Masquerade Secrets

By

Janelle Daniels

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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Masquerade Secrets

Copyright © 2012 by Janelle Daniels

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

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CHAPTER 1

London, 1835

If boredom could bring tears, Lady Aubrey Langston would be crying buckets by now. She sat in the parlor, sipping tea with other women of the ton as they waited patiently for the men to rejoin them after they finished their after-dinner cigars and brandy.

The meal portion of their evening had gone well, although the conversation had been quite dry. Why she was forced to endure such tedious company was beyond her. It was just the way society worked.

“What are your thoughts on the matter, Lady Aubrey?”

Jumping slightly, Aubrey realized she hadn’t been listening to the conversation.

“I’m sorry?” she asked, trying to seem like she had only missed the woman’s latest comment.

Lady Penbrook smiled patiently, clearly knowing she had caught Aubrey woolgathering. “We were speaking of Regency fashion compared to today’s fuller gowns. I was wondering which you would prefer if there were a choice.”

“Oh.” Aubrey softly set down her cup of tea on the glossy side table, giving the matron her full attention. “While the clean lines and simplicity of the gowns were beautiful during the Regency, I much prefer the gowns of today.”

The rest of the women had quieted to listen to Aubrey’s opinion. “Interesting. Why is that?”

Aubrey smiled knowingly. “I enjoy the full skirts and the more decorative designs now. You can hide any imperfection behind a dress and feel confident that you look your best. You can be anyone, anything. There was much less possibility of that during the Regency.

Laughing, Lady Penbrook nodded her agreement, her full girth bouncing with the movement. “Quite so, my dear.”

As Lady Penbrook turned to converse with another woman, Aubrey took a sip of her tea and sighed. It was the beginning of a new season, and all she could do was hope it would end quickly.

When she had come out into society three seasons ago, she had instantly bonded with Lady Sera Winters, and they had stuck by each other’s side through most of the parties.

If only she were here now.

The doors that adjoined the dining room opened; the men spilled out of the smoke laden room. Lady Penbrook rose to greet the men once again, gesturing for them to be seated on the roomy settees.

Looking up to see the last man rejoin the group, Aubrey was surprised to see a face that had been absent in recent months. Lord Bromley, the Duke of Wathersby, strode into the room with a confidence she had grown accustomed to over the last season.

“Lord Bromley,” Lady Penbrook spoke with surprise. “When you did not join us for dinner I despaired of you finding your way here this evening. I hope all is well.”

Taking Lady Penbrook’s hand, he bowed over it in greeting, every strand of his chestnut hair staying in place. “I apologize for my tardiness. I was waylaid with a matter of business that could not be detained.”

She waved aside his apology. “It’s no matter, we are just grateful that you have joined us. It has been quite lonely without you the last few months. I do hope you plan to stay in town for some time.”  Lord Bromley nodded, but didn’t expand upon his plans.

He had set his cap for Aubrey’s best friend, Lady Sera Winters, and with her scandal and subsequent marriage to Lord Devericks, he had retired to one of his estates to escape from the gossip.

This was his first appearance back into society. It was also the first time he had been unattached in almost a year.

“Please, be seated.” Lady Penbrook indicated to the open spot next to Aubrey. “I’m sure Lady Aubrey would enjoy your company.”

Indeed she would. While courting her friend, he had always managed to make sure Aubrey enjoyed herself as well. He often asked her to dance directly after Sera, making sure she always had a partner to enjoy the music with.

Wanting to reassure him that there was no awkwardness because of her friend’s union, she smiled invitingly at him, gesturing to the space next to her on the settee.

His scent hit her first, rushing into her with a force she had difficulty deflecting.

In her opinion, he had always smelled as a man should. The sharp aroma of soap clung to his skin, mingling with his own spicy scent. It was a masculine smell that didn’t cause her nose to wrinkle in disgust. He never reeked of smoke or alcohol as other men so often did. It was comforting, always allowing her to relax in his company. “Good evening, Lady Aubrey. You are looking well.”

“Thank you, my lord. You are also looking well this evening.” His formal attire was crisp, clean, almost as if he had just dressed. His shoulders filled out his coat nicely, not to the point where he looked ready to tear the seams, but enough to hint at the muscles hidden within. She knew of his strength. Enough dancing around the ballroom, his frame strong and secure, had given her all the evidence she needed. She cleared her throat, trying not to think of those muscles, or anything else of his. While she didn’t mind having improper thoughts, thinking of Lord Bromley that way was a bit unnerving. Up until a few months ago, he was all but engaged to her best friend. “I hope your journey was pleasant.”

“Yes, it was. The roads were clear and made the trip a short one.” He glanced over the rest of the group that was clearly involved in another discussion of some sort. “I hope it is not too much of an imposition,” he paused, seeming to reconsider his words before continuing. “I was wondering if you could tell me how Lady Sera is faring in her marriage to Lord Devericks,” he said in a low voice, careful not to let the rest of the room hear his request.

