whirl. He hadn’t seen her so animated for years.
“Sorry,” he said blandly. “I can’t hear you.”
She let out a snort of irritation. “In that case, you look like hell. And the cut of your jacket is hideous.”
“It is not!”
“Aha! So you can hear me. You aren’t deaf in both ears. You’re just willfully ignoring me. Really, Sebastien, sometimes I think you use your injury as an excuse to avoid speaking to people you don’t wish to speak to.”
He didn’t bother to deny it. “I’m certainly deaf to insults. And stupid ideas.”
“You only hear what you want to hear,” she sniffed. “And there’s no need to be testy with me. You must see why I sent Anya with you. I was certain the two of you would get along famously. Was I mistaken?”
He didn’t miss the glitter of curiosity in her eyes. He glared at her. “Yes. You were. Completely. I only helped her out of duty.”
She seemed to deflate a little. “Hmm. Well, it’s my ball, and as the hostess’s close relative, it still behooves you to lead her out in the dancing. You’re an earl, aren’t you? She ought to have at least an earl for her first dance.”
He ground his teeth.
“If you won’t do it, I’ll ask Geoffrey—”
Seb growled.
Dorothea sent him a knowing smile. “Oh, never mind. Look, Prince Trubetskoi’s beaten you to it.”
Seb’s head snapped around. Sure enough, Anya was accepting the arm of her fellow countryman and letting him lead her onto the dance floor. He made a conscious effort to unclench his fists.
The prince was a good-looking bastard. Tonight, he was wearing full military uniform with a row of colorful campaign medals glittering on his chest. His eyes gleamed and his lustrous black mustache twitched as he laughed down at something Anya said.
Seb never trusted a man with a mustache. Petrov had a mustache, didn’t he? And really, who wore full dress uniform to a private ball? Seb could have worn his own medals too—if he’d wanted to look like a vainglorious prick. Anya wasn’t impressed by all that military bollocks. Was she?
He’d chosen a jacket of the deepest navy, so dark it looked black, and a diamond-and-sapphire pin for his cravat. The choice had been deliberate, a subtle masculine echo of Anya’s blue and clear gems. As if something so insignificant could bind them. He was a fool.
He couldn’t tear his eyes away from the dance floor. Trubetskoi was holding her so close, he’d be breathing in her perfume, that gorgeous jasmine and rain scent. It would be swirling in his brain, making him fevered. How could he possibly resist her?
His hand lingered on the silken skin of her back, and Seb tried not to scowl. Why should Trubetskoi get to touch all that creamy softness? He watched the Russian’s gaze linger on her alabaster smooth shoulders and her perfect breasts and quelled the urge to throw him through the nearest window, international diplomacy be damned.
Dorothea sent him a shrewd, amused glance. “I’ve already heard several gentlemen announce their intention to offer for her. Marrying an Englishman would cement the ties of friendship between our two nations. But of course, with her connections, she could marry into any noble family in Europe.”
Seb couldn’t hold back a grunt of annoyance. “She’s a woman, not a bloody peace treaty. And I have it on good authority that she doesn’t want to marry anyone. They’re all fortune hunters—even the gouty royal dukes.”
Dorothea shrugged. “There aren’t many men who can match her fortune, it’s true. She has all sorts of commercial interests back in Russia. Textile mills, printing shops. Why, she even owns a vodka distillery!”
Seb ground his molars together as Anya’s laughing voice echoed in his memory. I know a little bit about vodka. The wretch.
“Having her tiara remade was a very generous gesture.”
“She’s a princess. Society expects it.”
“For someone who claims to have no feelings for her other than duty, I’d say it was above and beyond. You must have paid Rundell a small fortune to have it completed in such a short time.”
He shrugged.
“I suppose it would be vulgar to inquire how much it cost?”
“It would. I can afford it.”
Dorothea regarded him thoughtfully. “I’m sure you can. In monetary terms.”
He didn’t even want to ask what she meant by that cryptic comment, so he pretended not to hear and disengaged himself as swiftly as possible. “Do excuse me. I think Alex is trying to catch my attention.”
Dorothea’s derisive snort indicated she saw through his cowardly