The Watch

Chapter Nine

Void In My Mind

Lake; it swirls.

Everything spins

Round in my head,

Blinding my vision;

Crushing my sense.

I don't know

Who you are

And the case is always

Misleading

I don't know

Who I am

And the case is always

Betrayal.

I can't tell

Why I'm here

And the case is always

Sanity

I close my eyes

I grip myself

And then I let go

Of my true judgment.

This sinister darkness

Consumes me tightly;

And I feel the sun

Deceiving me.

And I feel the fire

Destroying me.

And I feel the gust

Icy smile;

Just forget it.

I don't know

Who to trust.

This obscurity

Is absorbing me

Like a

Winter chill.

Summer blaze.

Like a

Tower; a tower

About to collapse.

Like a

Whirlwind

Deep inside me.

It's like a

Void in my mind.

© Copyright 2003 Akanksha Mathur Chibi Dude (FictionPress.Net ID:179287). All rights reserved. Distribution of any kind is prohibited without the written consent of Akanksha Mathur Chibi Dude.

'Striking woman that Mistress Shickovavich.' The Minister of Dark Animals came to stand beside his father in law. He began to sneeze copiously into his handkerchief. 'I hope she isn't discriminated for her appearance. Takes some nerve to appear in public like that.'

'Ja'dores is not going to kill her.' His son in law didn't smile as he offered this curt comment. The Minister had correctly guessed that Lucius Malfoy was staring at the lady who'd just entered the ballroom at Ja'dores on the arm of her husband.

The three elegant salons at the assembly rooms were thronged with those fortunate members of the people of England to be approved by the fourteen-member committee of those behind Ja'dores and its draconian rules that ensured three quarters of England's rich, famous and powerful knocked in vain for admission. Among that made up and elaborately coiffured crowd at this subscription at this party, Mistress Shickovavich's appearance was remarkable.

She wore her hair simply, her complexion innocent of makeup.

Ginny paused instinctively in the entrance to the ballroom, and Draco taking his cue from her, paused too. A whisper rushed through the room; then every eye turned toward the double doors.

Ginny's insistence on making her first serious public appearance in this unusual fashion had amused Draco. He'd gone along with it because he couldn't see that it would do any harm, but when he'd watched her descend the staircase at Dover Street that night, he understood exactly what she was about. The men would flock like vultures. The women would hate her, of course. Such a perfect complexion, such wonderfully unusual colouring, displayed without artifice. Virginia had no need of beauty patches to draw attention away from scars, or rouge to brighten a complexion dulled by lack of sleep, overindulgence, the clogged grease of makeup and thick-caked powder.

Her hair piled high off her forehead and falling in soft curls to her shoulders, glowed in the candlelight in all its natural glory, setting off the pale translucence of her cheeks and the deep-set tawny gold of her eyes. Her formal gown was a dainty confection of white muslin opened over another coat of apple-green silk, the white sleeves of the gown falling over her wrists. An oval, dragon broach tucked into the low neckline drew attention to the swell of her bosom while seeming discreetly to conceal it.

All in all, it was a masterly costume designed to complement the Madonna-like innocence of her face; the delicate curves of her body, yet at the same time, with its bold rejection of convention, to hint at a certain recklessness of character, a touch of defiance and mystery.

She would have the men at her feet in minutes, or such had been his initial assessment. Ann underestimation, he now realized, as the Vice Minister of Magic moved his substantial bulk across the ballroom, his face red and sweaty, a lascivious gleam in his eyes and an eager smile on his lips.

'Madam.' He bowed low. 'What a vision... a refreshingly unusual vision, indeed. Pray introduce me to your wife, Vladimir.'

Blandly, Draco performed the introduction, and the Minister seized Ginny's hand. 'Where have you come from, my dear lady? To think of all the months we've been languishing here without a sight of you. How could you have kept yourself so far from our eyes?... Indeed, how could you have permitted this sly dog to steal you before anyone else had a chance?' He wagged a plump finger at Draco and laughed heartily.