Discreetly glancing at the other guests to make sure they were fully occupied elsewhere, she leaned toward him. “She is doing well, my lord. She is still with Lord Devericks on the continent, and they aren’t expected back for several more weeks. She seems quite happy.”

“Ah.” He smiled ruefully. “Well, I am glad to hear she is content.”

“Yes, she is.” It was a bit awkward speaking of Sera, because she knew everything that had happened between Lord Bromley and her friend. It wasn’t commonly known that Lord Bromley had kidnapped Lady Sera and had tried to take her to Gretna Green to elope, hoping to help Sera out of an unwanted marriage, before Lord Devericks caught up with them. Had he guessed that Sera had told her of it?

She looked at him, searching his expression to see if he suspected that she knew what had transpired. “Did the country agree with you? Everyone was so surprised by your sudden withdrawal from town.”

He smiled roguishly at her, a glimmer of humor in his eye. “It was very… peaceful. I admit though that I was ready to come back.”

Looking away from him, she tried to hide her smile. So, he knew that Sera had told her, and didn’t look contrite at all. “Well, everyone will be so pleased that you have returned.”

“No doubt,” he said dryly, pointedly avoiding eye contact with a young debutant’s mother.

Seeing the interaction between the two, Aubrey couldn’t help but chuckle. “Indeed. I fear there will be many young women setting their cap for you.”

He visibly shuddered at the thought. “I do hope you are wrong.” At her arched eyebrow, he laughed. “But I doubt you are. It isn’t all that easy being an unmarried duke, you know.”

“Really? I find it hard to believe that you suffer over much from the title.”

“You have no idea. You wouldn’t be half as eager to tease me if you knew the truth of the matter.”

She regarded him skeptically. “I doubt it could be worse than being an unmarried lady.”

“You’d be surprised.” He grinned at her.

“I doubt it. You will always have the choice of whether to extend an offer of marriage or not. You may pursue whomever you wish without fear of your reputation. Women can hardly claim such freedoms.”

“Touché.” He nodded as if awarding her the point, and Aubrey couldn’t help but smile at the small triumph.

Lady Penbrook jumped up in excitement, pulling Aubrey and Lord Bromley out of their friendly banter. “What a fabulous idea!” All conversation in the room stopped to listen to what Lady Penbrook was so animated over.

Turning toward the rest of the room, Lady Penbrook gestured wildly in her excitement. “Lady Templeton has decided to host a masquerade in one month’s time.”

As the room’s noise level rose in excitement, Aubrey glanced over at the older woman who had now promised to host one of the most looked forward to events of the season. Her silvery evening gown glimmered with sequins, matching the silver plume in her greying hair.

“Lord Bromley, would you please come and offer your suggestions for the event?” Lady Penbrook trilled, gesturing for him to come forward.

With a nod to Lady Aubrey, he bravely went forth into the world of planning.

Aubrey watched him leave, willing her eyes to leave his form, but without success. He was an attractive man, but he was too far above her. There wasn’t anything wrong with appreciating his form and then moving on. And indeed she would move on. She’d have to.

The duke would never be for her.

***

Aubrey looked up from her writing desk as Charlotte, her younger sister, burst into her room, her nightdress trailing behind her like a snow flurry.

“Is it true, Aubrey? Is there to be a masquerade?”

Setting her quill aside, Aubrey ignored the correspondence she was catching up on. It was a habit of hers to do it before she turned in for the night instead of during the early hours of the morning like most women. “Yes, Lady Templeton is hosting it in one month.”

Charlotte squealed, racing over to give her sister a hug. “I can’t believe it! A masquerade within the first two months of my debut.”

Aubrey couldn’t help getting wrapped up in her sister’s excitement. There had been so many years of longing and disappointment that she had forgotten what it was like to be young and new to the glittering world of the ton. “I think we’ll have to visit Madame Devereaux’s shop early tomorrow to order our costumes. I have a feeling she will be inundated with customers very shortly.”

Madame Devereaux was a French modiste that had found great success in the ton. Her shop, located on Bond Street, was usually bustling with business.

“Yes, of course! What a brilliant idea.” Charlotte began to pace the length of Aubrey’s bedroom floor, one of her burnt-gold curls falling lose from her plait. “I must decide what I shall be.”

Aubrey skimmed over the beauty her younger sister was, admiring how traits similar to her own had turned out so differently in her younger sister. They shared the exact same shade of honey-colored hair, the same straight, pert nose, and the same full lips. But that is where the similarities ended. Her sister was reed-thin, the desirable petiteness that society had decided was all the rage. Aubrey, however, had a much different body type. She often joked that it was more suited to a mistress, lush and full in the hips and bust.

She wasn’t as tall as her younger sister either. The smallness of her own stature only emphasized her curves, making them seem more extreme.

While her looks weren’t deemed fashionable, she didn’t ever wish to change them. What would be the point? She was who she was and she was happy with herself. There were girls who were much more plain looking than she, and she was lucky that she had been blessed with what she had.

