Even now he could picture her. She’d been so uncomfortable with her role as seductress. He wished he could explain to her that she didn’t need smoldering looks, or a breathy voice.
Her sensuality was natural, not some learned art that was boring in its repetitiveness. When she’d tried to mimic other women, it was wrong somehow. Like a pink rose trying to be red, all because the other roses were.
Isn’t that what he’d been asking her to do? Conform. He sat back in the cushioned seat, barely aware of the voices around him. He didn’t want her to be something she wasn’t, but what he wanted didn’t matter. After all, she wasn’t his wife, and never would be.
The carriage slowed, caught up in the long line of vehicles waiting to deposit their patrons.
“It’s time for us to put on our dominos.” Anna could barely sit still.
Her excitement made everything seem like fun. It helped Alex hold to her resolve to enjoy the evening. She glanced around the carriage, amazed at the various dominos her friends had chosen to cover their faces.
Anna wore a white feather concoction that almost came to her mouth. Lady Bradford preferred red velvet, a startling contrast to her black attire. Morgan chose a geometric diamond pattern, the same on that appeared on one leg of his hose and doublet.
Declan was the only one who hadn’t joined into the fun. He wore his normal black and white evening attire, his only concession a black silk domino. She found the mask boldly seductive. Even in the half-light of the flambeaux, she could see the startling blue of his eyes.
When his gaze turned to her, she fidgeted with the layers of her gown. It was difficult enough to sit on the edge of the seat so she didn’t crush her wings. She didn’t need Declan’s disconcerting looks.
She breathed a sigh of relief when it was finally their turn. They descended from the carriage into a mass of humanity.
Touted as the highlight of the Season, the masquerade was hosted by the Duke and Duchess of Westerham. As they were close friends of King George, rumor spread that he might make an appearance, although he hadn’t attended public affairs as of late.
She rather hoped he’d come. She’d only seen him once, just before the start of her first Season. At the time, she’d been so concerned with following all the rules for presentation to royalty, she couldn’t even remember what the king looked like.
Their small group struggled up the stairs of the grey-stone mansion. She kept her gaze on Declan. Taller than most of the men, she spotted him easily, as did the woman nearby who cast him appreciative stares.
She arrived on the second floor without crushing her wings. Quite an accomplishment, considering the press of revelers.
When they reached the recessed ballroom, she peered down from her vantage point at the top of the stairs. The floor seethed with costumes and swirling color. With everyone wearing a domino, you couldn’t recognize individuals. Instead, she felt as if she were entering an enchanted land of beasts and magical folk.
A long queue of guests waited to be presented to the host and hostess. Declan avoided them and led their little group along the chair-lined walls to an area near the orchestra.
The dexterity of each dancing couple amazed her as they vied for their spot on the marble dance floor. She thought she recognized Lord Avery, and was sure of it when he headed toward them.
“Countess, how lovely you look!” Lord Avery acknowledged her companions and made an elegant bow to her. “Your costume is beyond compare.” His appreciative gaze gleamed behind his domino of black and silver.
Smaller than Declan, Lord Avery was rather plain, although not unattractive. He wore his brown hair powdered, unlike Declan’s raven locks.
Stop that!
She felt foolish for comparing her suitor to a man she couldn’t have. After a quick glance at Declan’s impassive face, she turned her attention to her admirer. “Lord Avery, how nice to see you.” Her voice was warmer than usual, to make up for her uncharitable thoughts.
“Ah, so I’m found out. And I thought my costume a good one.” Dressed as a knight of old, with chainmail and a surcoat, he did appear more dashing than normal. He gave her a tentative smile. “I was hoping to speak with you later. Perhaps you would save a dance for me?”
“I’d be delighted.” She wished her words were true. Lord Avery would be a very uninspiring husband, but he appeared to be the best of her choices.
She focused on his departure, so the low sultry voice to her right took her by surprise.
“Lord Worthington, I’ve been looking for you.” Catrina wore a costume fit for a princess. Her low-cut, frothy pink creation came complete with a matching domino comprised of feathers and pearls.
Alex felt underdressed.
Catrina crossed to Declan, took his arm, and rubbed herself against him. “I’ve missed you.”
Declan didn’t appear pleased by Catrina’s announcement. In fact, he seemed rather annoyed. “I’ve had matters to attend to.” He stepped away.
Catrina kept her hold on him. “There’s someone I’d like you to meet. Do you think I could pry you away from your friends for a few moments?”
Declan didn’t look like he wanted to go, but he nodded and followed her through the crowd. Alex watched until he was swallowed up by the swirl of costumes.
Morgan leaned over and spoke to her quietly. “She’d not be letting him go easily.”
“I’m not asking her to.”
“Aren’t you?”
“No, Lord Worthington doesn’t want me.”
“Doesn’t he now? And what might you be basing that bit of nonsense on?”
She couldn’t tell him Declan had practically laughed at her attempt to seduce him. “He’s made it clear he’s not interested, and at this point I need to find a husband.”
“You’re not thinking of doing something foolish, are you?” Morgan looked concerned. “You still have the rest of the Season. There’s no rush.”
“My cousin isn’t giving me the luxury of time. I told Lord Worthington I’d select a husband tonight.” She turned away. “It’s the only thing I can do.”
“Is it, now?” Morgan’s voice sounded thoughtful.