'You are too kind, sir.' Ginny curtsied, her eyes darting around the circle of men gathering behind the Vice Minister.

'Oh, no no no. Oh, no, I believe not,' declared the Minister. 'Not too kind... not possible. Such a ravishing creature, Vladimir. You're a dog... to steal a march on us like this. Where did you find her?'

For all the world as if she were a rare specimen of insect life discovered under some remote stone, Ginny thought.

'In the country, sir,' Draco responded as blandly as before. 'In Northumberland, where I was recently visiting.'

'Northumberland!' the Minister turned his little eyes upon Virginia in some astonishment. 'Gad, I'd never have believed it possible. Very far north it is, isn't that so?' He glanced behind him for corroboration.

'Yes, sir,' agreed someone. 'I believe it's quite a distance from London.'

'Gad,' repeated the Minister, examining Ginny through his squinting eyes. 'If they keep such beauties as this up there, I must pay a visit, meself... what?' He laughed heartily at this sally and extended his hand. 'Come dance with me, you ravishing creature.'

'But I've not yet been given permission by one of the committee,' Virginia demurred, fluttering her fan. 'I shouldn't wish to break the rules, Minister.'

The man roared with laughter. 'As if you haven't already done so, ma'am. Dolly... Dolly, come over here and give this exquisite creature permission to dance with me.' He beckoned vigorously to a lady in dress robes of lilac tabby, her massive hair decorated with a score of tiny furry animals peeping from between what looked to Ginny to be tufts of grass.

The woman named Dolly advanced, a stiff smile for the Vice Minister on her lips. She stared rudely at Ginny and curtsied infinitesimally. 'Mistress Athena Shickovavich.'

Virginia swept an elegant and deferential curtsy in response. 'Ma'am.'

'If you wish the name of a competent hairdresser, Mistress Shickovavich, I should be happy to furnish you with one.'

Ginny curtsied again. 'You're too kind, ma'am.'

'I am aware that people do things differently in the country,' the lady stated, her nose twitching, her mouth pursing. 'But we don't bring country ways into London, madam. They don't suit.'

'Oh, I believe there's always room for improvement, ma'am,' Ginny said sweetly. 'Even London should be open to modern ideas.'

The woman stared at her in disbelief, clearly wondering if she'd heard aright. Had this newcomer actually had the temerity to describe London fashions outdated?

Draco raised an eyebrow. Perhaps Virginia didn't understand the weight of this woman's influence. He was searching for something to smooth over the jagged silence when the Vice Minister burst into a hearty peal of laughter.

'Quite right, Mistress Athena. We're shockingly stuck in our ways here. Too much convention and protocol and the Lord knows what else. It's all the fault of the Ministry y'know. Devilish strict and old fashioned it is. Just wait until it's my turn... then we'll see some changes, you mark my words.'

This shockingly unfilially statement that could only be interpreted as a desire to hasten the Minister's demise was received in a silence so deeply disgusted that Ginny's minor challenge sank without trace.

The Vice Minister seized her hand and whirled her away onto the floor, where a set was forming for a country-dance.

'The Vice Minister is still young... and somewhat headstrong,' Draco observed quietly, bowing to the older woman, offering a smile that invited her participation in this mature reflection. 'Youth tends to be.'

'Yes, of course,' the woman agreed, dabbing her upper lip with a scented handkerchief. She examined the figure of Minister Shickovavich and seemed somewhat mollified by what she saw. The Minister was dressed in black silk, his hair without gel and tied loosely at the nape. He wore a gold fob and a diamond pin sparked blue fire against the blinding white of his shirtfront. His expression was attentive, his smile pleasantly complicit, as if his last statement were offered as much as excuse fore his young wife as for the Vice Minister of Magic.

'Youth must be guided by their elders, Minister Shickovavich,' she said after a minute, her eyes venturing pointed towards the dance floor and the unconventional Mistress Shickovavich. 'Your wife appears to lack town bronze, sir.'

