Authors: Unknown
"Yes, and he's paid with his life. If the old hag hadn't defended you…"
"Yes…" That had never been explained either. "This is it for me, Westley. We find the traitor or I die trying. The Gypsies have done everything they can to carry information for you. They can no longer be held responsible for the leak in the Home Office."
When Robert didn't reply, John turned to look at him.
Robert gazed out the grimy window, lost in thought. "It was brilliant, really," he said in a dreamy voice. "Gypsies have no nationality. And Napoleon's claims of honor for all, wealth for the common man…it's a seductive claim to a people so ridiculed by the world at large." He stood and faced John. "I'm glad you were right, Somerset. Let's get Kitty tucked away nicely then we'll deal with the traitor."
John walked to the door. The inn had been quiet for hours, and he could safely sneak away.
"I just never believed…"
John turned, his hand on the lock. "What are you talking about?"
"When Newport told me you were with the gypsies…I mean, I'd seen Michel on the estate after you left, but…"
"Oh. Well, it's almost over. Do you think I'll ever be able to reclaim my place in society…be a husband to Kitty?"
A rueful laugh escaped Robert. "You think you beyond the pale? There are rumors. You ran off because you were unhinged after your father died. You were traveling the continent until Kitty was old enough to marry; only now, you've found someone else. You are in the war, and you don't want your mother to know. You have some hideous disfigurement and cannot stand for anyone to see you."
"What a lot of rot! What will they say when I turn up whole and in my right mind?"
"Nothing. The members of the Quality love a mysterious man…and you're a duke. You'll be all the rage."
He stepped into the empty hallway. All the rage…after condemning him as a gypsy. Even Robert thought…He froze. What had Robert said? Newport told him about the gypsies. That wasn't the way John remembered it. Something was wrong, or…perhaps it was all becoming quite right.
He whistled as he strode down the stairs, uncaring if the proprietor came to throw the wicked gypsy out on his ear. Yes, everything was coming right.
Chapter 6
Two days later, John hesitated by the balustrade, observing the movements of the glittering ton below. He watched the twirling kaleidoscope of colors amidst towering marble columns and a floor so highly polished it resembled a mirror. Never had he seen so many different dominoes and masks.
In the flickering lights of the candle-topped chandeliers, the room held a surreal quality. As if everything before him was a dream. And
surely he'd never come across a mermaid or a life-sized marigold. Who was that unfortunate girl?
It looked as if most of London's peers could be found in the ballroom, and he had little desire to join them. He no longer belonged in their world. But if he wanted to keep Kitty….He had finally admitted that was a big If.
How could he be enamored of a woman he'd never seen? He remembered the child with affection, with gratitude even, for all the lonely nights when her high regard had kept him company. But that wasn't enough for a lifetime of marriage, even if most of the ton had arranged marriages. He wanted to care about his wife. He wanted to be known by her. He'd had his fill of loneliness.
Who knew the woman Kitty had become? She might dislike intensely the man he had become.
"Come on, then, Somerset. You've been standing there long enough. That footman's been waiting to announce us for the longest." Robert pulled at his waistcoat yet again.
"The footman isn't announcing anyone. This is a masquerade. And stop fiddling with that costume, Westley. If you can't stand the clothes, you should not have worn them."
Robert rolled his eyes, reminding John that he'd been in a nervous mood all night and taken most of that ill-humor out on Robert.
"Someone demanded I wear said costume, so you shall have to put up with my fidgets."
"What name will you give me? I don't want anyone to know I'm here yet."
"Are you going to keep your identity a secret from Kitty?"
"Yes...until I know her mind. There would be no point in strained conversation. Better to remain a stranger."
He searched the crush of people, for what, he knew not. Most were masked, so he wouldn't recognize even the few people he knew.
"There is your mother."
Robert pointed to an alcove on the side of the ballroom where sat a slender woman in a silver gown, drinking lemonade and nodding at her companion, a florid-faced, puffy, old man.
"What?"
John narrowed his eyes as the lady in question tried valiantly to lean away from her ardent attendant. But he would have none of it. The portly gentleman reached for her gloved hand and tugged. Without causing a scene, there was little the woman could do but assent to his request.
"It appears as if she needs rescuing. Who is that disgusting lecher?"
"Looks like Baltmore. It's his size…and definitely his style. He's always desperate for a rendezvous with some obliging widow."
John's blood boiled. His first time in society, and already he was confronted with proof that he should never have left his mother alone. Had there been other reprobates who tried to take advantage of her?
"Not with my mother, he won't. Let's go."
"Finally."
John continued to watch as his mother tried to resist being escorted to the dance floor. As Robert handed over his invitation, another figure approached his mother, a young girl in white, so sparkling and bright it almost hurt his eyes to gaze on her. She was followed by an entourage of young bucks, but her focus was clearly John's mother.
With the ease of a practiced courtesan, the raven-haired beauty smiled coquettishly at the young men, banishing them all with a word. They rushed to do her bidding, and John realized she must have asked for refreshment.
As quick as a wink, the young woman turned her focus on the odious man afflicting John's mother. She grappled with the shepherdess hook that was part of her costume, making a great show of bringing it to heel. The way she struggled, it seemed an unwieldy implement. Whyever had she decided to bring such a prop?
When suddenly she knocked a glass of lemonade into the lap of the unwelcome suitor, he knew why she struggled with the hook. It had all been a show.
Robert leaned into his ear. "She did that on purpose. Look at the old fool."
"Yes, she did."
