gown, not really a costume. I am not one for extravagance, my lord, and lean towards the understated.”
If it was a simple gown, why all the secrecy?
Ashwood offered his hand to Miss Hart, though his gaze dipped to her silver slippers. “Perhaps understated is best. At a masquerade, the more ostentatious the dress, the more one blends into the background.”
Evan reached for the blue velvet box on the opposite seat, itching to remove the lid. He alighted, waited while Ashwood introduced Miss Hart to his wife, and then handed her the box.
“Leave your cloak in the carriage. There’s always a crush at the cloakroom.” Equally, they might need to make a quick exit. And Evan wanted to see Miss Hart’s costume before other men had the pleasure. “If we’re separated, I’ll need to identify you amid the horde. I know I’m not looking for an Elizabethan courtier.”
“Based on the gold strands threaded through Miss Hart’s hair, I would wager she’s come as a Greek goddess,” Eva Ashwood said.
Ashwood laughed. “Based on the glint in Sloane’s eyes, she’s Aphrodite.”
“Peitho is the goddess of seductive persuasion,” Eva challenged.
A blush as red as a berry stained Miss Hart’s cheeks. “I am neither Aphrodite nor Peitho, but I suppose I cannot hide beneath this cloak forever.”
She opened the box and removed an exquisite handheld mask decorated with blue and green spangles that sparkled like the surface of a sunlit sea. He should have known she would pick something alluding to their shared heritage, to their grandfathers’ love of the ocean.
Eva gasped. “It’s beautiful, Miss Hart.”
“Mr Sloane said to choose whatever my heart desired.”
Ashwood cast Evan a knowing look. “I’m sure he had no thought for himself when he made the generous gesture.”
Oddly, he’d thought of nothing but making her happy. Now, imagining the bounty of delights hidden beneath her cloak left every muscle tense with anticipation.
He took the empty box and placed it on the carriage seat, held her mask while she unbuttoned her cloak and slipped it off her shoulders.
Holy hell!
Evan gaped at the woman whose luscious figure robbed him of rational thought. Dressed in a satin cerulean blue gown with a silver diaphanous overskirt that shimmered in the muted light, Miss Hart looked like a delicate nymph burst from the sea. His hands throbbed with the need to explore every curve. His stomach muscles clenched hard. Oh, how he longed to capture this mermaid in true pirate fashion and plunder her senseless.
“Now I see why Mrs McCready feared you’d catch your death.” He’d likely expire, too, if his heart didn’t settle. “Though you look beyond beautiful, Vivienne.”
Her shy smile turned luminous. “I told Mrs Mulligan my husband believed a mermaid had saved his grandfather from drowning. That the least I could do was play to his fantasy.”
Oh, this woman played to every wild and wicked fantasy. “If I thought you’d come to my rescue, madam, I’d gladly throw myself in the Thames.”
Ashwood chuckled. “Newberry has a fountain. It might be safer to start there.”
“It’s not as rank or as murky.” Eva Ashwood laughed as she gripped her husband’s arm and led him towards Newberry’s mansion house.
Evan threw Miss Hart’s cloak into the carriage before escorting his nymph to join the queue of flamboyant revellers.
Being a man with a reputation for hosting extravagant events, Newberry sought novel ways to amuse his guests. Tonight was no exception. Amid the vast array of glowing candelabra and champagne fountains were the most bizarre group of entertainers the ton had ever seen.
Miss Hart tugged Evan’s arm as he led her past the nun with a monkey perched on her shoulder. “That monkey can do card tricks. He picked the ace of spades from the pack.”
“I imagine the card is marked,” Evan said cynically.
“And he made a shilling disappear.”
“The creature is skilled at stealing snuff boxes and pocket watches, too. By the end of the evening, his mistress will have more than a decent bounty.”
Miss Hart touched the pearl earrings dangling from her lobes and gave a relieved sigh. “I heard someone say there are fire eaters and snake charmers outside.”
Evan snorted. “The air chokes with the stench of perfume. One accident with a lit torch and the entire room would be ablaze. Can you imagine the chaos if a snake suddenly darted from its basket and took to the dance floor?”
She glanced at him and lowered her mask. “I must sound like a naive debutante, one easily impressed by freakish exhibitions.”
He touched her hand. “I have a