Walter de Ville's Advocate

Chapter Nine

Everyone was already outside, even my wives were on their way to the evening soiree, and I'd just heard Evie's name called out by Mr. Field's bellowing voice. Several deep breaths, and then I will head out.

Okay, right now.

And . . . now.

"Announcing . . . the maids of honor: Viktoria Klopstock and Lucy Billington."

Applause flitted up high over the expanse of the celebration grounds that were outfitted with an entryway, an elegant dance floor, the bar, and several gazebos glittering in the night with their fairy lights.

I stepped out of the side door near the conservatory, giving it one last glance through the tall windows before setting off for the cocktail party. These events were necessary to give the allure of class and elegance to the members of the three families, and I merely abided by them the last hundred years since it was my main outlet for socialization.

And my wives' only opportunity for such.

As I reached the entry to the party, Mr. Field took notice of me with a deep breath.

"The Lord of New Carfax Abbey, Walter de Ville."

I walked down the path lined with green archways lit up with more fairy lights, candelabras, and soft track lighting to be sure my guests didn't slip from the platform later on in the night. My arms swung at my sides, my lack of care in this event likely evident to Viktoria and Lucy, wherever they might be.

As applause filled the space once more, I scanned the crowds looking for my beautiful maiden dressed in warm gold; a color that I knew would suit her russet-brown skin tone.

Giving a short bow of thanks to my guests, I finally spotted her as she raised her glass towards me.

Lucy stood near her, and I momentarily worried that she'd ordered a glass of human blood when in the vicinity of my unaware bride. I walked straight to them, my heels thudding with every step on the raised platform that would give us a safe space to dance.

Nearing them, I could smell the rouge privé from Lucy's glass, and I spotted just small spot of it on the edge of Evie's glass, too. Lucy had clinked her glass with Evie's, and even that small splash could lead to too many questions I wouldn't yet answer.

My bride was still unaware, but luckily I had a perfect excuse to remove her from her champagne.

Giving a small glare to Lucy, one that I wasn't sure she'd notice, I grabbed Evie's drink and handed it back to the bartender. Turning to face the dance floor once more, I slid my hand into Evie's, pulling her along with me.

"Wait, what are you doing," she asked.

"It's customary that I have the first dance," I replied, which was true. One less lie.

"I told you earlier, I don't know any dances."

She was so worried about looking like a fool. Didn't she know that I was there to support her?

"It's fine. Just follow my lead."

Evie swore under her breath as I helped her into our dancing positions for a waltz, a dance older than myself. She hesitantly placed her hand on my shoulder, our arms lined up as the first few notes began to play.

"Get out of your head," I whispered, giving her a trusting smile. She gave a soft nod, easing into her place now. "Ready? One, two, three, one, two, three . . ."

Though I moved gracefully across the dance floor, her movements were still jagged and she muttered her worries just the same. We danced for another minute, her body starting to finally give over that control I needed to glide her across the dance floor.