He watched as the supposedly horrified young lady urged the fat man to his feet, gesticulating wildly at a nearby servant to help the man away. As soon as they disappeared, the shimmering sprite slid easily into the vacated seat, laughing discreetly behind her fan.
"Who is that shepherdess? She's got most of the young men here trailing in her wake, yet she came to my mother's rescue as if she knew her."
"That's Kitty."
That whimsical beauty with the tantalizing décolletage? He had stayed away far too long if that was what he'd left languishing. What chance had he now that she was the belle of the ball? She was indeed a diamond of the first water, and her ring of admirers had returned, shoving lemonade at her and pushing John's mother for introductions with Kitty.
John's mouth settled into a hard line as a young popinjay whisked Kitty to the dance floor. She floated through the dancers like a leaf on the wind, light and carefree, apparently having the time of her life. Her smile captivated, and the poor fool who'd claimed her for the dance couldn't take his eyes off her.
John couldn't either. He wanted to storm through the crowd of onlookers, yank her away from her partner, and rip that demi-mask from her face.
Her eyes! They were so alive! He was consumed by a desire to see more. Would she be as scintillating without the mask?
Robert poked him in the side. "You are staring. 'Tisn't polite. Everyone here will know exactly why you've come."
He raised his head, recognizing for the first time they'd caught the interest of everyone stationed near the stairs.
"They are probably wondering who in the world the Viscount's pup has brought with him to a fancy ball."
"I am not a pup." Robert looked down. "Do you really think everyone can see through my disguise?"
"Doubtless, there are any number of broad-shouldered, brawny redheads in London."
"I do not have red hair." Robert's face held a petulant look. "Look, the ton is at this moment attempting to recall who you are. By the way…you're Lord Knight."
"Lord Knight?" John grimaced. "Could you not think of anything more suitable?"
Robert shrugged as he pushed John to descend the stairs. "First thing that came to mind…a knight rushing to the aid of his lady fair."
"You'll be the death of me, Westley."
"If the gypsies don't beat me to it."
They reached the ballroom floor, and already the throng flooded their way, bright-eyed speculation on every masked face.
John sought Kitty's figure, but the crush blocked his view. He attempted to step to the side, until Robert gripped his forearm.
"You are not going anywhere. I have to introduce you into polite society, and introduce you I will. Now, stop scowling. You want to attract the women, not scare them away."
John smirked, as he noted the sultry interest in several women attempting to gain his eye. "I do not think that's going to be a problem. Try to maneuver us over to my mother before Kitty returns. I do not want Mother to faint from shock when she sees me."
Robert smiled gallantly and tipped his head at welcoming mamas. They weren't sure whether they wanted the urbane gypsy at Robert's side to meet their young darlings or not, but they were anxious for an introduction.
"You know, you could have a lot of fun if you weren't here to win Kitty."
"Who said I was here just to win Kitty?"
Robert snorted. "You did. One look at her, and you were drooling…Ah, Lady Fuller…and Priscilla, what a delight! Might I introduce you to my esteemed friend, Lord…John Knight."
John reached for the gloved fingers of the mama as he bent over her hand. "Your servant, madam." He smiled at the mama as he straightened, careful never to look at her daughter until he was bid.
"Lord Knight…a pleasure. Those gypsy earrings of yours look positively savage! I fear my heart nearly pattered away when I saw you standing at the head of the stairs. It's a good thing I recognized Lord Westley when I did."
"My apologies, Lady Fuller. I never meant to cause a stir," said John with an air that said quite the opposite.
She tittered at him. "Not at all, not at all, Lord Knight. May I introduce you to my daughter, Priscilla?"
The nervous young lady flew into a curtsey when John bowed to her. It'd been so long since he'd gone through all that rigmarole that he wasn't sure who was supposed to go first. He heard the girl's mother chuckling, so perhaps he hadn't completely blown it. He reached for the girl's hand and kissed her gloved fingers.
"Charmed, Lady Priscilla. Would you do me the honor of a dance later on?"
Priscilla's shocked eyes jerked to her mother, who nodded with an almost imperceptible tilt to her head.
"That would be most agreeable, Lord Knight," said Priscilla in a soft voice.
John nodded at her. She wasn't such a pain to look at with her soft, blond hair and petite features, just missing a little backbone, he thought. "Until then, milady."
They took barely five steps before Robert introduced John again. They repeated the whole process, and John moved another meter closer to his mother.
"Slow down on those dance invitations," said Robert. "At this rate, you shall be dancing all night and won't have a chance to win your lady. Besides, what will she think if you are repeatedly squiring other ladies about?"
John smiled wickedly. "She will think I'm quite desirable."
Robert shoved him out of the way of an oncoming waiter then reached up to nab two glasses.
"Yeah, well, I told you that gypsy look of yours would intoxicate the women. Here, take this glass to your mother before anyone else traps us."
John took both glasses and slid from column to column until he reached his mother. She watched Kitty, her expression wistful and perhaps a trifle sad. Was his mother lonely? Her letters never said so. She always seemed to have more than enough activities to fill her life. He was glad she'd chosen not to wear a mask. Would she know him?
After one last glance at the dance floor to see that Kitty was still occupied, John knelt beside her.
The duchess raised her head, at first in confusion, then shock, as she took in John's raiment and demeanor. A hand rose to her mouth, and her eyes widened, filling with tears.
"John?" she whispered.
He thrust a glass in her hand. "It's all right, Mother. Lift your fan or someone will note your discomfiture."
She instantly batted her fan. "Oh, John, it is you, is it not? I'd know those blue eyes and clefted chin anywhere."
"I was counting on that. You look wonderful, madam."