'Oh, I don't believe that's the case.' Minister Malfoy spoke suddenly from the attentive circle around them. 'I suspect Mistress Shickovavich merely dares to be out of the ordinary. What do you say, Shickovavich?'

Draco bowed in his father's direction, his eyebrows lifting, a glint of humour in his eyes. 'An accurate assessment, I believe, Malfoy.'

Lucius's full mouth twitched into a thin smile. His gaze returned to the puffing ballroom antics of the Vice Minister with an expression of frigid disgust, but as his eyes moved to the Minister's partner, a spark of interest flickered below the cold grey surface.

How could Lucius sense nothing? Draco wondered. Every time they exchanged looks or words, his own body temperature seemed to rise, his blood to quicken in his veins as recognition and recollection hammered at the gates of his soul. Yet Lucius showed not the slightest sign of unease or puzzlement in his son's presence. Perhaps because he knew his son to be dead, there was no room for even an inkling of some disturbing twitch of recognition.

'You met Mistress Shickovavich in Northumberland?' Lucius asked casually, turning away from the dance floor.

Draco smiled politely, 'yes, while I was visiting old family friends.'

'This is her first visit to London, of course.'

Draco nodded. 'We thought to postpone our honeymoon until after the birthday.'

The Queen's birthday was in June and marked the end of the Ministry season. Lucius nodded again, his gaze returning to the dance floor. 'But a honeymoon in London at the height of the season has its charms for the uninitiated, I would imagine.' Lucius bowed and strolled away, making his way around the outskirts of the room where the chaperons sat in groups, sipping drinks and gossiping.

The Lady Narcissa Malfoy, sitting bodkin between two starched matrons, looked up as he approached her, a nervous smile on her lips. She patted her coiffure, straightened the lace at her neck, her eyes filled with anxious appeal as she awaited some humiliating public criticism of her appearance. But her husband merely looked through her as if she were a flobberworm and passed on; leaving her as mortified by his lack of acknowledgment as if he'd heaped scorn upon her.

The name of Mistress Shickovavich was on every tongue. And it stayed there throughout the evening. The Vice Minister of Magic refused to relinquish the lady, and Draco watched from afar as she became the centre of the Vice Minister's own sycophantic circle of young reprobates.

Ginny knew as well as did Draco that for as long as she was favoured by the Vice Minister, society might criticize, but it would never ostracize. For the plan to work, she must be identified with a circle that drank deep, played the tables to ruination, and threw conventional ethics to the four winds. The Vice Minister of Magic's intimates formed such a circle, and by the end of the evening she'd deflected a dozen oblique suggestions and turned down four outright proposals, one of which came from the Vice Minister himself.

'La, sir, but I'm a married woman,' she protested as the Minister held her hand tightly between both of his hot palms and beamed at her.

The Minister guffawed but looked genuinely taken aback by this cavil. 'I'd hardly suggest it, my dear ma'am, if you were not. A man can't enjoy himself with an unmarried gal. Now, don't tell me Minister Shickovavich is such a spoilsport as to be a jealous husband.'

'Why, sir, I don't believe he'd been a husband long enough as yet to know whether he is or not,' she returned demurely. 'I think it's a little soon to be contemplating a leap from the marriage bed. We've only been wed two weeks.'

The Minister chucked and patted her cheek. 'A forthright woman, that's what I like. No missish nonsense about you. Well, well, my dear, we shall see how long it takes for your husband to start wandering. And when he does, I dare swear you'll look upon the matter with new eyes.

'Perhaps so, sir.'

Where exactly was Draco? It was two o'clock in the morning, and Virginia glanced around the supper room, where the company had for the most part adjourned to nibble oyster patties and bread and jam and sip champagne.

