Masquerade Secrets Read online

  “Yes, it does matter. You left once. I need to know who you are,” he said grimly. The thought of never knowing her name didn’t sit well with him.

  “After we dance. I promise.” She looked at him earnestly. “I promise I will tell you everything after that.”

  “It’s that important to you?” She nodded and he could tell she meant it.

  Why should one dance matter to her so much? He wanted to ask her, wanted to demand answers from her after searching for her for weeks. But he didn’t want to interrogate her. He could wait. She said she would tell him anything he wanted to know.

  “All right then. Let’s dance.” He offered his arm to her, and she quickly accepted it.

  Discreetly leading her to the dance floor, he made sure that no one had noticed that they had been alone together.

  With every step he took toward the floor where others were dancing, his unease increased. He felt as if a trap was being set. But how? He was in the middle of a room with the woman he had been looking for.

  Glancing down at her, he tried to reassure himself that everything was all right, but the feeling only intensified.

  His eyes began to move back in front of him, but something dark by her neck caught his eye. A stray black ribbon on her light gown? It was almost black against her icy diamonds.

  What was it?

  Peering closer he realized it was her hair. The shiny midnight curl was stark against the white powder that dusted the rest of her hair.

  Black hair.

  Stunned, he stopped in his tracks. Black hair, not blond.

  The masked woman turned to him in surprise. “Is something the matter? The next set should be starting soon.”

  Brown eyes, not green.

  “Who are you?” he asked, an edge in his voice.

  “Your masked woman.”

  “Tell me your name,” he demanded softly in her ear.

  Her shoulder shrugged daintily. “I will tell you everything after we are through dancing.”

  With the slight gesture, he didn’t need her answer. Anger boiled within him, choking him as he swallowed it back down.

  Lady Victoria.

  She had tricked him. But how had she known about his masked woman?

  Remembering her interruption on the terrace he wanted to throttle her. She must have seen him with the other woman and overheard some of their conversation.

  All of a sudden everything about this masquerade seemed to make sense. The nameless women, the powdered hair. She must have arranged everything for this deception.

  How did she think she would accomplish that when he knew for sure that the only woman that wasn’t his masquerade woman was Lady Victoria?

  Realization hit him at once. Scandal.

  He didn’t know what would happen during this dance, but he knew that she planned to trap him into marrying her.

  “Forgive me. I just realized there is something I must do.”

  She sputtered, and he wanted to smile. They were only a few steps away from joining the others.

  Spying one of the other house guests, he called out for his attention. “Lord Rawlings, I fear I have just remembered a previous appointment, and I must ask if you will step in my place and dance with this beautiful woman.”

  “But you can’t!” she screeched.

  He turned to the fuming woman beside him, serenity written over his features. “I fear I must. I apologize for the inconvenience, my lady. I’m sure Lord Rawlings will be an excellent partner.”

  A muscle ticked in her cheek as he handed her off to the waiting gentleman, and he could tell she wanted to rail at him.

  Walking away from the couple, relief coursed through him. He should have listened to his instincts from the start. He had known something was wrong, but he had ignored it.

  Now that he knew Lady Victoria was aware of the masked woman, he couldn’t be sure how many others knew as well and would try to trick him. But he had a feeling that Lady Victoria wouldn’t have told anyone. She wouldn’t have wanted anyone else to think of a way to trap him.

  That meant that the masked woman was still out there. Perhaps even at this party. He needed to find her, but for once the thought seemed exhausting, overwhelming.

  Lady Aubrey came to mind again. Her relaxed manner, her humor, were enough to make him ache for her company. She wouldn’t try to trick him into marrying her. She would be honest with him.

  And why was he thinking of her again? Was he really so shallow that he would go from his supposed masked woman to another within a heartbeat?

  Making his way to the refreshment table, he accepted a glass of champagne and downed the contents in one swallow.

  Good Lord, he was. He was just that shallow.

  Scanning the edge of the room for Lady Aubrey, the one woman he could relax with, his brows furrowed when he didn’t see her. Hadn’t she come tonight? He quickly glanced over the people dancing, but knew she wasn’t there.

  While glancing over the dancers, his eyes stopped at the entrance. There, in the doorway, a woman in shining emerald silk entered with confidence, drawing many appreciating eyes from the crowd.

  She was here. His masquerade woman. Even as his heart rate increased, he cursed, moving toward her.

  He would have to find Lady Aubrey later. He promised himself that he would take the moment of peace with her no matter what happened.

  But for now, he had to go claim his masked woman.

  There were no doubts in his mind that this was she. Opposite of what he had felt with Lady Victoria, every step he took toward the woman in emerald felt good, it felt right. The magic he had felt that night on the terrace began to weave its spell over him again.

  Quickly approaching her, her delicately masked face darted to his and held. She recognized him. Why that one simple fact pleased him, he couldn’t say. It just did.

  “My lady, I believe this dance is owed to me,” he said quietly for her ears only, but held out his hand in a gallant gesture.

  She hesitated for a brief moment before accepting and he wanted to smile. She was nervous.

