Page 20 of Venus in Disguise

“Really, my lord,” Mrs Travers protested. “I believe you may have broken my toe.”

“Oh, no! Surely not,” the earl protested earnestly. “It was only a glancing blow and—”

“You stepped on my toe, my lord!” the lady insisted.

Ash was about to intervene when he noticed the woman who had shrunk behind the earl’s bulky form, trying her best to make herself invisible. Some hope she had of that, when the gown she wore moulded to every splendid inch of her. The soft turquoise made her wide blue eyes appear a truly startling shade, the kind of endless blue only seen on the most perfect summer days.

“Lady Narcissa, I hope you were unhurt in the scuffle,” he said politely as Mrs Travers leaned heavily on the earl and made a deal more fuss than Ash thought strictly necessary. He wondered if she had a mind to make herself a countess with her next marriage. If so, he wished her luck.

“I was, thank you,” Narcissa said, her cheeks blazing with mortification. He wondered at that, for the incident was hardly her fault. Everyone knew the earl had two left feet and rarely danced, for incidents of this nature were not uncommon.

“Come, my dear, I shall escort you to a quiet corner and make you comfortable. A nice glass of champagne and a little something sweet will set you to rights, you’ll see,” the earl said kindly, guiding the lady from the floor. “Anson, please continue the dance with Lady Narcissa and look after her, there’s a good fellow. You don’t mind, my dear?” he asked Narcissa belatedly, but did not wait for her answer, moving Mrs Travers out of the way of the dancers with far more skill than he’d showed whilst taking part.

“Fate has a sense of humour, it appears,” Ash remarked, smiling at Narcissa.

She did not return the smile, her posture taut. “Fate,” she whispered softly. “Fate is no laughing matter.”

Ash frowned, moving closer. “Come, dance with me. Everyone is staring.”

He took her in his arms, though her movements seemed mechanical, her gaze far away, as if she were not there at all.

“What is it?” he asked. “What has happened?”

“Nothing but what I always knew would happen,” she said dully. “My father is choosing my husband. You probably just spoke to him. I shall find out, I suppose, in a few weeks.”

“Wishen?” Ash said sharply, hardly able to believe his ears. “He’s sixty if he’s a day!”

“He’s an earl, one with impeccable lineage, and he needs an heir now his fool son has got himself killed. He is also a kind man. I could do worse,” she said, though her voice quavered, proving she was not half so sanguine as the words might seem.

“If the bridegroom were a corpse, perhaps,” Ash said savagely. “How can your father— But what am I saying? Of course, the duke would choose you such a husband. What would he care for your feelings, for your happiness? You’re only his daughter, after all.”

She smiled at that, a wan expression that made his heart clench. “I have always known my father viewed us all as chess pieces, to be moved about and played as suited him best, but I had pride enough to believe I was a piece with some value. A knight, perhaps, or even a bishop. I was wrong,” she said sadly. “We are all of us pawns, and he’ll sacrifice us without a second thought if he thinks we are no longer of any use to him.”

“My lady,” he began, not knowing what he would say but wishing to take that bleak expression from her eyes.

“No. Don’t be kind to me, please,” she begged him, tears threatening as her voice trembled. “I shall make a spectacle of myself, and that I cannot do. I ought not be dancing with you. Mrs Chandler said I must not even speak with you, and now… she’ll be so cross, only the earl told me to, and—”

“Hush now,” Ash said sharply, for her eyes were glittering, her cheeks flushed, and he very much feared she would lose her composure. “Take a deep breath and steady yourself.”

She did as he told her, as Ash surreptitiously guided her towards the far end of the ballroom, away from where he had first seen Mrs Chandler that evening. He was hardly surprised to hear the woman had warned her off and demanded she not speak to him. Ash glanced down at her, relieved to see she had gathered herself and seemed relatively calm, if pale. “The dance will end shortly, when it does, you go directly through that door on the right there. Turn left and keep going until you come to an atrium. Then open the second door on your right. I’ll come and find you presently.”

She stared up at him, wide-eyed.

“It will be all right, I promise. No one will know,” he assured her, even as his pulse thrummed with a combination of fury and anticipation. He was out of his tiny mind, but she needed a moment to gather herself and he… he needed time to think. The idea of this beautiful young girl married to that doddery old fool made his skin creep. Surely, she had other options. Every unmarried man here would likely cut off his right arm for the chance of a bride like her, and one with such wealth and breeding. There must be someone?

The dance ended, and Narcissa obediently went off in the direction he had showed her as Ash moved back through the crowd to find his twin.

“Viv,” he said, drawing her away from her husband. “I need your help. Watch my back, will you?”

Vivien gave him a sharp, suspicious glance. “Watch your—? Ashton, if you are having an assignation,” she said crossly, as he recognised the signs of her working herself up with righteous indignation.

“It’s not like that,” he said, his tone sharp enough to silence her. “Not this time, but it will look that way if anyone finds out. Please, Viv. I’ll be in the library. Just make sure I’m not disturbed.”

His twin let out a breath of annoyance, glaring at him. “Oh, drat you, Ash. What the devil are you up to now? Who is the damsel in distress?”

“That’s none of your affair. Just do as I ask. I’ll be in your debt,” he added with a smile.

“That you will,” Vivien replied caustically. “And I’ll have payment from you this time too, mark my words.”