Read Online Vienna Waltz (The Imperial Season Book 1) by Mary Lancaster - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Mary Lancaster
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out.
“Aren’t you tired of adventuring?” she asked curiously.
He blinked. “Why should you think that?”
“Perhaps you have not been a soldier for very long,” she guessed.
“Six years. Or is it seven?”
“Really? Then you must have fought Napoleon.”
“All over Europe,” he said flippantly. “And I see your reasoning. Maybe you’re right and I should settle down.”
“Oh no,” she said with a quick frown. “Sometimes I wish I were a man and able to adventure about the world. Though I doubt I’d have made a very good soldier.” She sighed. “Women are so hemmed in with respectability. Unless they wish to be ostracized.”
“It isn’t fair, is it?” he sympathized. “I’ve behaved badly all my life and no one has ever ostracized me.”
“What did you do?” she asked, intrigued.
He laughed. “I can’t tell you that.”
She found herself returning his smile. “Because of my respectability?”
“And what’s left of mine.”
“But I’m the one intruding on the Emperor’s ball. Here, you are the respectable one.”
His breath of silent laughter seemed ridiculously familiar, but she couldn’t catch the memory.
“I never thought of that,” he said solemnly. “I shall tell all my friends. So tonight, the adventure is yours.”
Reminded of the true purpose of the evening, she cast another rather guilty look around the riding school, searching for anyone who might possibly be Johnnie. Some plainly dressed man, hiding a hint of scruffiness beneath an all-enveloping domino. The trouble was, all the men she could see, including her dancing partner, wore their cloaks open, or even dangling off one shoulder like her current dancing partner.
“Who are you looking for?” he asked. “Perhaps I can help.”
“I doubt it.”
“Then it isn’t really your aunt.”
“Not just my aunt,” she said cautiously.
“I sense an intrigue.”
She let out a peel of laughter. “Don’t be ridiculous. I don’t intrigue !”
“Why ever not?” he asked outrageously. “It’s one of the more fun and comfortable forms of adventuring. I suppose it comes down to respectability again.”
“I suppose it does,” she said with a twinge of regret. “Though to be honest, I’ve never yet encountered a man I wished to intrigue with .”
“Mademoiselle, you cut me,” he mourned, drawing her hand with his to his heart in mock injury.
She laughed. “No, I don’t. We don’t know each other at all.”
“That is a large part of the fun in intrigue.”
“I suppose you have a great deal of experience in that area,” she allowed. Behind the mask, she was sure he was a handsome man. He was certainly charming in some indefinable way she couldn’t help liking.
He said, “I suppose I do.”
Catching an unexpected note of genuine regret in his voice, she peered up at him more closely.
He drew in a sudden breath. “Don’t do that or I’ll kiss you in the middle of the ballroom. Too blatant for intrigue.”
“ And for respectability,” she scolded, although she felt a flush rise through her body to her cheeks as her wayward mind wondered how it would feel to be kissed by a masked stranger. This somewhat unconventional masked stranger who continued to gaze down at her, a faint, incomprehensible smile playing about his lips. She wanted, suddenly, to look away, but refused to give in to such cowardice.
Rather breathlessly, she said, “You should know I have no intention of either.”
“Either what?”
She lifted her chin. “Kissing or intrigue.”
His lips curved. “You could try one and if you liked it, move on to the other.”
Laughter caught at her breath, perhaps in shock. “No, I couldn’t. You’re forgetting the respectability.”
“But I thought you wanted an adventure?”
“Not like that,” she said with dignity, although she may have ruined the effect by adding, “And certainly not with you. I suspect you’re far too risky a proposition.”
The smile died on his
“Aren’t you tired of adventuring?” she asked curiously.
He blinked. “Why should you think that?”
“Perhaps you have not been a soldier for very long,” she guessed.
“Six years. Or is it seven?”
“Really? Then you must have fought Napoleon.”
“All over Europe,” he said flippantly. “And I see your reasoning. Maybe you’re right and I should settle down.”
“Oh no,” she said with a quick frown. “Sometimes I wish I were a man and able to adventure about the world. Though I doubt I’d have made a very good soldier.” She sighed. “Women are so hemmed in with respectability. Unless they wish to be ostracized.”
“It isn’t fair, is it?” he sympathized. “I’ve behaved badly all my life and no one has ever ostracized me.”
“What did you do?” she asked, intrigued.
He laughed. “I can’t tell you that.”
She found herself returning his smile. “Because of my respectability?”
“And what’s left of mine.”
“But I’m the one intruding on the Emperor’s ball. Here, you are the respectable one.”
His breath of silent laughter seemed ridiculously familiar, but she couldn’t catch the memory.
“I never thought of that,” he said solemnly. “I shall tell all my friends. So tonight, the adventure is yours.”
Reminded of the true purpose of the evening, she cast another rather guilty look around the riding school, searching for anyone who might possibly be Johnnie. Some plainly dressed man, hiding a hint of scruffiness beneath an all-enveloping domino. The trouble was, all the men she could see, including her dancing partner, wore their cloaks open, or even dangling off one shoulder like her current dancing partner.
“Who are you looking for?” he asked. “Perhaps I can help.”
“I doubt it.”
“Then it isn’t really your aunt.”
“Not just my aunt,” she said cautiously.
“I sense an intrigue.”
She let out a peel of laughter. “Don’t be ridiculous. I don’t intrigue !”
“Why ever not?” he asked outrageously. “It’s one of the more fun and comfortable forms of adventuring. I suppose it comes down to respectability again.”
“I suppose it does,” she said with a twinge of regret. “Though to be honest, I’ve never yet encountered a man I wished to intrigue with .”
“Mademoiselle, you cut me,” he mourned, drawing her hand with his to his heart in mock injury.
She laughed. “No, I don’t. We don’t know each other at all.”
“That is a large part of the fun in intrigue.”
“I suppose you have a great deal of experience in that area,” she allowed. Behind the mask, she was sure he was a handsome man. He was certainly charming in some indefinable way she couldn’t help liking.
He said, “I suppose I do.”
Catching an unexpected note of genuine regret in his voice, she peered up at him more closely.
He drew in a sudden breath. “Don’t do that or I’ll kiss you in the middle of the ballroom. Too blatant for intrigue.”
“ And for respectability,” she scolded, although she felt a flush rise through her body to her cheeks as her wayward mind wondered how it would feel to be kissed by a masked stranger. This somewhat unconventional masked stranger who continued to gaze down at her, a faint, incomprehensible smile playing about his lips. She wanted, suddenly, to look away, but refused to give in to such cowardice.
Rather breathlessly, she said, “You should know I have no intention of either.”
“Either what?”
She lifted her chin. “Kissing or intrigue.”
His lips curved. “You could try one and if you liked it, move on to the other.”
Laughter caught at her breath, perhaps in shock. “No, I couldn’t. You’re forgetting the respectability.”
“But I thought you wanted an adventure?”
“Not like that,” she said with dignity, although she may have ruined the effect by adding, “And certainly not with you. I suspect you’re far too risky a proposition.”
The smile died on his
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