“I think I shall be a butterfly.” Charlotte nodded at her decision, seemingly pleased with her choice. “What will you be?”

“I haven’t any clue.” Aubrey wanted to laugh at her sister’s shocked face. To her, this masquerade was everything. To Aubrey, who had been in society for three seasons, this was just another ball. “I think I’ll leave it up to Madame Devereaux to decide.”

This suggestion was met with a reverent nod. “I think that is a good choice. She will know the perfect costume for you.” With a final nod, her sister smiled. “This is so wonderful. I am glad you are able to go to all the parties with me. It would be lonely without you. How did you ever manage it by yourself?”

“I had Sera,” Aubrey sighed, thinking of her recently married friend. How would she ever do without her? Sera had been her friend and confidant. But that was before her marriage. Now Aubrey was facing society, after three unsuccessful seasons, with her younger sister.

“I’m sure that was such a comfort to you.” Moving over to Aubrey’s desk, Charlotte gave her sister a hug. “She will return soon.”

Patting Charlotte’s hand, Aubrey nodded. What her sister didn’t understand was that even when Sera returned, it would be different. She was a married woman, and Aubrey was not. They would move in completely different circles until Aubrey married. If she ever married.

“Well, I’m off to bed. Let’s leave early so we can occupy Madam Devereaux as long as we wish.” Charlotte grinned before leaving the room.

Her sister hadn’t been kidding about leaving early. A little after her maid had lit a fire in the grate, Charlotte breezed into the room, opening the curtains along the way. “I’ve sent up Bitsy to help you dress, and I’ve already sent for a breakfast tray.”

“What time is it?” Aubrey looked toward the clock. “Goodness, Charlotte. Her shop might not even be open yet.”

“It will open for us.”

Aubrey saw the determined look in her sister’s face and laughed. “The shop will probably open early after the news of the masquerade.” Tossing the bedclothes aside, Aubrey sat up and slipped her feet into her slippers. “We might as well go early too.”

The grin that split her sister’s face made leaving her soft, warm bed worth it. “Excellent. I shall go change and meet you downstairs in an hour.”

Once Bitsy, her maid, arrived, Aubrey was dressed and finishing breakfast in record time. Locating a pair of gloves, Aubrey made her way down the staircase to meet her waiting sister.

“I am glad you are on time. I was worried I would have to come fetch you.”

Securing the last button on her glove, Aubrey laughed. “You really need to calm down, Charlotte. We will get to the shop on time and we will get the dresses that we want. There is no reason to worry over it, dear.”

“I know.” Charlotte let out a cleansing breath. “I am just excited. I am sorry for acting like a crazy debutant.”

“Darling, you are a crazy debutant.”

They both laughed as they made their way out the door and into the carriage.

Bond Street was already bustling with business when they arrived. While members of the ton had still to make an appearance, it was the working class that dominated the market. Waking up in the early hours of the morning gave them time to do the chores they needed to before their employers woke, and that included shopping.

“I think I shall never be sick of coming here,” Charlotte declared, looking out the window at the people running around in a frenzy.

The smell of smoke filled the air in the carriage, along with the unpleasant tang from horse droppings. “I think the stench would be enough to keep anyone away,” Aubrey said dryly.

Charlotte arched a brow at her before returning her attention out of the carriage.

Madam Devereaux’s shop wasn’t flamboyant, but rather subdued in high-class taste. Unlike their American counterparts, the English preferred clean, uncluttered lines.

Exiting the carriage, Charlotte sighed at the display window. “Isn’t that deep plum silk heavenly?”

“Yes.” Aubrey looked at it from a different angle. “It might just be the fabric for your costume. I think the deep purple tones would work well for a butterfly.”

Almost screeching her excitement, Charlotte gripped Aubrey’s hand. “You are absolutely right. Let’s make haste. I want to secure it before someone else sees it.”

Charlotte marched into the modiste’s shop, clearly on a mission.

“Lady Aubrey, Lady Charlotte. Welcome. What brings you into my shop so early?” Madam Devereaux asked with a knowing wink.  “A masquerade perhaps?”

The modiste was rather young for someone with such success. She wore a dress of deep rose muslin. The fabric was of the highest quality, attesting to her wealth. Not every dressmaker had the luxury of wearing their best fabrics.

Charlotte took an excited step forward. “Exactly. We’ve come early so we could arrive before any others.”

“Well you certainly have.” Madam Devereaux gestured toward the pedestal. “We shall take your measurements first. If you please, Lady Charlotte.”

After the modiste received a measuring device from her assistant, Charlotte stepped up on the round platform.

The tape measured Charlotte’s waist. “Have you thought of a costume yet?”

“Yes, actually.” Charlotte made sure to stand still while she spoke. “I thought I would dress as a butterfly. I think the plum silk in your window would be perfect.”

