Night of Pleasure by Delilah Marvelle

engagement was at an end. It wouldn’t be in the least bit civilized or kind. She had to wait for the right time. Although heaven only knew when that would be given she had five hours.
    He hesitated before saying, “The banns have already been read in Saint Paul’s these past few weeks and my mother finished taking care of all the arrangements and invitations well over a month ago. I’m afraid it won’t be a small wedding. My mother had a list of more than three hundred people.”
    Oh, God. The more people they invited, the bigger the scandal. “I say we keep it small. Very, very small.” The less that was planned, the better off everyone would be.
    His mouth quirked. “No chance at that. All the invitations have already been sent. Not only for the wedding but the masked evening ball that will follow it.”
    “A masked ball? For a wedding?”
    “Yes. It was actually my idea. It’s rather brilliant.” His left brow rose a fraction. “That way, we can ignore the guests and do whatever we please.” He grinned boyishly. Setting a hand behind his back, he guided her down the corridor again, now walking beside her. “A masked ball will also ensure a measure of peace given the amount of family I have coming to the wedding. We Banfields are rarely known to keep our opinions to ourselves, especially in public. With everyone wearing masks, we’re guaranteed none of them will be able to recognize each other and all arguments will be left at home where they belong.”
    Ah, yes. She remembered those cousins. They were the obnoxious peasants in the family who had set an entire wooden crate of champagne on the late viscount’s grave, because apparently, it had been the viscount’s favorite drink. Not even a day later, one of them had come back to drink every last sip because the viscount certainly wasn’t able to.
    Banfield smirked. “I can tell by the look on your face that you’re worried about dealing with my cousins. Don’t be. I’ve learned to control them since coming into my title. It’s called ‘money’ and they love it too much to argue with me about it.” He perked. “By the by, my mother sends her apologies. She was hoping to be here to greet you but keeps a rather aggressive charity schedule that leaves her no time. I can assure you, however, she is incredibly enthusiastic about the wedding. Too much, I’d say. She plans on moving into her own townhome after we get married to give you full ownership of the house. Of course, that doesn’t mean you’ll be rid of her. She will most likely call often. Though hopefully not every day or you and I won’t have any time for each other.”
    The more he talked, the guiltier she felt. She struggled to remember all the ways she’d imagined she might get him to break off the engagement. Instead of her doing it. But in his presence, she couldn’t even focus long enough to think. “I remember her fondly,” she managed. “How is she?”
    “Incredibly well. She still misses my father, obviously, but unlike before, she has been attending more events and returning to her regular way of life.” He was quiet for a moment. “You look exactly like your portrait. I didn’t expect that.”
    “I hope you don’t think I look exactly like the portrait my father sent. I thought it rather hideous.”
    He hesitated. “I meant it as a compliment.”
    “Oh, I have no doubt, and it’s very kind of you, but you clearly didn’t notice how far apart my eyes were. The painter must have thought he wasn’t being paid enough.”
    A laugh escaped him.
    It annoyed her. “I take it you find it amusing that he painted my eyes so far apart?”
    He paused and held her gaze, growing serious again. “Well, no, I…” He cleared his throat and eyed her. “I’m beginning to remember that you don’t have a sense of humor.”
    The way he said it jangled her stomach. It was as if he wanted to be entertained. “I do indeed have a sense of humor. Ask my father.” She kept walking.