Chapter 89: The Widow Hands Her Over

Mera lowered her face into the smaller woman’s, eyes narrowing.

Finally, huffing Brandie Worthington whirled to walk away.

Mera smiled in satisfaction as she straightened. Letting her skirt fall. Jumping when she felt a hand grip her elbow. Whipping around, Mera found herself nose-to-chest with the dark pirate.

Anna draped on his arm, offering Meralee a challenging look.

Lucien met those molten brown eyes. Noting they shimmered like sunshine on dark water. Capturing any light. Absorbing.

Anna bestowed a sparkling smile. “I’m going to go see if Nora’s here.”

Meralee’s eyes followed her, widening in something akin to panic. “You said she wasn’t!” She wrenched her arm free of his grip and he let her.

She doesn’t want left with me. Amusement brightened his face. Are you afraid, Little Viper?

“Perhaps she has arrived.” Anna said dismissively.

“What are you tonight, Miss Carter?” He asked in a dusky voice.

“Charming.”

Unlikely.

He laughed. “Now that would be a disguise, wouldn’t it?”

Mera shot him a look.

“Don’t be deceived by her face, My Lord.” Anna cautioned. Tossing over her shoulder as she swept away. “This one has the serrated tongue of a viper when incited.”

My exact assessment.

“So, I’ve found.”

“Not in the least, you have!” Mera angrily defended.

Lucien took advantage of her distraction to catch the hand she hadn’t proffered to press his lips to it. “Still, I find I’m delighted to be in your company.”

She nearly seethed. “I dearly hope not.”

“True. That would defeat your goal to be anything but appealing wouldn’t it?” His eyes followed the outline of her black satin tunic trailing down to her fitted brown riding breeches. Dark lace trimmed the edge of her black mask. Surrounding eyes done in kohl.

Adding mystery to her allure.

Like she needs thrown down and that mask ripped off while she moans wildly.

“If you think black makeup and unfashionably dark dress makes you standoffish you’re mistaken.” He stepped back to survey her. “You’re stunning.” He eyes lingered over every rounded curve exposed by the costume. Highlighting the shapeliness of legs so clearly defined by high boots and breeches.

She’s nearly ethereal.

The anticipated annoyance widened her dark eyes. Matching rich mahogany hair creeping from beneath her jaunty hat to catch the warm hues of the chandelier, one wild tress curling over her neck to drape her collar. A stark contrast to the soft olive skin. Her ears dangled with jewels to match those encircling her slender throat. Enhancing the long delicate lines there. Especially as she made it a point to look away as though he were not worth her time.

“It seems you’re a pirate madam to my brigand.”

That ought to get a rise from her. Try to ignore me now, My Dear.

“Ah.” She slid her hand from his grip and offered what she likely thought to be an indulging smile. “I am nothing of yours.”

“Yet…” He murmured for her ears alone.

She turned that heated glare at him.

He tilted his head in interest, awaiting what she’d say.

Anna returned to chastise her friend. “Mera, you could at least feign some form of amiability! That look your giving him could shatter a mirror.”

“I feel positively awful.” She didn’t look away from Lucien as they stared each other down like two predators facing off.

“How will you ever be wed acting like that?” Anna whispered urgently into her ear.”

“I dearly hope I never will be!” She finally broke the stare to give Anna a startled look. “You know very well I don’t believe in forsaking my independence to be entrapped in a loveless relationship. In which ‘My Lord’ may have a mistress on the side, and me in his bed. I’m no decoration for a man’s arm, upholding his good name and his pleasures.” She turned an assessing look on Lucien’s length.

While he shamelessly eavesdropped as she murmured in a voice, he thought she couldn’t hear. Regardless of how rude it would seem.

She’s right. She wouldn’t be suited to be a decoration on a man’s arm. However, her views on the union are a bit jaded…As is the rest of her, I suppose.

Not every man has need of a mistress on the side. He felt slight aggravation draw his slashing brown brows together as he was tempted to defend his gender. Where’d she get such an idea?

“Besides,” She continued muttering over her shoulder. “any man in this room would be marrying me for the generous dowry Drake has put on me. Not my…charm.” She added dryly. Raising her voice just enough to jab at Lucien.

“Of course.” Anna sighed.

Mera scowled. Her right eye beginning to twitch in her irritation. She averted her attention back to Lucien. Opening her mouth to deliver a tongue lashing but he cut her off.

“Miss Carter, may I have the honor of this dance?” He bowed, and offered her his hand in a flourish.

Before she could utter the scathing retort on her lips.

Anna loudly said “Yes, you may.” And shoved Mera hard enough she stumbled and tipped enough to fall against his hand.

Leaving him torn between evading touching her breast and letting her fall. Stepping into her, he caught her weight and balanced her. Immediately retracting his hands once she was righted.

She steadied her footing and her expression became hateful, resenting that he’d touched her.

Despite that I caught her.