Nodding shrewdly, Madam Devereaux continued to take her measurements. “I agree. The color would do wonders for you.” Pausing a moment, the modiste jotted down some numbers, before continuing. “And have you thought of something for yourself, Lady Aubrey?”

“I thought I would leave that up to you. I think you would have a better idea of which costume would suit me best.”

At hearing this, Madam Devereaux turned with a small wink. “I have just the thing. You will have men eating out of the palm of your hand.”

“I should very much like to see that,” Charlotte said, giggling before returning to her statuesque pose.

The modiste nodded. “And you certainly will. I have just the thing for your sister.”

Aubrey blushed slightly as the modiste took another long look at Aubrey’s curves. What did the modiste have in mind? On second thought, perhaps she shouldn’t have given the final say to the modiste. Aubrey had no intention of going to a ball dressed in something that made her feel uncomfortable in mixed company.

“Do not worry, Lady Aubrey. You will love it.” With a reassuring smile, she continued, “It will not be something that will make you wish you had stayed at home because of the scandal it will cause,” she said, effectively reading Aubrey’s mind. “In fact, I will even add a little magic to this one.”

“Magic? Can you do that?” Charlotte asked, completely drawn in by the thought of a dress containing magic.

“Certainly. Just you wait and see.”

Aubrey smiled at the excited grin her sister threw at her before heaving a sigh. It would have to be some substantial magic to have men fawning all over her. In the few years she had been out into society, she had never come close to a feat such as that.

After Aubrey had her measurements taken, and the plum silk was pulled from the display window, Madam Devereaux whisked them out of the shop. “I will have these gowns delivered to your home before the masquerade. And don’t worry about a thing Lady Aubrey, it will be perfect.” The modiste gave one last wink before turning back into her shop.

The month before the masquerade flew by. The parties were the same, the people were the same. The only thing different was that she was sitting along the wall by herself. Sera had still not arrived home from the continent, and her younger sister had taken society by storm. With her popularity, it was rare that Charlotte ever got a moment to sit along the fringe of the room.

The masquerade this evening would no doubt be another triumph for her.

“Right on time, my lady.” Bitsy laid the wrapped gown on her bed. “Oh, and this note was delivered with it,” she said, pulling a folded piece of paper out of her pocket.

“Thank you, Bitsy.”

“My pleasure, my lady. I will return soon to help you dress.” With a nod, Bitsy curtsied and left.

The dress had been placed on her bed, folded in a shimmery paper that obscured the fabric from view.

Seconds ticked by as Aubrey stared at the bundled package. Her nerves seemed to stretch, fray, and end on a sizzle that she felt all the way to her toes.

Why did she hesitate to open it? The dress had rarely entered her mind over the last month, but she couldn’t seem to stop her reaction to it now. Madam Devereaux had said she would add magic to the gown, enough that men would be eating out of the palm of her hand. Of course that was nonsense, but there was something in the air, something that seemed alive and ready to pounce.

That was what had her pausing, had her contemplating the folded material.

Would it be a light silk, or a dark? Would it have ruffles and lace, perhaps even a few small gems sewn into it?

The possibilities were endless.

Reaching out, the fabric felt cold yet still soft and pliant. The silver threads in the protective layer of fabric shimmered in the soft candlelight.

With a deep breath, Aubrey untied the ribbon, hearing the satiny edges of the material whistle as they loosened.

The silver sparkle fell away, almost in deference to the gold that shone through beneath. The silk was beautiful and unlike any she had ever seen.

In reverence, Aubrey reached out to run her fingers over the shimmering fabric. Unlike the silver, the dress was warm, snapping to life at contact. Jerking her hand away, Aubrey laughed slightly. The shock the material had delivered to her finger was just a coincidence.

A quiet knock sounded at her door before Bitsy walked in again. “Are you ready to dress?”

Aubrey nodded, unsure if she could speak. What had come over her? It was just a dress. Just a silly dress she would wear to a masquerade. There wasn’t magic in it, there wasn’t anything special about it. Except that the material was exquisite. The gold silk had a swirling pattern in a darker gold, almost as if a fairy had cast the design with her wand.

Clucking her tongue, Aubrey scolded herself. It wouldn’t do her any good to think that the gown was anything more than a costume.

“This is beautiful, Lady Aubrey. I’ve never seen a gown to compare!” Bitsy said in awe as she lifted the gown over Aubrey’s head.

“I agree. The material is unique. I haven’t seen anything more beautiful.”

After the last lace had been tied, Bitsy stepped back to view her work. “It looks like it could be made with magic.”

“What?” Aubrey asked, slightly alarmed. Had she unknowingly said something in front of Bitsy?

“It looks like it could have been made with magic. I wager that gentlemen won’t be able to take their eyes off you tonight. Have a look,” Bitsy said, gesturing toward the mirror.

