Chapter 14
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
“Stop looking so somber, brother!” Theo chastised. “It is a party! Look cheerful!”
From across the carriage, Tristan threw his sister a warning look.
It was he that chastised her, not the other way around.
Yet here they were yet again, roles reversed, with him sulking about being forced to a party and her insisting that it was time for a marriage.
He drew on a wide smile that was as false as wooden teeth, and his sister’s grimace to it was precisely what he was hoping for.
“What is the matter, little sister?” He goaded, “Do I not look cheerful enough for you?”
“Actually ye look quite frightening,” Alistair muttered, shifting uncomfortably in his seat beside Theo.
Tristan’s fake smile shifted into a smirk, and he crossed his arms as he tossed his gaze toward the window, watching other nobles being helped into their carriages as they passed the fine homes.
“You agreed that you would start looking for a wife,” Theo said with a frustrated sigh.
“I agreed that when my life slowed down, I would look for a wife,” he corrected her hastily.
“And seeing as my work has not yet ceased in expediency it would stand to be seen that such a time has not yet come to be.”
Theo tsked her tongue and snapped her emerald green fan across his knee.
“You spirit business has never done better and your number of workers is exemplary. What is it that possibly has you so busy?” Theo remarked.
Tristan glanced to Alistair, who once more shifted uncomfortably in his seat. They had both agreed to keep their assumptions about Perley from Theo until they had hard evidence.
It was not just their investigation into Perley that was taking up his time, though. It was time to move the location of the Devil’s Masquerade, and such a feat required many hands and many hours.
When he did not answer Theo, she tsked her tongue again and rolled her eyes.
“I swear, you and Ophelia grow more alike by the day,” she sighed with exasperation. “She is the one who requested I help her gain an invitation yet she is now just as resistant to join us this evening as you are.”
Tristan’s gaze snapped to his sister at the mention of Ophelia; feeling a tremor run through his entire body.
“What was that?” He asked.
Theo nodded to the window of the carriage as it drew to a stop, and as Tristan looked out, he saw Ophelia standing in front of her house, wrapped in a dark blue cloak with a look of pure discomfort.
“Ophelia is joining us?” He asked, looking back at Theo.
Theo gave him a curious look.
“Yes. Is that a problem?” She asked as the footman opened the carriage door.
He quickly shook his head as Ophelia froze at the open door and stared at him.
“What are you doing here?” She blurted out.
“A question I am asking myself,” he mused dryly, moving over to make room for her.
“Oh, you two,” Theo sighed as Ophelia climbed in beside Tristan, “Must you always be at odds?”
“No,” they muttered in unison, then cast one another a narrowed glance as they both sank further down into the carriage seat.
As they did so their knees brushed against one another’s. Tristan felt another jolt move through him at the small touch, and he wondered if Ophelia did as well for in an instant, they were both sitting up straight again and at opposite corners of the carriage.
“Children,” Theo scolded, “Petulant children the two of you are. Well, do not worry. You only need to ride together. Once we arrive at the ball you may go your separate ways. Certainly you can manage that.”
Neither of them responded to Theo, but Tristan did turn his gaze toward Ophelia.
Her light brown hair had been curled and let free on either side of her face, with the rest pinned into a stylish bun on the back of her head.
Her lashes has been curled and there was a touch of rouge on her cheeks and lips.
Her effort to look more beautiful was not all he noticed, however.
There was a nervousness in her green eyes, and he was sure that it was not entirely from the fact that he had been an unexpected guest in the carriage.
The woman who had sworn off marriage was husband hunting for the first time in her life, and she did not look at all comfortable with such an effort.
“You look lovely this evening, Ophelia,” he stated politely.
Not as lovely as you did the other night when you were with me, but still, lovely.
Tristan startled at the unbeckoned thought that had just popped into his head. Then nearly jumped again as Ophelia shifted her wary gaze back to him, as if she had heard his thoughts.
“Thank you,” she stiffly replied, then dragged her eyes down his midnight blue suit and sky blue blue waistcoat and cravat.
“Your cravat matches your eyes,” she then muttered, then turn her gaze back to the window.
Across from them Theo clapped her hands like a proud mother, making them both roll their eyes.
“There you go!” Theo praised, “An excellent effort. And Tristan, Ophelia is right. Your cravat does match your eyes! Oh, and Ophelia? I just realized, Tristan’s jacket matches that shade of your dress! Is that not a strange coincidence?”
