He’d kept his flirting to a minimum, had only asked pointed questions that could help him with the game. And once Camilla had stepped into the room, he’d given her all his attention. Not wanting to appear too forward, he’d admired the most intriguing painting in the room, giving her five minutes before seeking her out. A perfect fucking gentleman, he thought with annoyance.

And yet she’d been completely, infuriatingly, unimpressed that he’d swooped in to catch her cup and save her from ruining her gown. No matter that he’d been the one to cause her unsteadiness in the first place. Prince Gluttony had claimed that that move always worked to woo a mortal. According to his brother, mortal women loved a dark hero. As if heroics were determined by an unsullied cup of punch.

But, as usual, Envy was discovering that Gluttony was a moron when it came to courtship. Camilla’s tongue had been as silver as her hair, lashing him with her quick dismissal.

If he was going to try seduction as his second attempt at securing her help, he’d have to tease out what aroused her. Surely she had some fantasy he could toy with.

The parade finally entered the dining chamber, and Envy schooled his features to hide his distaste.

The long cloth-covered table had been dressed in candelabras and an ungodly number of crystal vases. Wisteria—that must have come from a hot house and cost a small fortune—was the flower of choice, and he knew from the way Camilla’s eyes squeezed shut for a moment that the detail hadn’t been lost on her, either, and it didn’t please her.

Intriguing.

“Where is your family from, Lord Synton?” Lady Edwards asked, her voice cordial as she brought Envy’s attention to her. “Is Synton a western surname?”

“Southern,” he said evasively.

She gave him a once-over as she unfolded her napkin in her lap. He had the distinct impression that she was mentally flaying him, in search of his deepest secrets.

“I saw you speaking with my friend earlier. How do you know Miss Antonius?”

“I’m an art collector and her gallery came highly recommended.”

“Mm.”

Lady Katherine sipped her water.

Envy didn’t need to use his supernatural ability to sense emotions to know she was skeptical of him.

“Many gentlemen find themselves very intrigued by her… art.”

His sin ignited before he smothered the sensation.

Lady Katherine turned those shrewd eyes on Camilla and Vexley, who were now seated directly across from them. A man named Harrington took his seat on Camilla’s other side, causing her to stiffen ever so slightly. Envy made a mental note to look into him, too.

“She’s quite talented, and much more modest than her father.”

Envy tore his gaze away from the artist in question. “Her father also painted?”

Of course, he knew Pierre had painted, but acting as if he didn’t would garner much more information.

“Pierre Antonius became famous for The Seduction of Evelyn Gray, among many others. Surely you’ve heard of it, even in the southern region? It’s his most famous portrait. The woman who posed was nude, except for a veil, hiding her identity. Of course, she also had great, raven-like wings. Pierre’s work often depicted the fantastical, especially what he called halflings.”

“Humans who have unique parentage,” Envy supplied.

“You could say that.” Lady Katherine smiled demurely. “Women with wings, men with horns or devilish tails. Others certainly seemed to share his obsession. Through his art, society could indulge in their own fantasies, display pieces that would otherwise be considered unholy.”

Envy listened to Lady Katherine’s unsolicited but much-appreciated art history lesson as the wine was poured. His spies hadn’t found much on the man, aside from the fact that Pierre had opened the gallery two decades prior, and died two years back, leaving Camilla alone in the world. She had no maternal or paternal grandparents that he’d found, no aunts or uncles or cousins.

Strange, he thought, given how humans bred like rabbits.

“What of his family?” Envy asked, sipping his wine.

“Pierre? He had a tragic origin. His mother and father were killed in a carriage accident when he was a boy, and he’d been brought up by a family friend. Both of his parents had been only children and their parents had also met violent ends.”

“Some might say their family is cursed.”

Lady Katherine gave him a sharp look.

“Some have said that, and they are quite obviously fools.”

He smiled faintly. She’d very delicately suggested he might be one too.

“What of her mother’s family?”

Lady Katherine’s expression shuttered. “That’s a sensitive subject I’d rather avoid.”

Envy smiled pleasantly, though inside he churned with curiosity. “No need to sharpen your claws, Lady Edwards. I meant no harm. What else intrigues Waverly Green’s finest?”

Lady Katherine went on to tell him about Pierre’s fondness for riddles and mysteries. If he hadn’t been dead, Envy would have thought he was a player in the game too. But it was clear that this fondness was shared by many in Waverly Green. How dull the games of humans, he thought while nodding along.

The butler appeared again, solemnly chiming a bell to announce that dinner was to be served. It was presented a la française, so guests began serving themselves from the wide array of entrées and side dishes a barrage of servants had placed along the table.

Platters of roasted beef tenderloin with a rosemary jus; whipped potatoes topped with chives and dotted with pads of melting butter; glazed carrots; stuffed whole fish with dull eyes; steamed asparagus; oversized prawns with their tails still attached; and tenderized chicken breasts with a rich lemon cream sauce made their way around the table.

Envy could have done without the accusing stare of the fish, or the manual labor involved in cleaning the prawns, but kept his thoughts from his face. The food was otherwise decent and the company of Lady Edwards surprisingly tolerable.

Once they’d all sampled the first round, the second was brought out. Dishes inspired by the southern region of a nearby realm took center stage.

A salad made of oranges, diced onion, and pine nuts tossed with a tangy dressing made of salt, pepper, oregano, and oil and vinegar.

A second fish course came out, bringing a genuine smile to his face. It reminded him of his sister-in-law’s family restaurant and a dish served there. But in no other way did this feast compare to the luxury of dinner parties back home. Though he didn’t like to admit it, Envy’s brother Gluttony had recently impressed him, fashioning candles from bacon lard that, once they’d been lit and melted, created a rich, decadent sauce for the shaved Brussels sprouts.

Of course, his brother was highly motivated to have the best, most talked-about parties—he was locked in a feud with a reporter whose dismissals of him proved quite inspiring.

On and on the dishes came, and so did the wine. Blessedly.

He downed one glass and called for another, earning no admonishments. In fact, several other guests did the same.

Apparently, Waverly Green’s high society grew bored with their pompous, holier-than-thou ways too. Given the fact that Vexley was supposed to be a scoundrel, this dinner party was boring as sin. Envy’s masquerade next week would certainly stir things up nicely.

Across the table, the dark-haired woman from earlier, a widow named Janelle, kept trying to catch his eye. She pressed her breasts against the table as she leaned over, fully aware that the position combined with her low-cut bodice offered a tantalizing view.

Envy kept his attention on her face, where her lips were pouting ever so slightly.

“Fine wine, my lady, am I right?”

Her focus slid to his hand. He’d been absently stroking the stem of his wineglass, thinking of how to engage Camilla in conversation and draw her away from Vexley.