Masked Love (A Christmas Regency Novella) (5 page)

“I hope so.” Adrian swallowed hard. He had not wanted to leave his mother’s side. The physician had said some promising words, but his mother had always been frail. If anything should happen to her while he was here …

“Now then, it’s time for the documents to be drawn and signed. There’s the matter of the dowry and … ”

He swigged his remaining drink. It was going to be a long afternoon.

Adrian closed his eyes for a moment, and the sweetness of Isabelle’s singing voice washed over him.

Yes, a very long afternoon indeed.

After returning to the manor, Isabelle had started toward her room when Adam the butler informed her that Lady Theodosia had need of her, so she changed direction and went to her lady’s bedroom. There she found her charge sitting beside her mirror, her eyes closed.

“May I help you?” Isabelle asked.

“I have a headache.”

Without a word, Isabelle walked over and massaged her temples.

“Oh, thank you. That feels wonderful. My last maid pressed too hard and made my headaches far worse.”

Lady Theodosia often had headaches, so Isabelle had quickly learned the right amount of pressure to use. She also knew it was best for her not to speak.

“Good servants are hard to find,” Lady Theodosia continued. “Have you thought of what you will do after I’m married?”

Cry. Curl up into a ball. Rip out my hair.

“I was wondering if you would be opposed to staying on and coming with me. Move in with us.”

Isabelle was so shocked, and devastated, at such a request that her fingers stilled. Her palms grew dewy, and her fingers slipped. To recover, she quickly resumed massaging.

“Ouch!” Lady Theodosia cried. “You’re hurting me.”

“I’m so sorry.” Isabelle backed away, her head down.

“Are you feeling quite all right? You seemed fine this morning, but then with the singing and now …
Are
you ill?”

“I’m fine, milady. A little tired, is all.”

“You’re sure nothing is wrong?”

Isabelle still couldn’t look her lady in the eye and shook her head.

“All right then. Helen and Pamela should be arriving shortly for luncheon. Will you serve us?”

She blinked then fell into a curtsey. “Whatever my lady wishes.” Normally, Lady Theodosia stated Isabelle would help, not ask first. Her lady’s cheeks were quite pale, but her eyes were sparkling. She was happy.

Because her friends were coming over? Or because she was engaged to a wonderful, handsome man?

A man who stole time away from her to waste on her maid.

***

Isabelle threw herself into her duties and poured more tea in Lady Pamela’s porcelain teacup. The fruit was running low—Lady Pamela had a tendency to eat enough for two to three men with hearty appetites—and Isabelle rushed to the kitchen to fetch more. An apple threatened to fall, and she struggled to catch it and not drop any others when hushed tones came to her small ears from the other room, and she strained to listen.

“He was the most handsome man I had ever seen,” Lady Theodosia was saying.

Me too.
Not that she had seen many handsome men, at least not that she had danced with.

“And brown eyes, just like our tea. And hair as red as a flame.” Lady Theodosia giggled.

An apple dropped. So did a pear. And Isabelle’s jaw. Brown eyes, red hair? Why Lady Theodosia wasn’t talking about Lord Adrian after all! Adrian had green eyes and brown hair. Heat had radiated from his strong body as they sat near each other on the log, heat that now caused her cheeks to flush.

She grabbed the ripe fruit and stole another moment to compose herself before walking inside the room. None of the ladies looked over at her; it was as if she was invisible.

As soon as she refilled the fruit bowl, Lady Pamela reached for one. She bit into the apple, and some juice sprayed onto the tablecloth. Isabelle would have to remove the stain. “Do you know his name?”

Isabelle stood behind her lady’s chair, against the wall, in case any of the trio would have need for her. Careful to keep her churning emotions to herself, she kept her gaze on the back of Lady Theodosia’s blond strands.

“No. Nor where he’s from or anything about him at all.” Her lady sounded so despondent Isabelle sympathized with her. She knew exactly what her lady was going through, although her own plight seemed even more hopeless than Lady Theodosia’s.

Lady Helen giggled. A slight woman with golden curls and a wide smile, she looked far younger than her fifteen years. She bit into an apple. Her dainty bites had hardly caused a dent in the fruit yet. “Did you tell him anything about you?”

“I … I wanted to.”

“So that’s a no. Now what are you going to do?” Lady Pamela asked.

“There’s nothing I can do! Lord Adrian seems nice enough, and he is handsome too, wait until you see him, but something’s missing.”

Lady Helen patted Lady Theodosia’s hand. “I know what you are going through. I went through it too. Is it not preposterous that both your parents and mine actually arranged marriages for us? Pamela is so lucky she has a say in who she weds.”

“Not that that will be any time soon.” Lady Pamela brought her hand to her forehead. “Laura has to marry first, and Sophie too. Who knows if there will be money left for a dowry for me?”

“I have an idea!” Lady Theodosia clapped her hands. She held up her tea cup.

Isabelle rushed forward and lifted the teapot. Only a drop poured out. “I’ll fetch more.” She gripped the handle so tightly her knuckles turned white. With small steps, she inched to the door, hoping to hear Lady Theodosia’s idea, but her lady was silent.

Nothing she could do but open the door and latch it behind her. Her small ears strained to hear the hushed whispers the ladies shared amongst each other, but their words were too soft and did not carry.

A lump formed in her throat. She must stop this nonsense. Lord Adrian was not hers. She had no claim on him.

