“What do I do if the wig falls off?”
“Send a footman. I’ll meet you in the retiring room to fix it. But try not to let the wig fall off.” Darling smiled, then waved her out of the room, giggling a bit when Lottie had to turn sideways to fit the wide panniers through the door.
The view from the top of the staircase was designed to impress. Beeswax candles illuminated the foyer with a warm glow that carried the faintest scent of honey to where she stood. White flowers were draped from everything stationary. Her aunt did know how to make an impression.
Standing a head above most of the others in the foyer, Ethan made it awfully easy to admire the picture he made in his black coat and costume. Sauntering down the steps and grinning like a fool, she met him halfway when he bounded up to meet her.
Ethan swept a courtly bow. “Fair shepherdess. You’re a bonny vision, as expected.”
“A wolf? Really, Ethan?”
Fuzzy gray wolf ears poked from Ethan’s wayward curls. She might not have taken enough off the top when she cut it. That, or his curls truly had a mind of their own. The memory of that first night together, exchanging orgasms before the kitchen hearth, ignited the now-familiar burn of desire in her belly. His gaze behind the domino mask felt like a caress as he blatantly perused her costume and gave an appropriately wolfish grin. Lottie petted one of his costume ears, rearranging a curl to cover the fastening clips.
“Should I be quaking in the presence of the Big Bad Wolf?”
“The Big Bad Wolf will eat you up at the first opportunity, I promise you.” Ethan’s mask almost hid the wicked glint in his eye. “Look, I even have a tail.” Sure enough, a matching length of gray fur trailed out from beneath his coat.
The earliest guests trickled through the door. Mindful of the eyes on them, Lottie offered her hand. “I wish I could greet you properly.” Truly, the weeks since leaving Woodrest had been the longest of her life. This last week especially—waiting for a reply from Father and wondering if her mad plan to marry the man who’d ruined her would come to fruition—had taken its toll. Sleepless nights wanting the comfort of his arms while she concocted contingency plans for the likely event that Father wouldn’t see reason.
Ethan placed an openmouthed kiss on her palm, pulling her from her musings. His lips against the white of her glove sent curls of sensation up her arm. “We’ll steal a moment tae ourselves as soon as we can, lass.”
The trickle grew to a steady stream. As hostess, Agatha was in her element, greeting friends, then directing them to the ballroom without ever letting on that she’d essentially herded them like cattle. Lottie took her place at Agatha’s right hand, with Ethan beside her.
When the arrival of guests trailed off to a trickle once more, Agatha said, “Amesbury, if you would be so kind, please open the floor for dancing.”
“I don’t know how I’m going to manage dancing in this gown.” Lottie shook her head and immediately regretted it when the wig shifted precariously. She froze, afraid to move.
“Nonsense.” Agatha sniffed. “I danced at court in that gown. Several of the Russians copied the design, I’ll have you know. Turn sideways through doors when needed, hold your head steady, and try not to think too hard. You will be fine.”
Lottie took Ethan’s arm, which shook with his barely contained laughter. “The best advice she could give was ‘Don’t think too hard’?”
In the center of the ballroom, beneath a chandelier heavy with swags of white flowers, Ethan drew her closer. “I have faith in you, Princess.”
At the nickname, Lottie stuck out her tongue, then heard a titter travel through the room. Ah, yes. The ever-present spectators to their courtship. She huffed under her breath and tried to lengthen her neck under the weight of the wig. Her aunt’s faultless posture made so much more sense now.
“I don’ envy you the task of navigating in that dress, but you look beautiful.” Ethan placed a palm at her waist as the opening strains of music floated through the room.
Lottie scanned the faces around the edges of the ballroom.
“Who are you looking for?”
“Just making sure Montague hasn’t found a way in. He wasn’t invited, of course. But you never know. Can you believe he’s just happened to be in the square three times in the last few days? He doesn’t live near here as far as I know. Didn’t try to call or anything. He knows we wouldn’t allow him inside. Instead he just watches. It makes me nervous.”
Taking their cue from the music, they began to dance. “Calvin has eyes on him tonight. Montague won’ ruin our night, lass. Cal and I have been buying debts from the gaming tables, and today we wrote his father, calling in the lump sum. Danby will insist Montague retreat tae the country, and he’ll no’ be around tae cause trouble for you. But still, take a large footman when you go out until he’s no longer a threat. Please? I don’ like that he’s loitering outside.”
“Fine. We will enlist the burliest footman we can find. Do I want to know how much this plan has cost you?”
His dimple flashed. “Didn’t Agatha say we shouldn’t discuss money in company?”
Lottie squinted, giving him a false glare. “Fair enough. For now.”
By the time they’d completed one circuit of the room, other guests were joining them on the dance floor. Ethan was a confident, although not terribly graceful dancer. He tended to charge through the steps with little regard for musicality. But he held her gaze as they worked through the turns of the dance, focusing all that determined energy on her, which made her almost dizzy. Lottie’s internal temperature rose another degree, while