She caught sight of Draco in a window embrasure, deep in conversation with a highly made up woman in a gown of deep crimson taffeta, a diamond collar glittering at her throat. Two heart shaped beauty patches adorned the upper swell of her breasts, and when she moved an arm sideways to take a piece of bread and jam from the table, her right nipple popped out of her décolletage. She made no attempt to replace it, and as Ginny watched, Draco delicately reinserted the nipple into her gown with a long, slender forefinger.

The lady laughed and tapped his cheek with her closed fan. Draco's lazy half smile played over his lips as he leaned back against the wall, turning the stem of his champagne glass between finger and thumb.

'There, you see!' pronounced the Vice Mister Constantinople, whose gaze had followed Virginia's. 'Not a man to wast a minute is he? Shickovavich's known as a philander, dear lady. Can't expect a marriage vow to change a man's character.'

Ginny offered a smile and a shrug of indifference.

Constantinople chuckled, wrapping an arm around her bare shoulders, his fingers playing with the broach at her neck. 'Such a modest little thing,' he murmured. 'No chance of your revealing a little too much of anything, is there, Lady Shickovavich. Not like Mistress Les Sables... eh?'

'Mistress Les Sables has the advantage of me, sir.'

'Oh? Hows that?' The man's little eyes focused blearily. 'A little more flesh there, is that it?' He patted Ginny's bosom with a grin.

'No, sir. She has the advantage of years,' Ginny said smoothly, taking a step backward from the Minister's fingers.

'Oh, wicked! Such a little cat with her claws,' the Minister boomed, highly delighted with this sally. 'But I tell you, madam.' He wagged a finger at her. 'Blaise Les Sables would have your eyes out for that.'

'Indeed, sir. I tremble.' Virginia was at a loss to understand why there was an edge to her voice. Blaise Les Sables was Draco's old friend... she was nothing to her. Draco was simply playing his part, as she was playing hers. However, he'd certainly looked as if he was enjoying himself, dabbling in the lady's bosom. But then, why shouldn't he? It was no business of Virginia's. So why was there this dismaying curl of indignation in her belly?

As she watched, Draco bent his head, his mouth close to the lady's ear. Mistress Les Sables' laugh shrilled abruptly over the hubbub in the supper room.

'They seem to be amusing themselves.' The dry voice spoke her thoughts. Lucius Malfoy stood at her shoulder, his gaze fixed on the play across the room. A smile was on his lips, but it was a smile that sent a shiver down Virginia's spine.

She looked up meeting his eye, and was startled by the strangest sense of discordance, as if the rather beautiful face was not what it seemed. As if behind the smooth, broad expanse of his forehead, the clear grey eyes, the almost delicate features, lurked something venomous.

'Yes,' she said coolly, unfurling her fan. 'They do --as does everyone else in the room. I do declare, sir, that this has been the most entertaining evening I've passed since we arrived in London.'

'Oh, the best value in town, ma'am,' the Vice Minister declared. 'A ten-galleon subscription for the jolly weekly ball throughout the season... and such an elegant supper!' The group around him laughed dutifully at the heavy-handed sarcasm, and Ginny smiled.

'I am new here, sir. My tastes are still unformed.'

'Oh, but not for long, I'll wager,' one young Minister said with a leer. 'I trust we may call upon you, Mistress Shickovavich. Dover Street, isn't it?'

'I should be honoured.' Virginia curtsied to the Vice Minister of Magic. 'I beg you to excuse me, sir. It grows late, and I should return to my husband's side.'

'Allow me to escort you.' Lucius Malfoy offered his arm with a bow.

'Thank you, Minister.' She placed her hand on his sleeve, and they moved away from the still-chattering circle around the Vice Minister.

'You seem to have made a conquest of His Royal Highness, the Vice Minister. You're to be congratulated, ma'am.'

'Is it matter for congratulation, sir?' Ginny looked up at him with a bland smile. 'I would have thought it the opposite. He does not appear to be particularly discriminating in his tastes.'

