Chapter Seventeen Wren #2
They could call me what they wanted. I’d never been shy about what I wore or about my body. Why should I be? Sure, I wasn’t built like my mother, nor was I as graceful, but I adored my curves, and tonight, I let them show.
The Hockleys had decorated the ballroom in their four-story mansion with an abundance of violet, gray, and black flowers.
I bet most of them had been magicked to retain their unusual color.
Silver accents and mirrors of every shape and size hung from the gray brocade walls, and the reflection of the crystal chandelier shimmered upon each surface.
It was a wonderland. Elegant and ethereal.
I smiled as I picked up an empty crystal flute, about to head to a decadent champagne fountain, when a dashing dark blond man with tawny skin stole my attention.
Sporting a red velvet suit and skillfully mussed hair, he radiated the kind of effortless style I worked painstakingly hard to attain.
He looked vaguely familiar, around my age, but I couldn’t place him.
“Allow me,” he offered, knocking a gold signet ring engraved with the letter H in fancy script on the top of the glass. Immediately champagne filled the glass, the bubbles stopping just short of overflowing.
“Thank you,” I replied, thinking of his gift and wondering if it was similar to my old friend Danielle’s and her ability to replenish.
Reading my expression, he said, “It fills your glass or plate with what you desire most.” He cocked his blond head, his eyes a darker shade of honey gold. “Apparently that was champagne. Oh, and lovely to see you again, Wren.”
“Do we know each other?” I asked, taking a hesitant sip of my drink. It was delectable and had been exactly what I’d craved.
He placed a hand to his chest in mock affront. “Really, I’m wounded! I’m the notoriously handsome younger son of the manor.” He waved his hand around him. “Lord Grayson Hockley at your service. Or Grayson, but just for you.”
The younger Hockley. So Adrian, the giftless boy Callie mentioned earlier had to be here somewhere…
“I shouldn’t have forgotten,” I replied, unable to keep the smile from my lips. “How foolish of me.”
This close, I analyzed his face; his sharp jawline and regal nose.
He wore kohl beneath his eyes, bringing out their striking shade, and his lids shimmered with flecks of gold.
I’d seen him at parties before, but not many.
We might have danced once when I first had been permitted to attend balls, though all the faces blurred together.
Grayson scoffed. “Well, the eligible bachelors and bachelorettes tonight better not forget. I’ve been off my game as of late.”
Already looking for a suitor. Or maybe his parents were forcing it on him.
“I have a feeling you’ll find it again tonight.” I nudged his elbow and he smiled, his easygoing energy welcome.
“Maybe you can be my wingwoman. I like your style. Brave and bold. And of course, daring enough to start some gossip.” He eyed my dress and its low neckline with a smirk.
I instantly liked him.
“Gotta lean into the gossip when I’m at the center of it.” Might as well give ’em a show.
“Ah, yes. No gift.” Grayson shook his head. “My older brother has the same issue.”
My muscles tensed. “Your older brother. What was his name again?” I asked innocently.
“Adrian,” Grayson replied. “He’s up sulking in his room.
He’s in poor form tonight, as usual.” He snatched his own empty glass and filled it with a deep amber liquor, his ring pressed to the crystal.
“I swear, I assumed things were turning around just last week when he told me he might have found a way to earn a gift—like that’s even possible—but then he marched to his room and refuses to come out. ”
A way to “earn” a gift.
Finally, a genuine name to add to a list of suspects.
“Why do you think things were turning around?” I pressed.
Grayson shrugged. “He just came home one night like his old self, telling the family he’d do better. That he had a new business venture and some nonsense with a powerful member of society.”
Business venture? “What kind of—”
“Son!” A voice cut me off. I turned at the same time as Grayson, met by Lord Stuart Hockley’s reddened face. He’d indulged already, his words slow and slightly slurred as he said, “I still need to introduce you to a few more suitors. They’ve been waiting all night!”
The older man didn’t notice me, or chose not to, which was fine by me.
Before Grayson was carted off by his father, he shot me a wink. “Let me charm some pants off, and then save me a dance, Hayes.”
“Of course,” I said, returning his wink.
Grayson appeared harmless. A little cocky in his demeanor, but that was about all.
His brother, on the other hand…yes. I remembered Adrian, had at least seen him when we were younger.
Fates, now that I recalled it, he had been sort of insufferable; boasting about his birthday and how many women would come flocking his way once he received his gift.
But it never came. Since the Hockleys were powerful and hid much using Lady Hockley’s rare gift of distraction, most people moved on quickly. I envied her and her gift. She could turn the conversation by touching the golden hairpin she wore in her hair.
