Chapter 4: Page 3
"Please." She pressed her fingers to her temple. "It's
too early in the morning for talking in riddles."
Irvine rose abruptly. "Then perhaps you should go find
Dintch. His manner of talk seems to suit you better
than mine. And you needn't feel you have to hover around
to protect me from some predatory vixen. I'm perfectly
able to take care of myself."
He stalked off, leaving the other guests staring and
Selphie as shocked as if he'd hurled the tea urn at her.
What had come over Irvine? Whatever did he mean about not
being the man she thought he was? As her weary mind
absorbed his words about Viscount Dintch and
predatory vixens, she grew more and more distressed.
Irvine must have overheard her talking with the viscount
last evening.
Was it possible Lord Kinneas had deeper feelings for
her than she'd ever realized?
And if she had been mistaken about that, was it possible
she'd been mistaken in her own feelings as well?
"This isn't the mask and costume I brought!" Irvine stared
at the garments laid out on his bed.
He had planned to go as King Arthur. This looked like…
Irvine's valet shook his head, as if to say it was none of
his doing. "The earl's man brought it around, sir. Said
it was compliments of Lord Lionheart."
Suddenly it all made sense. "I suppose he took my gear
away with him?"
"Should I not have given it to him, sir? He said it was
orders from the baron. I thought you must know."
"Never mind, Charters. I'll make do." Under his breath
Irvine muttered, "Damn you, Squall!"
Seize his chance to woo Selphie, indeed. There lay his
chance, right down to the quiver full of arrows, which
he might use like Cupid, to pierce Miss Tilmitt's
indifferent heart. Did he dare try?
Apart from encasing his troublesome emotions in a stout
shell of reason and responsibility, he had little
experience with deception and even less taste for it.
Was any woman worth stooping to such depths for?
He had firmly decided not — made up his mind he wouldn't
attend the ball. Who would miss him, after all? Then,
from out in the corridor, he heard Selphie's laughter
chime. The sound left him dizzy and breathless.
Did he not owe it to himself, and perhaps to her, to
try? If she discovered his deception, she might hate
him, but Irvine preferred that to the prospect of having
her wed him out of pity.
"Well, what are we waiting for, Charters? I have a
masquerade to attend."
And a fair damsel to win.
"Please." She pressed her fingers to her temple. "It's
too early in the morning for talking in riddles."
Irvine rose abruptly. "Then perhaps you should go find
Dintch. His manner of talk seems to suit you better
than mine. And you needn't feel you have to hover around
to protect me from some predatory vixen. I'm perfectly
able to take care of myself."
He stalked off, leaving the other guests staring and
Selphie as shocked as if he'd hurled the tea urn at her.
What had come over Irvine? Whatever did he mean about not
being the man she thought he was? As her weary mind
absorbed his words about Viscount Dintch and
predatory vixens, she grew more and more distressed.
Irvine must have overheard her talking with the viscount
last evening.
Was it possible Lord Kinneas had deeper feelings for
her than she'd ever realized?
And if she had been mistaken about that, was it possible
she'd been mistaken in her own feelings as well?
"This isn't the mask and costume I brought!" Irvine stared
at the garments laid out on his bed.
He had planned to go as King Arthur. This looked like…
Irvine's valet shook his head, as if to say it was none of
his doing. "The earl's man brought it around, sir. Said
it was compliments of Lord Lionheart."
Suddenly it all made sense. "I suppose he took my gear
away with him?"
"Should I not have given it to him, sir? He said it was
orders from the baron. I thought you must know."
"Never mind, Charters. I'll make do." Under his breath
Irvine muttered, "Damn you, Squall!"
Seize his chance to woo Selphie, indeed. There lay his
chance, right down to the quiver full of arrows, which
he might use like Cupid, to pierce Miss Tilmitt's
indifferent heart. Did he dare try?
Apart from encasing his troublesome emotions in a stout
shell of reason and responsibility, he had little
experience with deception and even less taste for it.
Was any woman worth stooping to such depths for?
He had firmly decided not — made up his mind he wouldn't
attend the ball. Who would miss him, after all? Then,
from out in the corridor, he heard Selphie's laughter
chime. The sound left him dizzy and breathless.
Did he not owe it to himself, and perhaps to her, to
try? If she discovered his deception, she might hate
him, but Irvine preferred that to the prospect of having
her wed him out of pity.
"Well, what are we waiting for, Charters? I have a
masquerade to attend."
And a fair damsel to win.