Surprise flashed across the slate-grey eyes bent upon her countenance, and the bud of interest they held burst into full flower. He smiled, and this time it was a warm and appreciative smile that seemed to bathe her in approval. Virginia felt herself smiling in response, and it took a moment of effort to remind herself that this man was Draco's father.

'It's good to see you're not blinded by consequence, ma'am,' the man said. 'The Vice Minister is a fool, but he can be useful if he is played right.'

'I had rather assumed that, sir.'

Lucius's chuckle was abruptly cut off as they approached the embrasure, where Draco and Blaise Les Sables still stood, deep in conversation, their heads very close together.

'La, sir, but you have a wicked tongue,' trilled Mistress Les Sables, tapping his wrist smartly with her fan. She turned to greet the new arrivals, her eyes very bright, and her colour higher than could be accounted for simply by rouge. 'Why Minister Malfoy, I didn't realize you were here this evening. Minister Shickovavich has been so monstrously entertaining, I've scarce had a moment to look around.'

Lucius bowed. 'Then I'm certain there must be a great wailing and gnashing of teeth among your admirers, madam.' His tone managed to imply that he was not of their number, and Lady Les Sable's china-blue eyes flashed.

'I don't believe you're acquainted with my wife, ma'am.' Draco stepped into the breach with a lazy smile. 'Athena, pray allow me to make you known to Lady Les Sables.'

'An old acquaintance of yours, sir?' Virginia inquired with a sweet smile as she curtsied to Blaise.

'Oh, no, a very recent one,' Draco corrected.

'I was sure you must have known each other since you were babes in arms,' Virginia returned. 'I was hoping Lady Les Sables out of friendship for you, would show me how to go on in Ministry society. She must have had so much more experience than I.'

Draco swallowed an appreciative grin as Blaise looked daggers at the smooth-complexioned woman smiling at her with such deceptive innocence.

'Your husband, my dear Lady Shickovavich, has had quite sufficient experience to perform that service for you,' Blaise said. 'Indeed, it surprises me he hasn't explained Ministry society fashion for you. To allow one's wife to appear in such undress is... well, is quite cruel.' She tittered and batted her eyelashes at Draco.

'Oh hardly cruel, ma'am,' he murmured. 'But I do believe one should learn through one's errors. What do you think Malfoy?'

The question was startlingly sharp, belied by his air of languid amusement. Virginia waited for the earl's response, struggling with her resentment. For some reason she'd expected Draco to defend her against that attack, instead of which he seemed to be agreeing with Blaise Les Sable's mocking assessment.

'Oh, I believe Mistress Shickovavich knows exactly what suits her,' Lucius said. 'A woman who knows her own mind is always so refreshing. One is surrounded by so many sheep in Ministry society.' He smiled at Mistress Les Sables, but his eyes were grey ice, and he hesitated a moment too long before adding, 'Present company excepted, of course.'

'Of course,' Draco said, turning to Virginia. 'If you're ready to leave this scene of dissipation, my dear, I'm at your service.'

'I'm quite ready.' Virginia offered Minister Malfoy a curtsy. 'You're very gallant, sir.'

'I speak only the truth, madam.' He bowed and took her hand, raising it to his lips. 'I trust I may call upon you.'

'I should be honoured... Mistress Les Sables.' Another curtsy and she placed her hand on Draco's proffered arm.

They moved sedately through the rooms, down the stairs to the hall. Draco sent one servant scurrying for their cloaks and a second to call their limousine. They stood silently in the hall under the brilliant light of the three chandeliers. The silence seemed awkward. Virginia tried to think of something to break it, but she felt strangely out of sorts, annoyed and resentful, through she could think of no good reason for it. Draco appeared as relaxed as ever, one foot tapping on the granite floor in time to the strains of music drifting down from the ballroom, his gaze roaming lazily around the crowd for departing revellers.

'Oh, my dear, Mistress Shickovavich, leaving us so soon.' The Vice Minister of Magic tottered and swayed down the staircase. He grabbed hold of the banister as he reached the bottom step. 'Come and play cards, ma'am. I can promise a good game at Mistress Mount Edgecombe's tonight.' He offered a skewed wink at Draco's direction. 'Your husband, I'll wager, isn't averse to a game of power. Eh, Shickovavich?'

