Her dress swished softly as she moved toward the elaborate display of food and drink on huge tables in front of a gurgling fountain. A crystal bowl held some sort of punch. Arista took one of the delicate cups and filled it herself.
At Lady Carstair’s balls, there were no servants—only the butler who took the tickets. People were completely on their own in the gardens, free to pursue any pleasure, limited only by their own imaginations. Away from gossiping mouths and curious eyes, any manner of things could happen.
The punch tasted sweet, full of exotic fruits that Arista could not name, and with an undertone of rum that should have eased the tension in her shoulders. Instead, prickling heat climbed the back of her neck. She turned her head slowly, and found the highwayman only a couple of steps behind her. A rush of warmth flooded her face. He made no move to get closer, but his stare pinned her in place as firmly as if he held her. She could not mistake him. He wore the same black silk scarf around his face, the same dark hat pulled low. Arista turned completely to face him, and if she’d had any doubt about his identity, his eyes proved it without a doubt. Grae.
He had filled her thoughts constantly over the past several nights, despite her best efforts to push him away. She stared up at him, waiting, fighting the breathlessness that had made it difficult to inhale normally.
He stood tall, hands clasped behind his back as he watched her. His confidence was almost palpable. He had to be someone important under that mask, if he had procured an invitation to this particular event. But he had told her before that he was working toward becoming a ship captain. Surely merchants would not have the means or status to attend a masquerade at Lady Carstair’s home.
Had he lied to her? And if so, why?
She should turn away, move, before he took her silence as an invitation. She shivered at the thought of being close to him again. As if he’d read her mind, he started toward her. His steps were confident and determined. If she were going to run, it had to be now.
But Arista remained caught in his stare until the highwayman closed the short distance between them and stopped much too close. She tilted her head back to look up at him. He brushed his fingers along her arm and goose bumps broke out over her bare skin.
The same wave of longing swept over her again. Half for Grae himself, and half because of the ache their previous conversation had unleashed. She wanted to know so much more about the places he’d traveled, and thought she’d never have the opportunity to do so. Now, here he stood, right in front of her. Questions burned on her tongue.
“Good evening, my lady.” He slid his fingers down and took her gloved hand, then raised it to his lips. “I had hoped I would find you again.”
A touch of unease made her hand tremble. Did he wish to strike a deal with Lady A, then? Was he her client tonight? No one ever approached her directly. Everything went through Bones.
“If you wish to do business, sir, I’m afraid you must start with my boss. Good evening to you.” Arista started to turn away, but his touch held her there. Even in the dim light, she saw the confusion in his eyes.
“I have no business that needs attending to this evening, milady. Unless you count convincing you to dance. Then I cannot deny you’re correct.”
Arista studied him. There was no tension around his shoulders or mouth; his arms hung loosely at his sides, and his gaze never wavered from hers. All signs that he spoke truthfully. She let out a small sigh of relief. The idea that he had charmed her simply to get to Bones had made her feel ill. She didn’t want this man to be seeking Lady A. She wanted him to be looking for her: Arista.
“So, will you dance with me tonight?” He held out his hand and waited for her response. Around them, only a handful of couples were moving to the soft music. None paid any attention to the others.
You’re here to do a job, she reminded herself.
As if sensing the reason for her hesitation, he leaned in close. A fresh aroma of cedar and something spicy, exotic, made her head feel cloudy and light. “I’m not really a guest here tonight. The truth is that I snuck past the butler when I saw you arrive at the gate.”
“You were spying on me?”
“No. Only hoping that you would be in attendance tonight.”
Again, she saw no signs of deception. And if he had indeed sneaked into the masquerade, that would explain how a merchant had gotten into the party. If anyone there knew they were in the company of a merchant and a beggar…It almost made her laugh out loud.
“You realize if anyone finds out, you will be escorted off the grounds?”
He leaned in even closer. “It’s a risk I’m willing to take. Are you going to tell them?”