the care of the Earl for their minuet."
Cain narrowed his eyes. "A trifling detail."
Verushka stood quietly to the side and wondered if she should contribute to the discussion although she had nothing particularly helpful to contribute. There were far too many secrets coiling around them. Jay knew her only as a maid and spy, while his mother could have outed her as his bastard sister but nothing more, meanwhile Cain was under the assumption she was just a maid. If lies were fumes they all would have asphyxiated long ago.
The Dowager Duchess of Bexley sniffed disapprovingly and turned to the woman on her right. "Allow me to introduce Miss Verushka Wyvernstone to you. Verushka this is Lady Hiltern and her two daughters Patricia and Nicolette."
The ladies made their curtseys and animosity was clear towards the new debutant vying for the duke's affections. Lady Hiltern was the first to cast forth her lure. "Your Grace, have you been acquainted with Miss Wyvernstone long?"
Cain's mouth tilted in an effervescent smile. "Oh, we lend each other books, share meals and there are times I feel as if we almost live under the same roof." He finished off his answer with a chuckle to soothe the biting edge of truth.
"Yes, although her father had her sequestered in the country, we have recently had the opportunity to make up for lost time, especially as the Wyvenstones' are such attentive neighbours," the Duchess covered quickly. "It is our greatest pleasure to help Miss Wyvernstone in her first London Season."
"You plan to join the Season?" Patricia piped up critically.
"Well, I had hoped..." Verushka trailed off.
"You will forgive my eldest, it is just a little uncommon for one of such an age to be, well, a debutant," Lady Hiltern hedged.
Verushka did not think that Anne's real age of eighteen was particularly matronly but even if it was, it would have been unkind of the Hilterns to mention it. Certainly most ladies had their first Season at sixteen, but if they knew her true age they would likely faint from shock. The Hilterns looked like females who would expire from that sort of thing.
"My father did not care for me to be apart from him, Lady Hiltern. I did not think it prudent to leave his sickbed for something as trivial as London's Season, but I defer to your greater knowledge of society affairs," she blended the sour with the sweet and waited for the consummate gossips reaction.
"Oh, well, yes, I. Of course your behaviour was admirable, my dear. However, you will have to work twice as hard to make your presence felt. My girls can help you find your way, they are considered society darlings, aren't they Catherine?"
The Duchess of Bexley grinned. "Most definitely, this must be their fourth Season now. We are so lucky that they just keep returning over and over again before settling down."
Cain bit his lip to stop from laughing. Verushka appeared to be halfway between telling the obnoxious woman what she thought of her and trying desperately to adhere to whatever rules his mother must have stuffed her with. He made a decision in that moment to use his ducal power to smooth the transition of Verushka's mysterious existence as much as he could. For some unfathomable reason she was now a debutant and he could not bear to see others bully her spirit into submission.
Although she may not have needed his help, the ton could be an entangling burden and he would have rather seen her fly free. "Miss Wyvernstone." He faced his maid once more. The name still felt odd on his tongue. "Would it be presumptuous of me to request your hand for a second dance?"
Verushka frowned at him as if he had taken leave of his senses, unable to deduce his actions. It was improper to stand up with her twice in such quick succession as he was sure to know. Was he trying to ruin her before she even came out? Well she certainly would not let him, she resolved stubbornly. She had an assassin to root out and a brother to impress all while wearing a device that crushed her lungs.
"Yes, it would be exceptionally presumptuous." The Duchess of Bexley flatly answered. "Particularly since you have already stolen one dance away from Mr Mansfield with no remorse. Miss Wyvernstone's dance card is full for tonight."
Cain did not take his eyes from Verushka's, stirring the same heat they had ignite in the pantry as he bowed low over her hand and brushed his lips above her knuckles, softened by silk. "Perhaps, tomorrow then."
"What is happening tomorrow?" Jay questioned with interest as he approached.
"I am dancing with your ward," Cain answered as he straightened.
"Are you now?" Jay asked with raised brow.
"I believe I am," Cain smirked. "Twice."
Lady Hiltern began to fan herself furiously and make odd choking noises. Their single conversation held enough grist to run her gossip mill for the rest of the country affair.
"What do you say, Verushka? Although it is highly unprecedented to consent to dances before the next ball has been announced, but if you wish to share another with my son, then by all means, speak up." The Duchess of Bexley included her maid who had been quietly seething at being talked about while she stood present.