'On any other evening, sir, I'd be overjoyed,' Draco responded. 'But my wife is fatigued.'

'Oh, yes... yes, of course.' The prince nodded sagely, tapping the side of his nose. 'And you're but new to the marriage bed. What... what?' he added in imitation of the Minister of Magic, laughing uproariously, his friends joining him.

'I trust we can persuade you to play at Dover Street on some evening,' Draco suggested once the paroxysms had faded somewhat.

'Oh... oh, what's this, then? Settin' up a faro house of your own, are you?' The Minister's eyes sharpened as far as they were able to. 'Is Lady Shickovavich going to join out Sphinx's poison, then?'

'I can promise an amusing evening, sir,' Virginia said smoothly picking up her cue. 'I'll not presume to rival the salons of Mistress Buckinghamshire or Mistress Archer or Mistress Mount Edgecombe, but I believe you might find some entertainment at our house.'

'Oh, wonderful... wonderful,' the Vice Minister declared, clapping his hands. 'D'ye hear that, fellows? Mistress Shickovavich is to join the ranks of Sphinx's poison.' Leaning over, he kissed her heartily on the cheek. 'Send an owl, dear lady, when the tables are set up.'

'Minister Vladimir Shickovavich's limousine!' a voice bellowed from the door. The servant ran up with their cloaks, and in the flurry the Vice Minister and his cohorts moved noisily away. Draco draped Virginia's cloak around her shoulders, took his own from the servant, and escorted her outside.

King Street was lined with cars, link bulbs running up and down the street to illuminate the street. Two women appeared from the alley leading to the Minister of Magic's Place, their gowns and hair artfully disarrayed. They lounged against a wall, watching the scene.

The Vice Minister of Magic bumbled through the doorway behind Virginia and Draco. With a whoop he charged across King Street to the two women. 'I've a mind to visit to the nunnery after all that respectable insipidity,' he bellowed at the top of his voice. 'Take me to your abbess, my dear delights.' He swayed off down the alley, arm in arm with the two prostitutes, his cohorts following eagerly in his wake.

'What a poxy horrible creature,' Ginny declared with feeling.

'He probably will be carrying a disease if he goes with those whores,' Draco observed. 'There are clean houses in the Minister's Place and Convent Garden, but for some inexplicable reason our esteemed heir to Ministry of Magic prefers to dabble in the sewers.' He moved aside to hand Virginia into the car.

As she put one foot inside the car, a thin lady enveloped in a puce velvet cloak emerged from the assembly rooms. She caught her foot in a loose paving stone and pitched forward with a cry of dismay. Draco dropped Virginia's hand and ran to help the woman to her feet.

'Are you hurt, ma'am?' He picked up her fallen reticule and handed it to her.

'No... no, I thank you, sir. So stupid... so clumsy of me.'

'But you are ever thus, my dear,' came a cold voice behind her. Lucius Malfoy surveyed his wife with an air of utter contempt. 'Stupid and clumsy as a flobberworm. Aren't you, madam?'

Narcissa Malfoy looked down at the pavement and wished it would open up to swallow her. There were people everywhere; eyes and ears open to catch her husband's icy contempt.

'Aren't you, madam?' he repeated with a deadly ferocity.

'Yes, Lucius,' she said softly. 'Yes, I do beg your pardon.' Tears filled her eyes and she kept her gaze lowered staring wretchedly at the ground.

'Do you intend to stand here all night?' her husband inquired. 'Allow me to point out that the car awaits your pleasure, my dear.' He gestured to wards the limousine with the Malfoy insignia above its number plate, and the two burly servants who were staring rigidly ahead down the busy street.

'I beg your pardon,' Narcissa apologized again, stepping towards the car. She clambered awkwardly over the poles to enter through the front, the wide swinging of skirts of her gown making her inherent clumsiness even more announced.