Looking at her reflection, Aubrey could believe the dress held magic. While she doubted it before, she was more open to the idea now. She barely recognized herself. The material gleamed in different hues of gold, all swirling into a floral pattern. The skirt was layered in petals of fabric, creating an almost fairy-like appearance. She looked lush, full, the dress emphasizing her feminine attributes instead of concealing them.

She looked like a pagan goddess. Her hair was more golden; her eyes glimmered like the rarest of emeralds. Every part of herself was enhanced, perfected.

At any other ball she would feel self-conscious, like she was showing too much of herself. But tonight was different. Tonight she wasn’t Lady Aubrey. Tonight she was a stranger. She could be anyone, be anything.

The thought excited her. For a few years she had stayed in the corner, not wanting to draw too much attention to herself. Tonight would be different.

“Aubrey, you look fantastic!” Charlotte said, entering the room with excitement. “Madame Devereaux certainly outdid herself with that creation.” A sly grin curved her lips. “I have no doubt her prediction will come to pass this evening. The men stand no chance.”

A small laugh escaped Aubrey’s lips before she sobered a bit. “Thank you,” she said breathlessly. Something was in the air tonight. She could feel it. She just didn’t know what it was.

“Mother asked me to fetch you. She is waiting in the carriage.”

Aubrey nodded, reaching toward the table for her jeweled mask, its gold ribbons trailing behind it.

Following Charlotte, Aubrey climbed into the carriage. The night was bright, clearly lit by a full moon. She wasn’t superstitious, but she could believe that magic would happen on a night like this.

Her mother and sister chatted quietly, but Aubrey didn’t hear them. It was as if a spell had been cast over her. The closer they came to their destination, the more firmly the enchantment was placed.

“Secure your masks, my dears,” her mother said as they rolled to a stop in front of Lady Templeton’s home. “We have arrived.”

Placing the mask over her face, she felt something within herself break free. This night would be different than any other, and she intended to enjoy every moment of it.

Securing the mask, she felt the thick, silky ribbons kiss her neck, sending a shiver through her body.

Walking into the large home in Mayfair, Aubrey noticed that most of the guests had arrived, lingering in either the ballroom or hall. Dancing had begun, although she couldn’t see the dancers yet, the music floated to her in the hallway.

While newly arrived guests were not being announced, they were still expected to pause at the top of the stairs so others would notice their arrival. Waiting their turn, Aubrey noticed that hardly anyone was paying attention to who arrived.

At least they weren’t until she was standing atop the stairs.

Conversations seemed to stop as she walked down into the ballroom, all eyes focused on her. If it weren’t for the confidence she felt coursing through her, the knowledge that no one knew who she was, she would be worried that something was wrong, that perhaps she had forgotten an important article of clothing.

But nothing was out of place.

In fact, she felt strong, powerful. More so than she had ever felt in her life. Every man seemed to stop what he was doing to absorb her, to take her fully in as she slowly made her way to the floor.

The attention made her cheeks sting with delight, but she didn’t hesitate. She knew that it was just the beginning.

CHAPTER 2

The boredom that Bradford, Lord Bromley, the Duke of Wathersby felt as he stood in the overly crowded ballroom was almost more than he could bear. Young debutants skittered by him speaking loudly, emboldened enough by their disguises to try to catch his attention. He wasn’t a fool. Everyone seemed to think that they wouldn’t be recognized, but he never understood that notion. A person with a mask on was the same person without it. Nothing changed.

Would it always be this way? The monotony of society eating at him at every social function? The smell of too many bodies, their sweet perfume and pungent cologne clogging the air? It all seemed so unbearable now. There was nothing left of the excitement he had felt as a young buck, ready to branch out into society. There was only ennui, exasperation.

Perhaps, if he had married Lady Sera…

He shook the thought right out of his head. It wouldn’t do to dwell upon the failed relationship with the new Countess of Surrant. The false scandal that had ruined her reputation, causing Quinton Devericks, the Earl of Surrant, to propose, was nothing he wanted to think about.

It was time to move on. Fortunately, he had never been in love with Lady Sera. Her beauty and wit had held his attention, and the friendship they had formed had moved him to propose. But there was never any love between them.

Now he needed to find a new duchess. Preferably one that didn’t drive him mad, he thought as another young debutant giggled by him.

If there was one thing that his father had drilled into him since a young age, it was the need to marry and beget heirs quickly. He had put it off as long as possible, but his father’s last request, that his only son marry while still young, weighed on him heavily.

While the prospect didn’t bring him any happiness, it was his duty. And Bradford believed strongly in fulfilling his duty.

He was a duke, and the power that came with his station demanded great responsibility. He could no sooner turn from those who depended on him than cut off his own arm. It was his duty to his family, servants, and the title that demanded that he marry and secure the land and their livelihood for future generations, but it wasn’t something he relished the thought of.

He wanted his marriage ceremony over with, wanted an heir even more so that he had no need to worry about it any longer. He wanted peace and quiet. He wanted the endless balls and meaningless conversations to stop. The quiet solitude of his country manor called to him in a way he was sure other aristocrats in London wouldn’t understand. But he was a long way from his serene estate.