Cain stared down at Verushka with a heat that could have burnt down the bread oven, and behind his right shoulder her brother clenched his jaw with his own equivocal ice. Neither appeared to be very impressed by the direction of the conversation and while the first could rot in hell before he saw her cornered, the good opinion of the latter was a prize she still sought. It would not do to cause a stir on her first night out, but she was also not a fan of throwing her personality out the Wyvernstone windows.
"I thank you, Your Grace, but frankly I would rather eat my own hat than consent to another one of your particular offers!"
Jay's eyebrows hit the roof, Lady Hiltern grabbed wildly for the support of the potted plant and the Bexley Duchess hung her head to hide a reluctant smile.
"Well, it is a good thing you are not wearing a hat, isn't it?" Cain countered easily, oozing charm from every pore.
"I could get one," Verushka couldn't help but grumble back.
The Hiltern siblings finally clocked on that something strange was occurring before them and stood with mouths agape.
"Until then, I shall consider myself safe," Cain whispered conspiratorially, as if they were playing an amusing game. She wondered how was it possible for one man to so infuriate and excite her.
A man behind Verushka cleared his throat, preventing a continuation of the debate. "Excuse me, Miss Wyvernstone, Thomas Beuford here. If I am not mistaken, it is time for our quadrille."
Verushka spun to afford him her full attention. "Oh, Mr Beuford, I am delighted to see you again. The night has been quite unbearable without your company." She had only said it to irritate her previous employer but the excitement her words sparked in her dance partner almost sent her running in the opposite direction. She was still learning the delicate art of flirtation versus friendship and she was afraid that she tipped the scales incorrectly. Verushka winced at what scathing retort that would earn her from Liara later. With a final glare at the duke she turned on her slippered heel and followed Thomas Beuford to the floor.
Jay watched his newly acquired ward be led off by yet another suitor. One thing was certain, she was not short of partners on her first night out in society.
"Care to tell me what that was about?" he whispered discreetly to Cain.
"No," Cain responded simply. "Care to tell me about Mina?"
"No," Jay echoed.
"Then you probably wouldn't be interested to hear that I recently saw her nose pressed to your patio window," Cain bated his friend.
Jay's eyes flickered like an iron flint. "If you will excuse me Cain, I believe I shall take a stroll in the pursuit of some fresh air."
"You do that, Jay," Cain laughed under his breath. "I'll watch over your ward."
The Duke of Wyvernstone paused in his retreat and looked back warily over one shoulder. "In the interim before our meeting, I would advise you to leave Verushka alone. There is no summit to be conquered there."
Cain's gaze turned wary and he approached his friend once more in hushed tones. "Do you mean to say that you truly take responsibility for the girl?"
Jay issued one firm nod. "I have given her my name and all the protection that it brings."
Cain frowned knowing that dawn could not come soon enough. He inclined his head once and the mask of the dandy fell back into place.
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A/N:
Thank you to everyone who has been so patient with updates for this story. I hope that you will have enjoyed part 1 of this chapter. Part of me is appalled at the pitiable amount of mystery in this chapter, especially knowing what is coming up but romance is all part and parcel of intrigue. Hope you are enjoying how Verushka and Cain's relationship is blossoming amidst the chaos.
The video link above is a sample of the beautiful Viennese Waltz which Ver and Cain danced.
Thanks for letting me know who your favourite duke is! The winner at the moment seems to be Jay but Cain holds a steady second and Marco third. I have a feeling that the scales will tip in Cain's favour very soon! For now would love to know who your favourite maid is?? Is it the voracious reader Verushka, the mischievous Mina, or the licentious Liara?
Glossary:
Noblesse oblige is a French phrase literally meaning "nobility obliges". It denotes the concept that nobility extends beyond mere entitlements and requires the person who holds such status to fulfil social responsibilities, particularly in leadership roles.
She Stoops to Conquer is a comedy by Oliver Goldsmith that was first performed in London in 1773. It is one of my favourite plays and is essentially about a man named Marlow who prefers working-class women, finding them less intimidating than women of high society. The heroine, Kate realises she will have to pretend to be 'common' to get Marlow to woo her. Thus Kate 'stoops to conquer', by posing as a maid, hoping to put Marlow at his ease so he falls for her. If you haven't seen it, then I suggest you check it out!