Draco stood in the shadows, watching, waiting for his father to offer a hand to assist his wife, but Lucius remained where he was, his lip curled in disdain, until the door was closed on Narcissa. The two servants sat inside the car, and headed down King Street, threading their way through the traffic.

Lucius spun on his heel and walked away in the opposite direction. As he passed Draco, he walked beneath a magically lit lantern floating above him, and the golden light illuminated his face. Draco saw the Lucius that only he had known in his childhood. The face that was no longer a beautiful mask but the true reflection of the twisted soul beneath. His eyes were narrowed, his mouth thinned with malice, his entire expression radiating the triumph and satisfaction of the sadist who had just inflicted pain.

Draco turned back to the car, where Virginia still stood poised, one foot on the step. She hadn't heard the exchange between Lucius and his wife but had sensed its vicious nature. Now Draco's face sent an icy dart through her belly. He looked haunted, pain etched in every line of his countenance, but it wasn't that that turned her blood to water- it was the fearsome anger that superseded the ghostly pain.

'What was your childhood like?' she asked softly, involuntarily.

Draco's eyes focused abruptly. 'You don't need to know that.' He took her hand and with his other palm in the small of her urged her upward into the car.

'There is an evil in him,' Virginia declared with a fierce intensity, arranging her skirts on the leather squabs. 'I sense it, and I know that you know it. And yet you would have me seduce this man without telling me your future plans. Is that fair Draco?'

Draco sat opposite her. He regarded her in the darkness of the car, frowning. 'Fairness never was a Malfoy trait,' he said eventually. 'Yes, Lucius Malfoy is evil. But I won't permit any harm to come to you at his hands. If you fulfil your side of this bargain, you have no need to know what I know, and you need have no fear of him. He hurts only those in his power. And you will not be.'

'How can you say that?' Virginia expostulated. 'How can I not be in his power when I am in his bed? What power does a woman have in those circumstances?'

'Oh, you'd be surprised how much,' Draco said, his voice now light.

'I don't find it a subject for jest,' Virginia said tightly. 'You know perfectly well what I mean... how vulnerable I will be in such a situation. This one preys on the vulnerable, you've just said so.'

'My dear, you will not be vulnerable in the only way that appeals to Lucius,' Draco said, leaning back, folding his arms. 'He's interested in hurting souls, not bodies. And your soul will not be in his power. Besides, it may not be necessary for you to make the' - he paused as if considering his words, and then said wryly- 'the ultimate sacrifice.'

How could he make a joke of it? How could he be so derisively dismissive about something that touched her so nearly? Was it really a matter of indifference to him whether she prostituted herself to Lucius Malfoy or not? But he probably didn't see it in those terms. No one in this depraved society would think twice about it. They all played these sordid little games.

Draco had closed his eyes as if to indicate that the subject had ceased to be of interest. The car had slowed at the crossroads, and a light shone through the window. Lamplight and shadow played over the plane of his closed face, throwing the harshness of his mouth, the clenched set of his jaw, into sharp relief.

His expression was utterly uncompromising, and Virginia was learning when it was pointless to push this man whose bed she shared, whose body she was growing to know almost as well as she knew her own. He could switch in the beat of a bird's wing from an amused and amusing companion to a chilly, distant, and dictatorial stranger. And she had not as yet learned how to resist those dictates. Anymore than she'd learned to resist the magnetism of his personality, the way he could sweep her along his chosen path, making light of her objections when he didn't ignore them totally. Anymore than she could imagine turning away from him when he reached for her with the hands of lust and eyes filled with passion.

'We made a good start this evening, I believe,' she said in level tones, drawing her cloak around her shoulders against the night frost.

Draco's eyes opened and rested on her countenance. She saw softness now in the grey depths and a glimmer of amusement. He began to count on his fingers as he spoke. 'Yes, you've managed to arouse Lucius's interest and the Vice Minister's unbridled lust; to establish yourself as a lady who enjoys pushing the bounds of convention; and to issue a general invitation for high stakes gaming in your salons.'

