Chapter Twenty-Nine #2
She raised her glass, and after a beat of hesitation, the crowd lifted their glasses as well. Even Mavis, who didn’t have a glass, found one hastily pressed into her hand by a passing waiter and followed suit.
“To living a marvelous life,” Philomena Gellis said, and the crowd echoed.
Mavis was surprised to find her throat tight as Philomena spoke the words.
After taking a small sip, Mrs. Gellis spoke again.
“And should you find all of this too morbid, never fear—I have a more conventional reason for celebration to share: My dear nephew, Mr. Arden Ryskamp, has recently become engaged, and I asked him to let me be the one to announce it here tonight.”
The crowd erupted in murmurs again, but this time, Mavis barely heard them.
She could barely hear anything over the sound of her rapidly beating heart.
She might well have been the only person present who wasn’t surprised by this announcement, but part of her still wished the ballroom’s parquet floors would splinter open and swallow her whole.
Mrs. Gellis lifted her hand, still holding the champagne flute, gesturing to the left side of the room, where a door creaked open. “Without further ado, might I present my nephew and his lovely new fiancée, Miss Oriana Mayles.”
As Arden led Oriana into the ballroom to thunderous, if somewhat bemused, applause, he couldn’t keep from searching the crowd for a familiar shock of red hair, and he found it all too easily.
Formidable feat that it was, he didn’t let his gaze linger, instead turning to keep his eyes on Oriana.
She was lovely as ever tonight, her cheeks flushed pink and smile bright, the pale-mauve gown she wore hugging her figure perfectly, simple enough not to distract from the sizable diamond ring she now wore on her left hand.
The ring was his aunt’s choice—when the three of them perused her collection of jewels, Oriana preferred a smaller ring, with a single round opal, but Aunt Phi had insisted on something more befitting a Ryskamp bride, and given the state of the woman’s health, Oriana hadn’t hesitated to acquiesce.
Despite Oriana’s smile and unfailing grace as they reached the center of the dance floor and the musicians began to play the song Oriana chose, Arden noticed how tightly she gripped his hand.
“Are you all right?” he asked.
The dance began, a slow number that featured enough spins and twirls to make a ballerina dizzy, but Oriana didn’t miss a step.
“Fine,” she said. “I just . . . I feel like we’re lying to everyone.”
Arden understood that—not long ago, he’d felt the same way. “Don’t think of it as a lie. Think of it as a story. You’re excellent at telling those.”
Oriana’s cheeks turned a shade darker, but her smile softened.
“I suppose so. And it’s a story everyone wants, isn’t it?
The gossip pages can talk about someone else for a change, and Thaddeus won’t worry so much about me now.
He’s been so protective of me since Jonas disappeared .
. .” She trailed off, shaking her head before glancing over his shoulder, searching the crowd.
“Do you see him? I hope he isn’t too put out with me for keeping the engagement secret, but your aunt asked me to tell no one. ”
“Thaddeus will understand,” Arden assured her, but just then, his eyes landed on the man in question, and he wished he could take the words back.
Thaddeus Mayles did not look understanding at all—he didn’t even look put out.
He looked drunk and furious, and that was a dangerous combination.
When the dance began to wind to an end, Thaddeus started toward them, empty champagne glass dangling from his fingers and his glare fixed.
Arden glanced around the room, seeing his aunt reclining on her chaise, exhausted but happy, and he swore that whatever spectacle Thaddeus was about to cause would not ruin her night.
Arden saw the moment Oriana noticed her brother too, how she took inventory of the fury etched on his face and the glassiness of his eyes. She gave a small sigh, not looking particularly surprised at her brother’s condition, but disappointed all the same.
“I’ll handle it,” Arden told Oriana before releasing her hand and stepping in front of her to shield her from her brother’s glare. When Thaddeus drew close, Arden forced a smile as he clapped the other man on the back. “Thaddeus—just the man I hoped to see. Perhaps we should talk in private?”