Tristan could have sworn he saw a blush form beneath the rouge of Ophelia’s cheeks and it made him curious. He had chosen his suit because it had reminded him of the dress he’d had made for her. Had she chosen the cloak and gown for a similar reason?
He thought of the other night. Of how he’d snapped at her.
Of how he’d caressed and massaged the curve of her graceful throat to make up for it.
He’d massaged plenty of women after using them thoroughly.
He enjoyed it- but with them he’d had consent.
With Ophelia, he’d let his anger get the better of him, and he hated himself for roughly he’d grabbed her throat.
“I will never do that again,” he murmured aloud.
“What was that?” Theo asked as Ophelia’s eyes widened at him.
Realizing he’d just spoken his thought aloud, Tristan panicked as he cleared his throat.
“I said here we are again,” He stated, louder than necessary.
Ophelia, Alistair, and Theo all gave him a confused look.
“Where…are we again?” Alistair asked tentatively.
At that moment the carriage stopped, and Tristan let out a subtle breath of relief.
“At the party, I mean,” he said, waving toward the large estate outside the carriage window, “I meant yet another dull party to attend. Surely we are all tired of these things?”
Alistair chuffed and smirked.
“Quite right,” he said in agreement. “I cannae wait until we are settled down for the winter. I need a break from this society.”
“Indeed,” Tristan said with a nod of his head. Theo and Ophelia were still staring at him oddly as the carriage door was opened for them.
“Come on, then,” he urged, “Let us get this over with.”
Tristan could not stop staring at Ophelia once she handed her cloak over to the door man.
Her new dress, just as he’d suspected, was the exact same shade as the one he had purchased for her.
It was not made up of lace as the other had been, but this one, he decided, was equally alluring.
The soft, dyed fur that trimmed the fitted, off-the- shoulder bodice brushed lightly over Ophelia’s cream complexion and settled just above her cleavage; revealing the barest swell of her breasts.
It was the cut along the shoulders, though, that drew his eyes the most.
Ophelia’s strong, proud shoulders; small and angular, were bare.
A small dusting of freckles nestled atop each perch; looking absolutely delectable enough to lick.
The dress also showed off the graceful arches of her collarbone and the hollow of her throat.
He imagined lying her down, dribbling wine into the little cove, and lapping it up slowly.
“I knew you and Ophelia like to be at each other’s throats, but I had no idea it progressed to a literal venture,” Everett said.
Tristan snapped out of his reverie. A sharp spike of pain traveled through his neck as he turned so so fast to glare at his friend, who was smiling like a fool.
“What on earth are you muttering about?” Tristan demanded.
Everett’s dark brow perked up in amusement as he smirked behind his glass of whiskey.
“The way you are staring at her neck like that, it looked like you were fantasizing about ripping her throat out. Has your goading of one another really gotten that bad?” He asked.
Tristan relaxed against the pillar behind him and fidgeted with his own glass of whiskey.
“Something like that,” he murmured.
“You know, she is the only woman I am aware of that makes you forget those perfect manners of yours,” Everett mused. “Why do you suppose that is?”
Tristan’s annoyance grew. He was not in the mood for questions.
“Devil if I know,” he retorted, making an effort to look anywhere but back at Ophelia.
Everett rolled his eyes, then picked up the glass of red wine atop the bar.
“Well, cheers,” Everett replied, then moved to leave.
Tristan’s hand was on Everett’s arm in an instant, stopping him.
“Where are you going?” He asked.
Everett raised a curious brow as he held up the wine glass.
“To my wife?” He said, his voice lilting up into a question as he nodded toward Rose.
Tristan followed his gaze and shifted uncomfortably.
Rose, of course, was standing with Ophelia, as was Seraphina, Amelia, and Theo.
Subsequently, so were their husbands- all of which Tristan’s friends.
They were all together now. All but him.
He suddenly missed the days when the five of them gathered near the bar or the smoke room of a party while Theo and her band of friends pressed themselves to the wall.
“Are you going to stand there all night or are you going to join us?” Everett asked.
Stay away, Tristan thought instantly. Yet he knew he couldn’t.
Theo wanted him to start looking for a wife and if he stayed by himself very long, the many single ladies in attendance would make their move.
He’d felt their intense stares the moment he’d set foot inside, and he was sure that the only reason he had not been approached was because he had not let himself be alone.
“I am coming,” he grumbled, then followed Everett through the crowd.
Yet as he drew closer to his friends, he saw another man come from the opposite direction, and bristled. It was a man that matched the description of Perley- and he was headed straight for Ophelia.