Chapter Three #3
It took Mavis a moment to recognize that the burst of laughter was, in fact, coming from her, and she clamped her mouth closed, glancing at the door over her shoulder.
She was acutely aware of just how bad things would look if someone were to discover them like this.
Still, it was a struggle not to let herself laugh—if she had a thousand guesses for what Arden would say, that wouldn’t have ranked among them.
Oh, his anger, she expected; the blame, she’d braced for.
Even the hurt in his eyes hadn’t surprised her, really. But this?
“I must have misheard you,” she said when she trusted herself to lower her hand from her mouth. “I thought you suggested we work together.”
“I did.” Arden looked as perplexed at her response as she felt. “It isn’t funny.”
“Of course it is. You may have changed a lot these past five years, Arden, but I do hope you haven’t completely lost your sense of humor.”
The muscle in his jaw jumped as he glanced away from her, swallowing. “I can assure you, I’m not particularly fond of the idea either, but if there was another option, I would exploit it.”
“That is reassuring. Of course, you must be thoroughly backed into a corner if you would deign to ask for help from . . . what was it you just called me? Dirt?”
The comment had hurt more than it had any right to. Mavis did know who she was and where she came from, and it was nothing Mavis hadn’t had lobbed at her countless times before, but it resonated differently coming from him.
“Don’t tell me you’re looking for an apology from me now?” Arden lifted an eyebrow.
“Your opinion of me doesn’t matter enough to warrant one.
” It should have been the truth, but the words still tasted like a lie in Mavis’s mouth.
If he could tell, though, he gave no sign of it.
The corners of his mouth pulled down into a slight frown, his face as easy to read as it was five years ago.
“You’ve gotten Thaddeus Mayles to propose, but if your con is the same one you ran on me five years ago, you’ve still got a ways to go.”
He was right about that—once the betrothal contract was negotiated and signed, Mavis had a few weeks to wring every expensive gift and investment out of Thaddeus as she could before convincing Thaddeus to break their engagement off.
The last part usually didn’t require much effort on her part—oftentimes she even enjoyed that phase of the con more than any other.
Whether it was chewing with her mouth open at supper or flying into jealous rages about any woman he so much as glanced at, there were all manner of ways to convince a man to end things, even if it cost him twenty thousand solas and the engagement ring to do so.
In all her cons, Arden was the only one who had given her any difficulty in that regard.
“I can more than handle Thaddeus Mayles.” Mavis shrugged. “Why don’t you say what you truly mean—you need help wooing Oriana.”
Again, Arden’s jaw flexed.
“Your aunt has excellent taste,” Mavis continued when he didn’t deny it. “Thaddeus is fielding suitors from Garlin and abroad, but Oriana has proven . . . picky.”
As she said it, she realized that Arden was more right than even he knew.
She didn’t need to work with him to meet her aim, but Thaddeus’s attention was so often distracted by his sister that having her out of the way would make her job easier.
Not easy enough to make working with Arden Ryskamp worth it, though.
“That,” Arden said, grimacing, “is precisely the problem. I’m penniless, with no reputation at all in Garlin. I don’t stand a chance of competing for her hand.”
Mavis couldn’t help giving another snort of laughter. “Yes, well, lucky for you, she’s a woman and not a trophy. I very much doubt Oriana intends to select a husband based on his bank statements and excerpts from the Garlin society pages.”
“Of course not—that’s how you choose your husbands.”
“Fiancés,” she corrected. “I’ve yet to take a husband, though I suppose I could steal a hell of a lot more money if I went through with the wedding, couldn’t I?
” she asked idly, as if that very idea hadn’t been suggested to her before by Rafe.
Mavis had no interest in tying herself to anyone, though, even if only through a false name signed on a sheet of paper.
What was more, if she actually married her marks, they would no doubt expect intimacies Mavis had no interest in sharing.
With fiancés, she could cling to the excuse of chastity and waiting for the wedding night, though Mavis had never seen virginity as a thing of value the way Lusters did and had rid herself of hers some time ago now.
The only mark she had ever crossed that particular line with was the one standing across from her, and that experience had proven just how dangerous intimacy could be, how it could blur the lines between what was real and what was an illusion, even for her.
“My point is,” she continued, ignoring the thought and the memories that threatened to accompany it. “You’re handsome, and I know firsthand that you can be quite charming when you’re courting a girl.”
He leveled her with a skeptical look. “I could have been utterly vile, and you would have pretended to be charmed by me all the same.”
Mavis considered her next words carefully. “I would have. But for whatever it may be worth, you weren’t vile, Arden. You were charming. And I have absolutely nothing to lose by telling you the truth now, do I?”
Arden still looked uncertain. “Whatever charm I had then seems to have left me.”
“I’m sure you’re judging yourself harshly.”
“The last time I tried to court a woman, it ended in me falling face first into horse dung—and that was one of my better attempts as of late,” he admitted.
For a moment, Mavis was speechless. “I see,” she said finally, unable to smother the smile tugging at her lips. “That is . . . unfortunate.” Still, she didn’t know exactly what Arden was asking of her.
Arden gestured toward her. “You, on the other hand, are very good at getting people to fall in love with you, and quickly at that. What’s more, you already have a relationship with Oriana Mayles since you’re newly engaged to her brother. You could help me woo her.”
To say Mavis had any kind of relationship with Oriana was greatly exaggerating things.
They had always been cordial, but anytime they had been thrown together, Mavis always felt as if they were speaking different languages.
Which had suited her fine—past experiences had made Mavis limit her interactions with any Lusters apart from her mark to avoid slipping up.
Still, she knew Oriana as well as she knew any of the marks she’d seduced over the years—better than most of them, admittedly, since she’d actually met the woman and not just read gossip about her in the scandal sheets.
She could help Arden, if she wanted to. But she didn’t—it was a terrible idea, and the last thing she needed was to spend more time with him than necessary.