Before Thaddeus could respond, Arden was already leading him toward one of the exits—a corridor that led to a small parlor they could use, with Oriana at his heels.
As soon as they stepped into the parlor, Thaddeus shrugged Arden’s arm off his shoulders and whirled to face him and Oriana, eyes blazing.
“What the fuck is this about?” Thaddeus seethed, gesturing between Arden and Oriana.
Oriana flinched, her shoulders sagging, and instinct drove Arden to move in between her and Thaddeus.
“I apologize,” he said, careful to keep his voice mild. “I know we should have told you earlier, but my aunt wished to make the announcement, and given her health—”
“The announcement is the least of it.” Thaddeus scoffed. He wavered on his feet, clutching the back of an armchair for balance. “You will not marry this man, Oriana. I forbid it, do you understand me?”
To Arden’s surprise, Oriana laughed. “You forbid it?” She stepped around him to stand at his elbow. “After Jonas, you told me I could marry whoever I wished to.”
Thaddeus’s face reddened. “Yes, well, I didn’t mean him. Do you even know who this fortune hunter is?”
“I know about his financial troubles but—”
“Did you know I saw him tupping my fiancée on the beach after the Benitez ball?” Thaddeus interrupted.
The room went silent, and every bit of breath fled Arden’s body.
Thaddeus knew. He’d known since that day, and Mavis .
. . A picture fought to take shape in Arden’s mind, a new frame on the last time he’d seen her, before everything went to shit.
Something was wrong when he arrived at the hotel, he’d noticed as much, but she hadn’t told him, and he hadn’t had any choice but to let her keep her secrets. He should have fought harder.
Too late, he remembered that it wasn’t Mavis he should be concerned about, it was Oriana.
Their engagement might be a farce, but he still owed her more than to find out about his affair with Mavis like this.
He turned toward her to find her wide eyed and pale, staring at her brother with her mouth hanging open.
“I can explain,” Arden told her, even as he knew he couldn’t—not really. What excuse could he give for his behavior that wasn’t the entire unvarnished truth?
“He’s only after your fortune, Oriana,” Thaddeus said. “All he cares about is money.”
Arden knew he wasn’t a good man, that he had crossed his share of moral lines this summer and done things he wasn’t proud of, but that accusation, from Thaddeus Mayles of all people, snapped something in him.
He laughed, the sound coming out hard edged. “That’s rich, coming from you. How much is left in your coffers, Mayles? I’d wager nothing but dust, given how desperate you are to marry Miss Lindcourt.”
“Arden!” Oriana exclaimed, shooting him a sharp look that he ignored. Oriana might have been blind to her brother’s faults, but Arden would not pretend they didn’t exist.
Thaddeus ignored his sister’s protest, instead shoving away from the chair he leaned against and crossing the room toward Arden in three lumbering steps. “I wouldn’t marry that lying, filthy, Lack bitch for all the money in the—”
Arden didn’t realize he’d hit Thaddeus until the man staggered backward, doubled over, and pain exploded across Arden’s knuckles.
“Thaddeus!” Oriana ran to her brother’s side, but as soon as she laid a hand on his shoulder, Thaddeus shoved her off him, sending her reeling back. Her foot caught on the edge of the rug, and she tumbled to the floor in a pile of mauve silk, an anguished scream piercing the air.
Before Arden could check on her, Thaddeus struggled to his feet. He didn’t spare a glance in his sister’s direction, all his attention focused on Arden.
“You’ll regret that, Ryskamp.”
While Arden’s first strike had been more instinct than intention, he didn’t think he would ever regret the feel of his fist colliding with Thaddeus’s face—not after what he said about Mavis, nor what he did to his own sister.
As Thaddeus raised his hands and magic stirred the air around them, Arden’s mouth stretched into a grim smile, and he thought that he didn’t regret punching Thaddeus at all. In fact, he intended to do it again.