  Good. She ought to be.

  After the hell he had gone through the last few weeks trying to track her down, he was glad she was wary. She had to know that he wouldn’t easily accept that she had left him that evening without even divulging her name.

  On his arm, she glided over the floor like a goddess, ignoring the speculative looks and comments that were aimed their way. It was as if she didn’t hear them. Almost as if she were above it all. Was she truly that aloof?

  The beginning strings for a waltz began and he quickly swept her into his arms and into the twirling couples.

  It felt good holding her, right even. But there was much to say. And he didn’t intend to have that conversation in the middle of a ballroom full of listening ears.

  While he would have liked to have forgotten the deception Lady Victoria had played, he was at least grateful that she had shown him a private location that was easily accessible from the ballroom where few people would notice them.

  He was a strong lead, and had no trouble getting them to the other side of the dance floor and into the alcove.

  Guiding her in quickly, he turned, pinning her to the wall. “You, my dear, have quite a bit of explaining to do.”

  She was breathing heavily, clearly startled by the turn of events. “I’m sorry.”

  His blood raced through his veins at her voice. The tune was melodic, magical. He closed his eyes as he let it settle in his mind.

  There was a moment he thought she might deny what he was talking about, but he was grateful for her honesty.

  “I shouldn’t have left the way I did.”

  “Why did you?” he asked after a moment. He had been ready to attack, ready to demand answers from her, but the quiet apology only made him soften.

  She looked directly into his eyes, ready to confess everything to him. “I was afraid. Afraid of what was happening between us.”

  “Did you not
believe my words? Believe that I want you no matter who you are?” Frustration tinged his voice. “Tell me who you are. I don’t know how else I can prove to you that I am in earnest.”

  She shook her head softly. “It isn’t enough.”

  “What isn’t?”

  “It isn’t enough that you want me after I tell you who I really am. I want you to love the real me first, regardless of the masquerade.”

  He pushed away from the wall, turning so he could regain his composure. “How can I do that when I have no clue who you really are?”

  “You must discover it on your own.” She sounded sad by the prospect, like she couldn’t imagine him doing so. “I want you to love the real me.”

  He turned to her abruptly, gripping her arms to pull her closer. “I do. I love you, whoever you are. Regardless of who you are. Can’t you see? You’re driving me mad!”

  His lips crushed against hers, but it wasn’t a tender kiss filled with the love he felt for her. It was frustrated, angry. Pulling back, his breath came out in gasps. “Do you have any idea how the last few weeks of trying to find you have driven me mad? I looked for you. Every party, ball, soiree, musical. I looked for you, only to go home frustrated.”

  “I was there,” she whispered softly, unable to meet his eyes.

  “No.” He shook his head in denial. “I looked. That’s all I ever did. I searched for you.”

  She looked at him sadly. “I was there. In fact, we spoke on several occasions.”

  The bottom of his stomach dropped. “It’s not possible.”

  “It is. In fact, I’m staying in this house even now.”

  He wrapped his arms even more possessively around her, searching her eyes for the sincerity of her words. The brilliant green that met his eyes was full of truth, and sorrow.

  He was a blind fool.

  “Please,” he heard himself beg. “Tell me who you are. Let me prove it to you.” He would have fallen to his knees with the plea if he thought it would help.

  “I need you to love me for me. I need you to recognize me outside of this setting, this fantasy world.” Her eyes pleaded into his. “I love you, Bradford. I’m not going to hide my feelings or pretend with you. But I need you to love the real me. If not, I will always wonder. Always wonder if you regret pledging yourself to the masquerade woman.”

  He felt like a man that was slipping under water, knowing that he would drown, knowing that he would see the last glimmer of his life slowly ebb away. But there was nothing else he could do besides rip the mask off her face. The idea had merit, but he knew that she would never forgive him for it.

  Slowly, he took her lips one last time, savoring the taste of her, the feel of her in his arms. Memorizing her body, the way she fit against him, he branded her into his soul. And with every ounce of willpower, he let her go.

  He leaned his head against the wall, trying to get his body back under control before looking to her. “I will find you.” His gaze bore into hers in promise. “I will find you and then you will never leave my side again. I promise you that,” he said, his words sounding more like a threat.

  “I know. If you recognize me, I will be forever yours. I will never part from you. I love you,” she said again softly.

  His mouth opened before she pressed her fingers against his lips, preventing him from speaking. “No. Don’t say it. Tell me how you feel about me once you find me. Tell me then.”

  He gripped her wrist before she could pull it away. Slowly bringing her hand to his lips, she looked at him warily. There might be a chance that he could push her into giving him the information that he wanted, but it wouldn’t make her happy.

  He wanted her, all of her. Especially her trust. He would do this for her. He would find her. “I promise,” he whispered to her once more.

  With that promise hovering in the air, he let her slip away back into the crowded ballroom.

  Unwilling to face the crowded room, he stayed in the sheltered cove, discreetly watching as she twirled on the dance floor with another man.

