Arcane Entanglement (The Mage and His Brute #1)

Chapter 6

Lady Wentworth was introducing a beautiful brunette with large, doe-like blue eyes and perfect porcelain skin who’d been standing demurely a short distance away to Lord Fairfax.

“The man buried his wife two summers ago,” Ginny said between gritted teeth. “Now that witch wants to pawn the Miller girl off to him?!”

Ophelia Miller was the daughter of Baron Edward Miller, a member of the House of Lords known for his philanthropic work. Though it was her first season, Evander had no doubt it would be her last. She was without a doubt the current belle of London society.

He’d even heard of a wager at several clubs betting she would be off the marriage mart come the end of autumn.

“Surely there are gentlemen of more consequence that she could be introducing Miss Miller to?” Evander murmured.

“A rumour reached my ear last week,” Ginny said darkly. “Lord Fairfax will soon be coming into a considerable inheritance, courtesy of a dead aunt in Scotland. It seems that old hag heard it too.”

Evander swallowed a sigh. Old hag seemed a harsh, if appropriate term for Lady Wentworth. He glanced at his companion.

“Is that why you chose Fairfax as a potential business partner?”

“It wasn’t the only reason.” Ginny furrowed her brow. “I have it from a reliable source that he makes regular contributions to charities that offer aid to thralls. I believe he is someone who could be of benefit to our cause.” She stiffened, another unladylike curse tumbling from her lips.

The centre of the ballroom was clearing, the piano quartet preparing to perform the first of the evening’s dance music. Lady Wentworth was urging a beleaguered Lord Fairfax and an awkward-looking Miss Miller towards the emptying floor.

Ginny snapped her fan closed and shoved it in her reticule. “Time to save my future business partner.” She grabbed Evander’s hand and dragged him towards the battlefield, her face full of a single-minded determination he had seen far too many times before and that made him bite back a groan. “You take the girl.” She side-eyed Evander like he was the worst rake in London. “And do try not to break her heart, will you?”

Horror rounded Lady Wentworth’s eyes when Ginny barged into the middle of her attempts to browbeat Lord Fairfax onto the dance floor.

“Ah. There you are, Lord Fairfax.” Ginny placed herself squarely between her nemesis and her mark for the night. “I believe you promised me a dance.” She offered Fairfax her gloved hand.

Lord Fairfax blinked owlishly. Relief and gratitude filled his eyes in the next instant. “Indeed I did, Lady Hartley.” He murmured an apology to Lady Wentworth and Miss Miller, before whisking Ginny onto the dance floor.

Lady Wentworth opened and closed her mouth soundlessly, her face so puce Evander feared she would bust a blood vessel. The matchmaker twisted around and glowered at him like he was the one who’d stolen away Lord Fairfax.

Evander dipped his head politely. “Lady Wentworth. A pleasure as always.” He turned to the young woman beside her and bowed. “Miss Miller, Duke Evander Ravenwood at your service. Would you do me the honour of this dance?”

Miss Miller hesitated. She shot a worried look at her livid chaperone, came to a decision, and bobbed gracefully. “Of course, your Grace.”

Evander took her gloved hand and guided her expertly into a waltz under Lady Wentworth’s death stare and the hungry gazes of the assembled nobility.

Miss Miller slowly relaxed when her chaperone disappeared from view.

“You are very light on your feet, Miss Miller,” Evander said when they reached the other side of the ballroom.

Miss Miller blushed slightly. “So are you, your Grace.” Her gaze flitted to Ginny where she and Lord Fairfax were already engaged in a lively conversation as they spun around the dance floor. “Won’t Lady Hartley mind you dancing with me? I hear she is quite the fearsome woman.”

Evander blinked, surprised at her forthrightness. He studied the young woman in his arms with fresh eyes.

There was a glint in Ophelia Miller’s eyes and a certain set to her jawline that looked strangely familiar. He smiled when he recognised who she reminded him of.

“Lady Hartley and I are good friends.” He paused. “I believe the pair of you should get to know one another.”

It was Miss Miller’s turn to look astonished. “You do?”

Evander’s smile widened. “I think you may find that you have certain…things in common.”

“Oh.” Miss Miller blinked. Faint lines wrinkled her delicate brow. “I thought you were deliberately avoiding the marriage mart, your Grace.”

Evander tensed a little. “I am, Miss Miller.”

Miss Miller pursed her lips. “Then you should avoid flashing that smile at impressionable young ladies like myself. It is bad for our hearts, your Grace.”

Evander couldn’t help burst out laughing, the sound shocking Miss Miller as much as it seemed Ginny and the rest of the aristocrats who witnessed it.

Miss Miller recovered, giving Evander further grounds to believe she was not quite the innocent damsel she pretended to be.

“That laughter isn’t any better, your Grace.”

Evander chuckled at her chastising tone. “You and Ginny will most certainly hit it off. I pray you heed my advice.” He glanced around the ballroom before fixing his dance partner with a steady stare. “I apologise if this comes across as bold, but I daresay you may discover that there is more to life than this farce of a marriage mart.”

Miss Miller’s expression turned thoughtful.

“You are an interesting man, your Grace.”

“Pray, do not lose your heart to me, Miss Miller,” Evander teased, his mouth curving. “Or else my dear friend Lady Hartley will most definitely have my guts for garters.”

Miss Miller sighed. “There’s that lethal smile again, your Grace.”

The dance finished all too soon and Evander returned a reluctant Miss Miller to her near apoplectic chaperone. Ginny lifted a pair of drinks from a footman’s tray and whisked him towards the French windows before her archenemy could launch into a diatribe.

They stepped out into the cool evening air, the terrace empty but for the two of them. A muffled giggle came from the direction of the gardens as they rested against the stone balustrade.

Whoever was out there was likely engaged in an activity more interesting than eavesdropping.

“What was that about?” Ginny took a sip of her drink, her curious gaze on Evander’s face.

“Nothing much.” He turned and looked at the couples swirling around the ballroom. To his utter lack of surprise, Miss Miller had already found another partner. “Let’s just say Ophelia Miller is a much more fascinating young lady than she appears to be at first glance.”

Ginny raised an eyebrow. “Fascinating enough for you to develop an attraction for the fairer sex?”

“Gods no,” Evander protested. He faltered. “I hope you don’t mind, but I advised her to get in touch with you. I believe the two of you could become friends.”

Ginny’s mouth flattened to a thin line.

Her reputation precluded many close friendships in London high society. Bar Lady Ashbrooke and a handful of mutual acquaintances who knew better than to judge her from appearances, she didn’t have many female companions she could confide in.

“You have a nasty habit of sticking that pretty nose of yours where it doesn’t belong, your Grace,” Ginny said sourly.

Evander’s lips twitched. “You think my nose is pretty?”

Ginny rolled her eyes. “You are a delight from the top of your head to your toes. If it weren’t for your interest in lovers, I would have gobbled you up years ago.” She propped her back against the ledge and stared at him shrewdly over the rim of her glass. “So, how long has it been since you’ve had a nice, thick cock inside you?”

Evander almost spat out the mouthful of champagne he’d just taken. “Jesus, Ginny!” He looked around warily.

“Relax,” Ginny drawled. “The only one who heard us is that stone cherub over there. His mouth has failed to round in horror and his eyes have yet to fall out of his head.” Concern clouded her face. “Seriously though, you look like you could do with blowing off some steam.”