Before she took a step, one voice reached her loud and clear: “I do love watching a fox hunt. Maybe
I
could tempt him away.”

Isabelle’s body shook. The notion of Lord Adrian being with Lady Theodosia was unbearable, yet tolerable. But for him to be with Lady Pamela, that was inconceivable. Lady Pamela was spoiled and pampered and treated her maids so poorly, none lasted more than a few months at a time.

Her legs like tree logs, she slowly made her way to the kitchen to fetch more tea. Never once did she hum. She had no more songs inside her.

The paperwork was more than Adrian had expected, and he rubbed his temples.

“It’s a lot to take in. Marriage is a big step,” Lord Haywood said.

Adrian agreed. Especially when forced into it. When his father had first reminded him of the old promise, Adrian had laughed, thinking it a joke. No one other than royals had arranged marriages. But no, his father had been quite serious. And Adrian had been quite adamant that he would not agree to it. His mother had wailed and huge tears gushed from her eyes, and his father had shouted and thrown plates. It wasn’t until his father had threatened to cut him off without a penny to his name that Adrian relented.

But now, after reading the contract and knowing how much money was involved with marrying another gentry, Adrian’s rebellious side wanted to rear its ugly head again.

Not that he could easily walk away from Lady Theodosia. Now that he knew her, he couldn’t tarnish her reputation like that, especially not on Christmas Eve.

Lord Haywood held out a quill pen, and Adrian could ignore it no longer. His arm slowly rose, and his fingers brushed against the soft feather.

Before he could remove it from the lord’s grasp, a knock sounded at the door.

Relief flooded through him, and he turned to see Lady Theodosia there, two ladies beside her.

“Father, might we steal Lord Adrian away? We want to celebrate Christmas Eve.”

Adrian held up his hands as if to say “I’m sorry but I must go,” and did his best not to run to her side, although he rushed over with greater speed than he probably should have.

“What do you lovely ladies have in mind?” he asked, keeping his gaze on his future wife. He held out his arm for her to take. She did, her hand hardly touching his sleeve.

Another lady took up his other arm as he allowed Lady Theodosia to dictate where they were heading, which was the parlor, if he was not mistaken. “We thought perhaps you could tell us about your most daring fox hunt,” the lady said, her voice oozing with enthusiasm.

“Oh, pardon my manners,” Lady Theodosia said easily. “This is Lady Pamela, and Lady Helen. Ladies, this is Lord Adrian.”

She had not introduced him to her friends as her betrothed. One of her friends, he hadn’t paid enough attention to know who was who, continued to press him for details about hunting. This led him to suspect one thing—Lady Theodosia was also not the happiest about their arranged marriage.

His heart swelled at the thought for only a moment before he scowled. Even if he were to find a means out of the marriage, he would still have no means in which to be with Isabelle, other than the mistress route. If his father cut him off, he would have nothing to offer her. Not a home, not food nor fancy clothes, nor the chance for happiness.

Lady Theodosia led him to the couch. He attempted to sit on the end, so as not to be forced to sit in between ladies, but proper manners dictated they sit first, and of course, one lady sat in a chair, and the other two left the middle of the couch available.

Instead of sitting there, Adrian sat in the other unoccupied chair. If Lady Theodosia was going to play a game, he would have a say in the rules.

Her one friend, the slightly plump one, was looking at him expectantly.

A story she wanted, a story she would get.

“Now this wasn’t an organized hunt, but one time, a friend and I decided to go out hunting. We had our rifles and found tracks.”

“I’m sure you’re a master hunter,” the eager friend cut in.

“Hush, Lady Pamela,” Lady Theodosia said. Only the other friend seemed uninterested, more intrigued by him and Pamela, her gaze shifting between them, a curious curl to her lips.

“Actually, my friend is a much better tracker than I am, but we managed to find a fox trail. We followed it all the way to its cave.”

“Oh my! Were you scared?” Lady Pamela asked. “I would have been terrified!”

Adrian lowered his head to hide his smirk. He couldn’t have been scared; the event hadn’t actually happened. “My friend ran inside first. He fired his gun, and I rushed ahead, not wanting to miss all of the fun.”

Lady Theodosia winced at his word choice. He should have worded it better. Too late now.

“My friend had shot the fox in the leg. For some reason, he had his rifle turned around to butt the creature in the head. The fox reached for the rifle to bat it away, and the rifle went off again. Thankfully, I had shoved my stupid friend out of the way, so neither of us was injured by the blast.”

“Oh,” Lady Pamela breathed.

“I killed the fox, and that was that. It was also the last time that friend went hunting.”

They all laughed.

The ladies began to converse amongst themselves, and Adrian nodded and smiled. Thankfully, the other ladies left shortly thereafter. He didn’t bother to look at them as he said his adieus; then he sat back in the chair.

Lady Theodosia patted the seat beside her on the couch. “Sit here, please.”

“What game are you playing?”

“Pardon?” Her blue eyes grew wide, but her nose twitched slightly and a faint color painted her cheeks.

If she wouldn’t be forthcoming, perhaps he could trick her into sharing the truth. “You went to the masquerade ball yesterday. By yourself?”

“N-no.” Her eyes widened even more. “Of course not,” she added smoothly. “What lady would go to a ball without a chaperone? Why, did someone say otherwise?” Now her eyes narrowed, and she turned to face the door.

“Did you enjoy yourself?”

“I had a pleasant evening, yes. What is this all about?”