She struggled to speak, willing the angry tears not to fall. “How convenient, that society’s censure meets your approval. But what if you should make one misstep that brings you out of society’s favor that isn’t due to any fault of your own?”
“But it would be my fault,” he said with serene self-confidence. “I don’t blame my misfortunes on others. I hold only myself accountable.”
That hit home, as she knew he had meant it to.
“You are the captain of your fate, ensign?” she said. “Wholly? There is no one you answer to, who by his own fallibility and human nature causes you to fall into misstep?”
He laughed. “There is no such officer in Port Saint Frey who would make such a mistake.”
“Really?” she said. “Not even Colonel Talios?”
His face grew red and thunderous. “He is army, not navy. I thought we were speaking of navy,” he said. “I have no opinion of the army. The army may all do as it pleases.”
Elenor grabbed his arm. “The music is striking up again,” she said. “Let’s all dance. Please, Jax.”
They all rushed off in a swirl of silk, taffeta, and black evening coats, leaving her all alone.
Except for Amos. He had left his friends and returned, his hair disheveled, his coat unbuttoned. She had blamed him for being drunk before; now he really was drunk. He swayed a little.
“I know you did something,” he said, his voice thick.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she snapped, and edged away.
“You know.” He came closer to her. He gave her bare arm a little caress. She shuddered with disgust and shook off his hand. “You know, you should be nicer to me. It could be good for you.”
“I highly doubt that,” she said. Damned fingers, she thought. They were inert, the power used up. If she had known he would be like this now, she would not have wasted the charge on his earlier insults. She gathered up her skirts to walk away when he said, following close behind her,
“Listen. The wind’s died down. Perhaps we could take a turn in the garden.”
She laughed, a short burst, and he turned as red as Jax had turned a moment before.
“You don’t have to be rude,” he said, a whine in his voice. “I didn’t have to dance with you. The least you could do now is – be nice.”
“Oh, so I owe you? A thousand pardons, Amos, I didn’t realize that one set made me yours forever. I’ll have my parents post the notices.”
He went from red to white so quickly she was disgusted at his transparency.
“Go,” she ordered, curt. “I don’t want to spark with you. I have more important things to do tonight.” Let him guess at what that was – she had no more interest in Amos Kerrill.
“You’ll regret this,” he said, hoarse. “I’ll see to it. House Mederos will be dead and disgraced, not just in Port Saint Frey but in Ravenne and everywhere else.”
She drained her punch in one gulp and set down her cup.
“You idiot, Amos,” she said. She leaned in closer and whispered. “You’re too late. I have nothing left to lose.”
She stamped her foot hard on his expensive shoe, catching him in the instep. He groaned and doubled over, and she left him there as she marched to the entrance of the next gallery.
“Well done,” came a lustrous voice.
Tesara whirled, her silk whispering around her. Colonel Talios’s mistress stood near the ballroom entrance, her dark red lips curved in an amused smile. She stood leaning against the wall as casually as a man would, her arms folded and one leg propped up. She looked Tesara up and down exactly as a man would, too, and Tesara felt all of her senses prickle, from the top of her head to the bottom of her toes.
“Thank you,” Tesara said, managing not to stutter.
Mrs Fayres pushed away from the wall and sauntered over to her. “Is that your play tonight?” she asked.
My God, she knows. “I beg your pardon?” Tesara said, panic about to overcome her.
“You told the puppy you had better things to do. Of course, that means gambling. Is that your play tonight?”
The invitation was given with a knowing look. Tesara gave her the same look back. “Yes,” she said.
Mrs Fayres offered her arm and Tesara took it. It was exactly like being escorted by a gentleman, albeit one whose scent was a simple musky rose.
“I think we’re going to get along quite well,” the Colonel’s mistress said.
Chapter Fifty-Four
“Jacobet,” Mrs Fayres said. “I’ve brought a friend.” The Colonel looked up at them. He sat with another couple. That gentleman was older than the Colonel, but his companion was even younger than Mrs Fayres, though a few years older than Tesara. Her hair was bleached and straw-like, and her eyes were aggressively outlined in kohl.
“I was wondering where you were, my pet,” Colonel Talios said. “One question – does she play?”
Everyone at the table tittered suggestively. Tesara held out her hand to the colonel, her chin raised.
“Tesara Mederos,” she said. “You must be Colonel Talios.”
The Colonel’s expression changed, as did that of everyone at the table. The charged silence was broken by Mrs Fayres’ low, melodic laugh.
“I’d say she does play, Jacobet,” she said. “This is Bunny and Firth.” She gave a casual wave to the other couple. Tesara didn’t know which one was Bunny.
“It’s hardly going to be worth it,” Bunny or Firth muttered. “Girl’s got no more skin in the game than a plucked chicken.”
“Jacobet, stake her,” Mrs Fayres said. “It’s only the right thing to do.”
The Colonel gave Tesara a fawning smile. She gave him an equally insincere one back. He pushed over a stack of coins – nothing more silver than a half guilder and only three of those. Clearly he didn’t mean to impress his bride with his largesse. Ah, well. It sweetened her pot enough to draw the game out for a few