He smiled lazily. 'Against the law, of course. Justice Kenyon threatened Mistress Buckinghamshire with the cart's arse if she came up before him for running a gaming house.'

'He couldn't have meant it?' Virginia's eyes widened as she imagined the obese figure of Mistress Buckinghamshire whipped at the cart's tail.

'No, I don't think even Kenyon would dare to punish a member of the blue-blooded aristocracy in such a fashion,' Draco agreed with a chuckle. 'But the threat caused some alarm.' He linked his hands in his lap, and the emerald on a slender forefinger glowed dully in the darkness.

'And while I was being so busy, what did you achieve this evening?' Virginia asked with a touch of acid, reminded of how that particular finger had tidied up Mistress Les Sable's escaping nipple. 'Did you contrive to meet your prey?'

'I don't believe they were there,' he said, making a steeple of his fingers. 'I didn't see them, at all events.'

'I see. And Mistress Les Sables? Was she useful to you in any way?'

Draco looked sharply at her. 'Why the acid tipped tongue, Virginia?'

Virginia turned her head on the seat top behind her and gazed out at the darkness. 'I just wondered why, while I was enduring the odious attentions of the Vice Minister, you were amusing yourself. I thought this was a joint enterprise.'

'I was making it easy for you, my dear Virginia.' He sounded amused, and she wanted to throw something at him. 'Blaise Les Sables is Lucius Malfoy's whore. I thought to prod him a little in your direction... to give him a reason to get back at me.'

'I doubt he required a prod,' Virginia retorted. 'He seemed quite interested enough in me before you started dabbling in Mistress Les Sables' bosom.'

Draco laughed. 'Such games are played, sweet innocent. A little dalliance means nothing... particularly with a known whore like Blaise Les Sables.'

'You don't care for her?'

'Oh, she can be quite amusing, particularly when she's annoyed. But she's a trifle overblown for me. I prefer my women a little fresher.'

'Oh, you do, do you?' Virginia glared at the pale glimmer of his face across form her. 'Like meat in the butcher's shop- best if we haven't been hanging to long.'

Draco's jaw dropped. 'Now, just a minute, Virginia. Why are you so set on pulling caps with me? We've had a very successful evening. My quarry are not going anywhere- indeed, they'll be beating a path to Dover Street once the news of a high-stakes gaming table is spread around. And we can leave the spreading to the Ministry's mouth,' he added dryly.

When she made no response, merely continued to stare out of the window, he leaned over and took her gloved hands in his. 'What's troubling you, sweet?' His voice was as dark and smooth as caramel, and she could never resist the endearment that belonged in glowing candlelight and soft silk sheets and accompanied leisurely caresses and the languor of fulfilment.

She couldn't admit the truth. Jealousy was a demeaning and petty emotion.

'I expect I'm fatigued,' she said with a little laugh that didn't sound particularly convincing to her ears. 'Over excitement, probably. Rubbing shoulders with Ministry royalty... sharpening swords with the likes of Mistress of Deerwater.'

Draco was not convinced, but he didn't challenge her explanation. 'Do you have the courage to continue ignoring the dictates of fashion?' he asked neutrally. Releasing her hands and leaning back again.

'I don't believe it requires courage,' Virginia said, accepting the change of subject with relief. 'It might if I looked like a freak, but since I know I don't then...' she shrugged.

Draco relaxed. Her confidence pleased him. It was certainly not misplaced. She'd been the cynosure of every eye all evening. Not every eye had been admiring, of course, but one couldn't expect to stand out in a crowd without drawing resentment.

All in all, it had been a most satisfactory debut. It was only to be expected that Virginia would have a few flutters of apprehension and uncertainty, particularly in the aftermath of the evening. Such vulnerabilities would undoubtedly disappear as she became more accustomed to the part, and as the play took shape.