this?â
âA performance of some kind, Iâm told,â Julia whispered. âWe are waiting for it to begin.â
A raven-haired woman in a blue feather mask stepped forward and clapped her hands for attention. A jolt of unexpected awareness washed through Simon, tightening in his groin. He would recognize her anywhere. Layers of gauzy blue silk comprised her dress, the skirt falling to the floor in waves. The fabric stretched across her small breasts to push the plump mounds up. More enticing was the dazzling smile she wore, the radiance she exuded merely by breathing.
Not that he would ever allow himself down that path again, but one couldnât help but notice.
At Maggieâs command, the orchestra struck up a jaunty tune. Three men dressed in rough sailor clothing appeared and began to sing a popular sea tale. The words had been slightly altered to make them more ribald, commenting on the mermaidsâ breasts and loose morals.
The guests roared their approval as the song reached a conclusion, with the sailors expiring when the mermaids rejected them. Everyone clapped enthusiastically while the actors bowedâas much as one could bow while encased in a fabric tail. Once the adulation died down, one of the sailors rushed over to Lady Hawkins, then lifted her up and shuffled to the pool. Laughing, she clutched his shoulders as he pretended to drop her into the water. Everyone in the room gaspedâsave Simon, who was too busy gritting his teeth.
The sailor finally set her down on the ground, and she kicked off her slippers and stepped into the shallow pool. The crowd began hooting and cheering as she performed a few dramatic dance steps, a playful, masked water nymph showing off for the crowd. The idiocy of attending tonight hit Simon with all the subtlety of a wooden mallet. Why the hell was he here?
âI like her,â Julia murmured at his side.
âYou would.â
âYou liked her once as well,â she continued, her eyes fixed on Maggie. âOr need I remind you?â
No. He could remember only too clearly. But those days had long passed. âI forget the two of you never met. She debuted the year you married Colton.â
Maggie climbed onto a rock recently vacated by a mermaid and bowed. The room broke out into riotous applause. Simon clapped as well, though heâd shown more enthusiasm during a political opponentâs speech.
No one seemed to notice, however. Maggie held the room enthralled, so damn beautiful no one dared look away. Holding her hands up for quiet, she called, âYou are too kind. My thanks to our mermaids and sailors. Now we dance!â
The crowd dispersed, with most headed toward the champagne while the orchestra struck up a waltz. A few guests circled around Maggie, but Simon stayed close. Colton fetched fresh glasses of champagne and chatted with his wife while Simon waited.
After what seemed an eternity, Simon saw his opening. The group around Maggie thinned so he moved in to hover at her elbow. She glanced up, the green gaze sharpening behind the mask, and he saw her shoulders stiffen. Blue peacock feathers twitched and bounced as she turned to excuse herself. When her companions departed, she said, âLord Winchester. This is a surprise.â
âGood evening, Lady Hawkins.â He quickly made the introductions and, despite her apparent displeasure at Simonâs presence, Maggie fussed over the legendary Duke and Duchess of Colton.
âI am so pleased you both came,â Maggie said with an elegant curtsy. âIâve longed to meet you both for ages.â
âLikewise,â Julia returned. âThe performance was inspiring, and I adore your costume. Are you Amphitrite?â
âNo. I am the humble Naiad Daphne.â
âAh, but she gives Apollo a merry chase,â Colton noted. âA formidable woman if there ever was one.â
âAll women are formidable, Your Graceâor havenât