I finished my glass with a few unladylike gulps.
Liquid courage—I demanded it in abundance now that no one stood at my side.
Eyes practically burned into my skin, and although Callie had selected a gown I would’ve picked myself, I suddenly questioned my choice when scrutiny followed me like a curse.
A band struck up a slow tune, couples aiming for the dance floor in the center of the space. Floating silver mirrors on all sides produced a mind-bending sight.
Scanning the lively room, I spotted Cecile, Lilly, and Danielle all grouped together, whispering behind cupped hands.
They wore varying shades of pastel satin tonight as if they’d planned it together.
A part of me missed that, even if I knew they weren’t true friends.
It made my heart ache, an emptiness forming in my chest. As before, Danielle peeked up at me, a sad expression contorting her lips before she turned her cheek.
Would I ever be able to truly trust again? If I somehow got my gift back, I’d remember how callous those ladies had been once I wasn’t seen as useful to them.
A gentle hand grazed the back of mine.
I expected to see Damien’s sullen face and stormy eyes, but Everett Sinclair greeted me.
He made a fine sight, I couldn’t deny it, what with his charcoal woolen suit and freshly shaved face.
It showed off his square jawline and impressive cheekbones.
And his smile…he beamed at the sight of me, his eyes swiftly turning hooded as he took in the rest of my outfit.
When he eventually met my stare, the tops of his ears had reddened.
“You look stunning,” he managed, clearing his throat. “You always do, Wren.”
The admission forced my smile to grow. I often wore what people would consider scandalous dresses, and this gown was no different.
“I remember owing you a dance,” I said, placing my empty champagne glass on the nearest table.
He straightened and ran a hand through his blond hair. “I believe you do. Although if you’re not in the mood—”
“Hush, Everett,” I admonished, playfully shaking my head. “It’s the least I can do, and besides, I want to.”
While my mother had been a renowned dancer in her time due to her magicked shoes, I didn’t own her effortless grace.
But it never stopped me from enjoying myself, and I took to the floor whenever I could.
Everett lifted his arm for me to grasp, and I felt normal for the first time in weeks. A little like my old self.
Silently, he led the way, carefully steering us past a woman snapping her bare fingers and lighting a cigar. The flame sparked before she shook away the magic, and puffs of heavy smoke saturated the air.
Another man chose the time to use his power to impress his much younger dance partner. I watched in awe as he lifted her with ease and twirled her midair before catching her again without a single bead of sweat.
Everett’s hand slid to my waist as a new song played, and I raised one hand to his strong shoulders and placed the other in his hand. I thanked the Fates I’d worn gloves, because my palms were clammy. Nerves…around Everett, no less. How interesting.
But they weren’t the same as the nerves I got around a certain other person with gray eyes and a permanent scowl. I hated to admit that.
We started our dance, Everett unusually silent as he carefully spun me before bringing me back into the safety of his arms, but never to his chest or close enough to feel the heat of him. My skirts swished against the parquet floor, and I knew my cheeks were rosy by the time the song ended.
“Do you think they’d notice if we danced once more?” Everett asked, leaning to whisper into my ear. Now I felt his heat. The way his breath tickled my skin. It elicited a shiver, and I glanced up, looking at Everett from a different angle. Maybe he wasn’t so uptight after all.
“Let them notice,” I said conspiratorially. One glass of champagne and a risqué dress had turned me into a new person. One I quite liked.
Everett had no qualms about another dance, and a devilish smile lifted his lips. “So, Lady Hayes,” he began as the music flowed around us. “I wanted to see if you had any interest in horses.”
“Horses?” I repeated.
Everett swallowed thickly. “What I mean to say, not so eloquently, is if you had an interest in riding? I hope to have a companion one of these days on my rides.”
Oh.
“I enjoy riding,” I answered, completing another spin without falling on my face. My liquid courage appeared to be wearing off. Another drink would be a necessity.
“Good,” he said, his eyes sparkling. “Perhaps this upcoming week then, if it suits your schedule.” Like I had one of those to keep now that society had deemed me a pariah.
“I’d like that.”
We completed a few more steps, his hand securely on my waist, the feel of his fingers gripping me causing my head to spin with confusion.
But it was simple—this. Him.
When the song slowed, coming to an end, Everett neared, closing the small distance between us. I lifted my head, our lips inches apart.
“I rather enjoyed that,” he murmured softly, like a secret. “I know I’m not daring or bold, but I can’t stop myself from at least trying around you. In fact, even being in your presence makes me want to damn the rules and ask for another dance—”
A shadow loomed over us before a deep voice interrupted Everett’s speech.
“I think I’d like to cut in now.”