Lord Brighton saved her from any further conversation by spiriting her away to the dance floor.
Alex needed to escape. The crush of people and Declan’s apparent indifference wore away at her resolve to have a good time. Thank God she’d been able to bow out of the dancing, using her costume as an excuse, but that meant she was stuck carrying on light banter with her suitors.
At the earliest opportunity, she sent the young men on various tasks and went in search of Declan’s cousin. Anna was ensconced amidst her normal group of admirers. A dark-haired man, dressed as a pirate, hovered over her hand as if he never intended to give it up.
“Lady Anna,” Alex said. “I’m going out for a breath of air. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
“Lady Lochsdale, do you really think that’s a good idea? Perhaps I should go with you.” Anna’s voice lacked enthusiasm.
“No, I’ll only be gone a few minutes. You stay.” She turned and left before her friend’s conscience could get the better of her. She wanted be alone to think about what to tell Declan.
It wasn’t nearly as crowded on the stairwell, and she could walk easily by the time she'd reached the doors that led out back to the gardens.
For the first time, she appreciated the elegance of her surroundings. Formal gardens descended off a paved terrace. Flambeaux lit several walkways, inviting her to explore their depths. She chose a path to the left and wandered down the stone steps.
Several minutes later, she came upon a hidden water garden enclosed by hedgerows. At the center of the small pool stood a whimsical fountain. Several winged cherubs poured water from an urn, while white marble dolphins frolicked below.
She crossed to the pool and knelt down, trailing her fingers through the cool water. On impulse, she removed her slippers and placed them at the edge, then lifted her skirt, and waded out to the center. It wasn’t very deep, coming just below her knees, but it felt wonderful.
“Aren’t you taking the costume of a water fairy a bit too seriously?” A smooth dark voice sounded above the tinkling fountain. “Though I do admire the view it affords me.”
Startled, she searched for who had spoken. She recognized Lord Duprey by the hooded monk’s robe he’d been wearing earlier. In the flickering firelight, the costume did nothing to dispel her unease, especially as he was standing in the only exit to her secluded garden.
She felt for the reassuring heaviness of her knife. Thank God she’d sewn a sheath for her blade into a pocket, after discovering she wouldn’t be able to wear her customary boots.
With as much speed as possible, she got out of the pool and put her slippers on while he watched. “What are you doing here?”
“I followed you, of course.” He crossed over to the pool, standing closer than she’d like. “Lord Worthington tells me you’re going to decide whom you’ll marry this evening. I wanted to make it very clear that I’m interested.”
He’d removed his domino. She could see the silver glitter of his eyes, in spite of the shadow cast by the hood. She moved out of his reach. “I’m flattered, but I’m afraid I’ve chosen another.”
“That would be a shame.” He stepped closer. Before she realized what was happening, he’d reached up and untied the ribbons to her domino. The green and gold creation fluttered to earth. “There, now I can see your beautiful face.”
She started to bend down to retrieve it, but he grabbed her shoulders and forced her to look at him. With her right hand, she reached for the blade in her pocket.
“You don’t know what you’d be missing. I kissed you once long ago,” Lord Duprey said, lowering his head to hers, “but my passion wasn’t fueled as it is now.”
The demanding kiss made her feel ill. Even when Declan kissed her in anger, it had never been like this. She worked feverishly at the knife in its secret compartment. Her hand closed over her weapon as she brought her knee up to Duprey’s groin. She didn’t hit her mark, but managed to break free and back away.
He laughed, his teeth shining white in the dimness of his hood. “A fighter. I like that in a woman.”
Lord Duprey started toward her, but she held her blade out between them. “If I were you, I wouldn’t come any closer.”
The man had the audacity to smile as he continued to advance. “Do you think that little thing will stop me?”
“I’m betting it would.” Declan’s voice came from the shadows. “But then again, if it didn’t, I’d have to.”
Her guardian stood in the shadows, with his shoulder resting against one of the solitary pillars scattered throughout the gardens. With his arms crossed over his chest, he looked as if he didn’t have a care in the world. Relief flooded her, not that she couldn’t have handled the situation.
“This is a private conversation.” Lord Duprey no longer sounded quite so cocky. “It doesn’t concern you, Worthington.”
“Doesn’t it? Last I knew, Lady Lochsdale was still my ward.” Declan moved a few steps closer.
“Consider carefully, Lady Lochsdale,” Lord Duprey said. “I could ruin you. A woman who carries a knife is scandalous,” he said, taking another step toward her, “but add a few well-placed rumors about you and your guardian, and you’d never be accepted in polite society again.”
“The Countess of Lochsdale has been well chaperoned.” At the control she heard in Declan’s voice, she backed up. “As for the knife, it was a part of her costume.” He gave a slight shrug as he stepped away from the pillar.
Her attacker recognized his danger too late. In an instant he found himself dangling up against the shrubbery, Declan’s hands around his throat. The smug look on his face changed to desperation as he attempted to breathe.
“Now, we’re going to have a little chat,” Declan said. “You will not be spreading unfounded lies about Lady Lochsdale, will you?” Judging from Lord Duprey’s bulging eyes, Declan had increased the pressure. The man could barely shake his head from side to side.
Declan released him suddenly. Duprey fell to the ground, his dark monk’s robes pooling around him. “If I hear even the slightest whisper of scandal, I’ll come looking for you. Do we understand one another?”