Sighing heavily, he looked up at the painted ceiling. Roman décor was all the rage now, and clearly Lady Templeton had taken to the style with open arms. The large columns and busts of men from those ancient times lined the room in small alcoves. Soft wisps of fabric, gently blowing in the light breeze from the windows, had been hung from the ceiling, carefully shielding stone benches along the wall.

It might have all seemed so strange if half of the guests weren’t dressed in the roman fashion, the women in white togas, fabric gracefully draped over one shoulder. It was all the other costumes that felt strange in the room. The worst he had seen, by far, was the man dressed as a chicken. His feathers looked as if they had been rolled around in a chicken coop one time too many, and the smell didn’t help either.

A few gentlemen, including himself, had chosen to wear formal attire from a century earlier. The ruffles on his shirt, both his chest and arms, were somewhat annoying, but his valet had insisted upon it. He was grateful now, however. His valet could have chosen the chicken costume. He shuddered at the thought.

The room quieted around him. Had the disgust he felt been so apparent? Looking around, however, he realized he wasn’t the person who drew everyone’s eyes.

Glancing up at the top of the staircase, he briefly scanned the three ladies entering, quickly dismissing them before jerking his gaze back to the last woman. With his eyes fastening to the luscious curves beneath the gold swirl cutouts, the breath whooshed out of his chest as he took her in.

No wonder the room had quieted. He wasn’t sure he had ever seen anyone more beautiful than the masked woman who had just entered.

Her curves were plentiful in all the right areas. Her dress molded to those deep curves, accentuating her small waist. Her lips were a lush rose, and he felt his body tighten at the thought of them on his own. Like a crown, her golden hair was artfully secured, only a light curl teased her neck. He couldn’t see her eyes from this distance, but he imagined that they were green, a green so lush and vibrant that the Emerald Isle itself would be put to shame.

She entered the room like a queen, uncaring that she caused such a disruption. Was she used to such a thing? Seeing a slight hesitation in her decent, his attraction flared even higher. She wasn’t so aloof that she didn’t notice the chaos she created.

With only a stair left, the room lurched forward, men climbing over one another to get to her side first. None of them mattered though.

He would have her for himself.

With a few strides, he placed himself in her line of sight. Almost as a magnet, her eyes locked onto his.

The electricity that passed between them had a life of its own. It drowned out everyone and everything. All that was left were the two of them in a bond that wouldn’t break.

He jerked as energy passed through him, felt it to the depth of his soul. Had he ever felt such a connection with someone before? Never, his mind seemed to scream.

Again, the room quieted, almost as if they had been singed by the energy flowing between the two of them. Glancing between the mysterious lady and the duke, the other guests backed away, acknowledging the duke’s rank and his obvious interest in the woman.

She watched him, waiting patiently for his next move. And he was never one to disappoint.

Slowly approaching her, his eyes never left hers. After an exaggerated bow, he offered her his hand in silent request.

He didn’t doubt that she would take it. Her eyes were drowning in his, just as lost as he was. There was no fighting what was happening between them, no way to stop where they were heading.

And he didn’t want to.

He thought he was prepared to dance with her, to take her, to claim her. But when her slender, white hand joined his, he realized he had sadly overestimated his control.

His body clenched at the contact, every nerve fraying in overload. It took every ounce of his control to keep from reaching out to her, pulling her flush against him and kissing her full mouth.

He had never felt this fierce of a desire, hadn’t known that it existed.

He had been with other women before, but none compared to her. And he knew that none ever would.

Silently, he led her to the floor, the rest of the room quiet as they watched the woman who could have come from another time, perhaps another world even.

With the first notes of a waltz, the rest of the floor filled with dancers, eager to hear any snippet of conversation that might pass between the beautiful woman and the duke.

In silent question, Bradford lifted his hand, again asking her permission to touch her waist.

With a slow smile that started with just a small upturn of her lips, she gave her consent. The small change to her face hit him full force, pulling him farther under.

Who was she? Was it possible they had met before?

No. He immediately discarded the thought. If he had met her before, there was no way he would have not pursued her. She was sublime, the paradigm of women.

Maybe she was visiting a relative in town, or perhaps this was her first season. However, after a few seconds of dancing with her, seeing how she adjusted to his frame, he could tell this wasn’t her first. She had danced with more men than just a dance instructor.

She also didn’t seem dazzled by the ball around her, at the opulence of it all. In fact, she seemed the opposite. The guests were what interested her. Glancing around at the people watching her, she seemed to take delight in the fact that they were giving her their attention, almost as if she weren’t used to being in the spotlight.

He wanted to laugh at the thought. She must attract attention wherever she went.

Abruptly, he realized he hadn’t spoken a word to her. Clearing his throat, he spoke in a rich, deep tone. “I fear I have just realized that I have neglected to introduce myself.”

