Masquerade (Scandalous Ballroom Encounters Book 1) by Victoria Vale Read Free Book Online Page B

tucked her into the crook of his arm and kissed the top of her head. She fell silent and held him, one arm crossing his middle and snaking around his waist.
    It surprised him how content he was to simply sit with her, watching as the rocking of the carriage slowly lulled her to sleep. This was it, his chance to take her home—wherever that happened to be—and forget the rest. She wasn’t fully compromised, and he hadn’t missed his chance to cry off.
    However, just the thought of her with someone else set his blood to boiling. He held her possessively against him and kissed the top of her head. Even if just for this one night, Maggie was his.

Chapter Nine
     
    Camden’s Grosvenor Square townhouse was a study in refinement, elegance, and taste. Margaret’s eyes widened when the front door swung open to usher her into a home she’d never thought she’d see the inside of. Veined marble floors gleamed, with matching pillars stretching up toward the ceiling. A massive chandelier hung overhead, its lit tapers causing light and color to dance within the prisms of crystal. A heavy, gilt mirror flanked by matching sconces reflected them both.
    She paused, taking in her appearance with a slackened jaw. Who was this ravishing creature staring back at her? Daring gown, cheeks flushed red from passion, lips a taunting pucker stained crimson—she hardly recognized herself.
    Wrought-iron balusters with mahogany banisters led a path up the stairs, onto which Camden took her arm and led her after he’d waved the waiting footman away. Once out of the servant’s sight, he pulled her against his side, his hand tight upon her waist.
    “Your home is so beautiful,” she murmured as they reached the first floor and her feet sank into thick, Oriental rugs.
    “I cannot take any credit for it,” he admitted. They ascended the staircase leading to the third floor. “In my father’s day, it was a bit ostentatious, overflowing with displays of wealth cluttering every available surface. He fancied himself a collector of fine things, and never missed an opportunity to display his collection. It had become a bit … chaotic. When I inherited, my Aunt Albina begged me to allow her to redecorate.”
    “And as you have very little time to worry about such mundane matters, you allowed it,” she surmised.
    He nodded. “It was for the best, as it gave her something to divert her mind from …” He trailed off, pausing with his hand upon a doorknob. His brows furrowed over his eyes, which he’d lowered. His jaw ticked and he took a deep, noisy breath, as if trying to compose himself.
    She faltered beside him, her own brow scrunching while she studied his face. His throat constricted visibly as he swallowed, then cleared his throat.
    “From?” she prodded, curiosity pushing her to pry where she knew she ought not.
    “My brother’s death,” he said, his voice a bit clipped. He opened the door and led the way inside.
    She felt like such a fool. Of course, everyone knew of the death of Garrett Rycroft a little over one year ago. He had been killed in a horrific riding accident. The second Rycroft son had been his heir apparent, and his death had meant Camden’s need to marry and produce an heir became all the more imperative.
    “Forgive me,” she whispered, clasping her hands before her. “I’d quite forgotten about that.”
    He paused at the center of the room and turned back to face her. His face broke into a smile and he extended one hand to her. “It’s quite all right, my sweet. Perhaps for a night, you can help me to forget, too.”
    She took his hand, allowing him to draw her toward him. She became very aware of her opulent, yet masculine surroundings—Camden’s bedroom was elegantly appointed in shades of dark navy, white, and gray—yet, she lost the desire to marvel over the décor when he reached up to remove his mask.
    The bridge of his nose appeared, as did his dark eyebrows over the cerulean eyes that had so captivated