He didn’t look pleased. I knew my demands were outrageous, and perhaps part of me was daring him to call off. Hoping he would, so I could bow out gracefully.
The carriage turned a corner. Drunken louts sang Christmas carols. But it was warm and cozy inside with the curtains closed. Christmas was only two days away; would we be spending that time together?
“I see you aren’t going to be as malleable as I’d hoped.”
I managed to smile. “Would you like me as much if I was?”
He moved across the carriage settling next to me before I had time to prepare. Undaunted, he slid his arm around my shoulders, pulling me into his warm embrace. I closed my eyes, relaxing against his chest.
Being in his arms felt right. I couldn’t explain it, didn’t want to dwell on the confusing emotions. I only knew that in his home, I’d felt safe, secure, for the first time in a long, long while. And I wanted to believe that everything felt normal again, but I would have been lying.
He kissed the top of my head. “No, I don’t suppose I would like you as much.”
His affection should have made me feel better.
It didn’t.
Something had changed between us.
****
“You said there wouldn’t be very many people here,” I whispered, standing stiff by Gabe’s side. Every lord and lady in London must have been in attendance, and the moment Gabe’s name was announced, it was like a ripple in a pond. First the closest group noticed us, then the next, the next…
“Don’t worry. You’ll blend in.”
“Will I?” I scanned the enormous ballroom. I’d faced some of the most dangerous men in London while living in the slums, but I’d never been as terrified as I was standing on those stairs. I realized, in that moment, he couldn’t help me, despite how much power he wielded. “I should have put my hair up. Not one woman is wearing her hair loose.”
Not his presence, not his touch, nothing would save me here. I was alone in this. While he would be protected because of his title, while he would be safe because he was a man, I was a sinking ship in the middle of the sea, alone.
We moved down the steps. The crowd parted. I wondered if they moved out of respect, or if they were horrified and feared my sinful nature would taint them.
“It makes you unique,” he said.
“In a bad way.” I’d seen more than one person turn to his or her neighbor to whisper. “I’m inappropriate.”
Damn him, why had he not prepared me better? This, I realized, was what my future would hold if I became his mistress. Why did I have a feeling that this ball was a warning?
My hands grew clammy under my gloves. This was a mistake. A horrible mistake. I didn’t belong here. I didn’t belong where people sipped champagne, where the floors were polished marble, where exotic palms and ferns grew in potted planters around the large room. I certainly didn’t belong where the women wore so many jewels that they could have fed everyone in the slums for a year. I belonged with the dirt, the grime, the desperation and hunger.
“Would you like something to drink, my lord?” a servant asked, suddenly appearing at our side. I should have been serving drinks. Should have been in the retiring room, fixing hems. “Wine? Champagne?”
I felt like I’d been branded his, and all could see. Stained a sinful, immoral woman. The candlelight wavered in and out of focus. The very room seemed to tilt. Why had he brought me here? I glanced up at Gabe. So arrogant, so sure of himself, so indifferent at my side. Nothing bothered him. Had he truly believed his acquaintances would accept me? Or was I missing something?
A young woman brushed by us. Her slow scan of my body left me feeling naked and ashamed. She turned immediately to her friend and whispered something. They both laughed. All the reassurance I’d received in the carriage on the way here vanished with her whispered words.
Gabe took a flute of champagne from a tray and held it out to me, completely ignorant, or indifferent, to their mockery. “Here. Drink.”
The candlelight blurred. The scent of pine branches, perfumes and flowers overwhelmed me. I felt ill. Dizzy. The orchestra started to play. Couples swept out onto the dance floor. For a blessed moment, I was ignored. The perfect time to escape.