His voice broke through Aubrey’s dreamy haze like a splash of cold water. She knew that voice, had heard it many times in the past year. The Duke of Wathersby.

But no, it couldn’t be, she thought, stiffening in his arms. She watched as his brows puzzled and almost cursed her lack of control.

“Have I said something to offend you?” he asked, his voice low with concern.

With a deep breath, she tried to stabilize the flutters in her stomach. How could she not have instantly known who he was? “On the contrary,” she said, her voice sounding a bit hoarse. “I was surprised is all. I had not recognized you in your costume, Your Grace.”

His features quickly arranged in shock. Did he really not know who she was?

Searching his face, she could see that he didn’t. Did she truly look so different? They had danced many dances together just like this, had conversed formally on so many occasions that she had lost count. Yet he didn’t recognize her.

He cleared his throat. “We have already met?”

She nodded once before looking down. She had thought him a stranger, someone who perhaps lived in the country and hadn’t met or heard of her. There had been a connection between them when they had first locked eyes. There was still one now. She could feel it wrapped around her like a tight band, slowly cinching until she couldn’t breathe. Why these feelings? Why now?

She looked up at him with a touch of hopelessness. Once he realized who she was, he wouldn’t want to have anything to do with her.

“Many times?” he asked, seeming to hedge away from her answer.

“Yes, my lord. Many, many times,” she said quietly.

He shook his head in denial as he pulled her closer. “I don’t believe it! Had we met before this night…” he trailed off, seeming to struggle with something.

Did he feel the pull between them as she did? Did he feel it closing in on him, harnessing them together? She looked up into his eyes, searching for her answers.

How could she not have felt this before? It felt so normal, so right.

She was a fool.

She shook her head and looked away, despair filling her. There was no future between the two of them.

Clearly reading her thoughts, he squeezed her hand, willing her eyes to connect with his. “Who are you?”

She inhaled quickly, stumbling over a step. He caught her, using the momentum to twirl her around the floor.

“I’d rather not say.”

“I must know.”

She shook her head. “Let’s just leave it how it is. Let’s just enjoy the dance until it ends.”

“And that is enough for you?” His voice took on a gruff edge that settled inside her.

His eyes searched hers, trying to pry out her secrets. Lowering her head she confessed softly, “No. But there is no other way.”

Seeming frustrated, he looked around the room before dancing them to the edge of the floor, discreetly slipping them out to a terrace that was a bit more private than the crowded ballroom.

The rain had stopped, leaving a clean, brisk scent on the stones.

Walking to the railing furthest from the door, the music that floated into the warm night seemed distant, hazier as if she were in a dream. She wasn’t in danger of being compromised here, but the thought of being alone with him caused a tingle in her spine.

Pulling her gaze from the doorway, she turned to look at him, surprised to find him staring out over the gardens.

Longing rushed through her so quickly she gasped. His form wasn’t bulky, but she could clearly see his muscles flexing beneath his clothes. Had she ever been so attracted to a man before?

As if sensing her thoughts, he turned to face her, desire clearly shown through his eyes before he masked it. His smile threw her off.

“So I cannot convince you to tell me your name?”

She hesitated, feeling a trap being set around her, but couldn’t figure out what it was. “I would rather not, Your Grace.”

“Call me, Bradford.” Opening her mouth, she wanted to tell him that it would be best if she didn’t, but he cut her off. “I have no desire to have such formality between us.”

She swung around in frustration. Could he not see how difficult this was for her? “I should go back inside.”

“Why do you wish to leave?”

Pivoting, she turned halfway toward him with a ready excuse, but seeing him, she couldn’t lie. “Nothing can come between us, Your Grace.”

“Bradford.” He took her hand gently. “And why not? Are you married? Betrothed?” he asked, the concern in his voice evident.

She shook her head sadly. “No, Your Grace. Bradford,” she said, correcting herself. She couldn’t deny him such a small request.

“Then what is it? What reason could there be?” He looked at her, clearly trying to draw out her secrets. “You feel what is between us.”

She nodded. “Yes. But nothing can come of it.”

He took her shoulders, and she wasn’t sure if he was going to shake her. Lifting her eyes to his, she read his frustration and her heart began to crack. The fates were so cruel.

“We have known each other for several seasons, danced more dances than I can count, have had several conversations. What you feel for me now, it’s just an illusion. If I told you who I was, it would all be gone.” Saying the words hurt, but it would hurt even more if she told him who she was and he turned away from her. This was the only way.

“It doesn’t matter who you are. How I feel about you won’t change because of your name.”

Her heart leaped at his words, but she couldn’t trust in them. He was the Duke of Wathersby, the most sought after man in the ton. He had courted her best friend, the incomparable of the season. She had no such beauty. Like so many other girls, she had a generous dowry, but there was little else she had to offer him.

“You don’t believe me,” he said, astonishment clear in his voice.

She hesitated, finding her words. She couldn’t look at him. “It isn’t that I doubt your words. It is only that your feelings could change after you know my name. What if I have a scandalous background?”