  He would find her. There was no doubt in his mind. And when he did, she would be his.

  With that pledge firmly in place, he walked out of the alcove, his dukely façade securely in place.

  ***

  On waking the next morning, Aubrey concluded that she should have never gone to the masquerade the night before, but the opportunity had been too great. It had given her another night with the duke, a chance to see if what had happened between them during the previous masquerade had been real.

  It had been more than real. It had been earth-shattering.

  But now she felt even closer to him, desired him even more. She wanted him to be hers more than she had ever wanted anything before. But she wanted him to want Aubrey. Just Aubrey.

  And now he knew she was staying here.

  Bradford was a man of his word, and he would find her. Hunt her down. She had no doubt in her mind about that. It might be today or in a year, but he would find her, would finally recognize her. Was that truly such a bad thing?

  Yes.

  If only she had more time alone with him as Aubrey, she might have a chance. But why would he make time to be with her when he was looking for another woman?

  She screamed her frustration into a pillow. She was competing with herself. It was ridiculous.

  The time that they had spent in each other’s company during their ride had told her that he didn’t find her unappealing. In fact, she had thought she saw desire in his eyes for a second.

  Pausing, she thought over that moment again, reliving the glint in his eyes, the way his eyebrows had narrowed down as if seeing her body unobstructed by clothing.

  A hot feeling rushed to her cheeks and she knew she was blushing. Yes, he had found her attractive for a moment, but could she attract him again?

  He had been relaxed, carefree like she had never seen before. His smiles and laughter were treasures that she hoarded in her heart, never to be shared with another. He had enjoyed her company, she was sure of it.

  But would it be enough? If given more time, could she steal him away from the masquerade woman? A woman that didn’t truly exist?

  Ringing for Bitsy, she hurried and dressed. He would be searching for her today, was probably already down at breakfast eyeing the ladies that were in attendance, and she wanted to see what he thought.

  See if he recognized her.

  Fully dressed, she stopped in her tracks. She shouldn’t get her hopes up again. She had been sure that he would recognize her after the first masquerade, but that hadn’t happened. There was no guarantee that it would happen today either. In fact, it was more likely that he wouldn’t recognize her as the woman he had kissed.

  But she had to try. She had to see him.

  Most of the guests had finished their breakfasts and were loitering in the morning room and library, engaging in games of cards and worn books.

  Natural light filtered through the tall windows, brightly illuminating the room’s inhabitants in their colorful frocks. The flowers on the entry table, bright and cheerful, were still wet from the morning shower they had received in the garden before being cut. They were fresh, crisp, and gave the room a sweet smell that mingled with the rose bathwater many had enjoyed that morning.

  Deciding against joining in a game, she ventured to the library and chose one of the novels that had been laid out for their enjoyment. But she had no intention of reading this morning.

  Making her way back into the sitting room, she murmured a few hellos before taking a corner seat with a perfect view of the room.

  She was surprised Bradford wasn’t in attendance as more and more people began to filter into the room, but she knew he would soon join them. And she was ready to watch when he did.

  Opening the book, she was only two pages in when the air in the room changed. She wasn’t sure if it was because she sensed his presence, or if she had sensed the change he had evoked in others. In either case, she knew that he had arrived
.

  And what an entrance he made. Had he any idea how handsome he was? That just him standing in the doorway, scanning the crowd, was enough to cause more than one heart to flutter.

  His frame wasn’t overly large, but he was tall enough, and muscled enough to look imposing in the doorframe. His light morning coat, tailored to perfection, caused men to look at the design in envy. And she couldn’t blame them. No one looked like he did. No one else could be that handsome.

  The fact that he was that good looking, kind, wealthy, and a duke was enough to make him the catch of the decade. At least she believed so. She wouldn’t be surprised to find that others believed that as well.

  Joining a group of ladies playing hearts, she watched as he examined each of the women, watching the way they moved, cataloging their traits, the way they spoke. She wanted to laugh.

  To others, he would look like an attentive suitor, but she knew differently.

  After a few minutes with the women, he excused himself. Clearly he had crossed them off his list of possibilities.

  She watched as he went from group to group, chatting amiably, looking for any hints that pointed to the masquerade woman, but eventually leaving with more names crossed off his list.

  Glancing up from her book to see who he was currently evaluating, she felt a shock course through her when she locked eyes with his.

  He was coming toward her.

  Sitting a bit straighter, she placed her book down and greeted him with a warm smile that only slightly wobbled.

  “Good morning, Your Grace.”

  “Good morning,” he said before sitting across from her, his back to the room. “I hope I am not disturbing you. Is that an interesting book?”

  “It’s passable. Honestly, I was just using it to whittle away the time,” she answered frankly, barely sparing a glance at the discarded book. “You’ve been quite social this morning.” She couldn’t stop herself from prodding.

  “Yes, well, it seemed like the right time for it.”

  She tried to read if he was cataloging her like he had with the others, but couldn’t tell. “Yes, I don’t think there is anything scheduled until this afternoon. I believe most people will be rather restless by then.”