Chapter 3 #2
Now his mama was weaving her way across the hall with grace and ease that he’d struggled to achieve earlier amongst the crowded halls.
Previously, he’d filed away the tales of her being a highly spirited debutante prior to his papa winning her hand as mere gossip that warranted no merit.
However, observing her actions now, he’d be a dunderhead to doubt the woman’s abilities to sway a crowd's opinion in her favor or to charm her way out of a difficult situation.
As his mama stood before the mysterious person in the cloak, they pushed back the hood to reveal they were, in fact, a woman.
Her hair was pulled back into a tight, tidy knot, a stark contrast to the wildly accentuated coiffures of the other female patrons.
Oddly, she wore a simple black demi-mask, so she was still disguised; the only thing Warren could see of her besides her hair was her mouth.
Soft pink lips. He was about to turn around and retrace his steps when a glimmer of silver wrapped around the lady’s neck caught his attention and sent a bolt of shock through him.
Blinking, he dismissed his increased heart rate to temporary panic.
Warren leaned back an inch or two, gave his head a shake, and blinked.
Focus. One deep calming breath and he resumed observing his mama, who was saying something to the woman.
The masked lady shook her head. “No, my lady.”
In the next moment, she reached out and grabbed his mama by the shoulders and pulled her close before stepping around to shield her from a guest who was swaying her arm about, holding a glass of red wine that threatened to spill over the edges.
Warren reached out as if to catch the glass before disaster, only to be blocked and forced to remain in place by the blasted wall that he wanted to desperately tear down with his bare hands.
With the back of her cloak drenched in wine, his mama’s protector looked over her shoulder at the offender who was desperately and awkwardly swiping at the wet material.
With a glare that would have sent any sensible person fleeing, Warren distinctly deciphered the words spoken by the lady. “Leave. Now.”
Captivated, Warren didn’t dare to blink.
Who was this lady? If he knew his mama as well as he believed, there would be no separating her from the fearless lady now that they were acquainted.
He pressed a hand to his chest. Was he, too, falling under this woman’s spell?
His father had specifically warned him to avoid such a predicament, stating that loving a spirited woman would only cause madness.
A footman appeared and thankfully ushered the woman away, safely out of arm’s length of the masked lady, whose hostility could be felt through the walls.
His mama reappeared and shifted so that Warren gained a side view of the pair as they stood face-to-face.
No longer able to read their lips, he gave up peering at the two and pressed his ear against the hole.
The other patrons' rivalry was too loud for him to make out their conversation.
Damn hidden passageways and the danger that seemed to lurk in every blasted corner of the Velvet Hell.
He peered through the opening again, committing to memory the picture frames next to the door the lady appeared to be guarding.
The broad grin on his mama’s face only fueled his desperation to remove her from the gambling hell.
Bah. I’m a fool. Threatened by the mere existence of the Velvet Hell while Mama isn’t showing the slightest bit of fear.
Rather than returning to the study, he decided to venture farther along the tight space until he came across a slightly larger crack between the panels.
He ran his hand over the wall until he found a carved-out hand grip.
He tugged at it, and the wall shifted, sending Warren stumbling out into a dark room.
Hands stretched out, Warren regained his balance and then blinked until his sight adjusted to the lack of light.
With only minimal streaks of moonlight filtering through the dark curtains, it was difficult to make out the room's layout.
He lowered his gaze, searching for light and the door threshold.
The combined sound of patrons tramping about and the sliver of light to his left had him slowly moving in that direction.
When his hands brushed against the door, he reached lower until he found the latch. Freedom.
Warren stepped out into the crowded hall only to be swept up and shuffled along until he found an alcove to duck into.
He vowed to find his meddling mama, leave this garish establishment, and never return.
It was no wonder only those with reputations beyond repair were known to frequent the Velvet Hell.
Mayhap I should pay more heed to rumors. No. Now that’s a ridiculous idea.
Avoiding making eye contact with anyone in the throng of patrons merrily passing by, Warren rose onto his tiptoes to scan the walls and the frames that would help him locate his mama
“My dear boy!”
Warren looked down to find his mama standing beside him.
Her cheeks filled with color and her eyes blazing with mirth.
The woman was going to be the death of him, as his father had warned.
“It’s time for us to leave.” He winged out his arm for her and added, “No matter what happens, this time, don’t let go. ”
For the first time ever, she didn’t refuse and slipped her arm through his. “I met the most charming lady. You must meet her.”
His mama tried to turn them around, but he wasn’t about to stay a moment longer than necessary. “I seriously doubt any of the ladies present possess a reputation that would be befitting the position of Viscountess of Guernsey.” His reply earned him a firm swat on the arm. “Ouch.”
“You may be a viscount now, but I’m still your mama. And I know you best.” She gave him her you better listen to me glare, and he willingly altered their course to head in the opposite direction of the door to leave.
Hating the strange silence that hung between them, Warren asked, “What is the future Viscountess of Guernsey’s name?”