“I wouldn’t care,” he interrupted her quickly, his voice firm.

She laughed softly, however it was one more of sadness than gaiety. “You say that now. And no, I don’t have a scandalous background. It was just an example.”

“What can I do to prove to you that I am in earnest? I mean what I say. It doesn’t matter who you are. You are meant to be with me.”

She felt his words to the very depths of her soul. She had dreamed of those words being said to her, dreamed about this very moment. But he wasn’t saying them to her, Aubrey Langston. He was saying them to the masquerade lady. To a figment of his imagination. To a woman who was nothing but an illusion.

She shook her head.

“How can you deny it?” He gripped her upper arms. “How can you say that you aren’t meant to be with me?”

“Because you don’t know me! You desire an illusion. A person who is not real.”

“No. I desire you.” He pulled her flush against his body. “And I can’t fight it another second.” He swooped down to cover her lips with his. A surprised gasp escaped from her.

He relished the taste of her, taking the kiss from innocent to dark as his tongue swept inside to conquer. He had never tasted anything so exquisite, anything so potent as this woman’s lips. Fire shot through his senses, demanding that he take more and more of her.

All his frustrations poured into the kiss, branding her as his. He could feel every curve of her body against the hard lines of his. They fit, more perfectly than he could have imagined. She seemed to be made for him.

He kissed her thoroughly, leaving little doubt that he would ever leave her alone. He was claiming her in the deepest way he knew how. He was claiming her soul.

He broke the kiss, looking into her glassy eyes. It didn’t matter who she was or where she went. She was his now. Now and forever.

He had never believed in love at first sight. He thought it was ridiculous that someone could fall in love when they knew nothing of the person. But he did now. It was more than lust, much more. But that was there as well. He seemed to know her on a deeper level. His soul recognized hers.

He didn’t need to know what her favorite book was or how she liked her tea. They meant nothing. All that mattered was that he had found her. That they were two pieces of a whole.

Tears slowly slipped down her cheeks, and he gently brushed them away with his thumbs, looking into her eyes, looking into her soul. She felt what he did. They were meant to be together.

“Trust me.”

She leaned toward him, almost as if her body were willing her mind to give that trust. He watched her search his face and knew that he had won. She was his.

With a deep breath, she was about to reveal who she was, but was cut off as he jerked her softly into the shadows.

Someone was coming.

Looking around, she realized they had moved from the very public area of the terrace to the more private section. Locked in a lover’s embrace, she realized a scandal would be created if they were caught.

Panic overwhelmed her. If they were found, he would be forced to marry her. She couldn’t bear the thought of it.

“I’m sorry,” she said, leaving his embrace and quickly descending the stairs into the garden before they were discovered.

“I was wondering where you were hiding, Your Grace,” a woman said, her voice husky.

Leaning against the garden wall, Aubrey listened to Bradford’s quiet conversation with the woman.

“I haven’t been doing anything of the sort, Lady Victoria. I found I needed a breath of fresh air and a moment of quiet.”

Victoria, Aubrey thought in distain. The woman had no sense of honor. She had been the one that started the rumor about Sera. All because Victoria had wanted the Duke.

“Really? I thought I heard voices,” she said.

Aubrey listened to Bradford’s laugh, and could tell it was forced. “The wind, I’m sure. Come, let us return to the ballroom. I believe the next is a waltz. Would you do me the honor?”

Aubrey clenched her fists. She could just imagine Victoria preening at the attention. Hearing their footsteps returning to the ballroom, Aubrey slumped, suddenly drained.

She didn’t have a desire to stay and dance with any other men. No one could compare with Bradford and she didn’t think she could paste a smile on her face for the rest of the night.

She had almost told him who she was. If Lady Victoria had not come upon them, she would have confessed all, only to have him turn away from her.

She didn’t think she could bear that. The thought of him rejecting her once he knew her identity filled her with fear.

Pushing away from the wall, she walked through the garden, heading toward another door that led to the ballroom. She would find her mother and plead a headache. She couldn’t stay another moment. Not when Bradford would find her again. And she knew he would. She didn’t think she would be able to get away from him anonymously the next time.

She shivered at the thought. She had come so close to telling him. She could only be grateful that he would never find out who she really was.

With a deep breath, Aubrey breezed into a lightly populated alcove off the ballroom. Few acknowledged her entering as they huddled in small clusters, no doubt gossiping about what had transpired that evening.

Stepping into the heated ballroom, she lowered her eyes, edging along the walls in hopes that no one would notice her. It didn’t happen as she had hoped, but the few men that stopped her along the way were easily dispatched. They couldn’t compare to him.

“Mother,” Aubrey whispered into her mother’s ear. “I fear that I am unwell. I need to return home.”

Surprised, Lady Langston turned in concern. “Unwell?” she asked as she took in Aubrey’s pale cheeks. “Yes, my dear. I shall have your father fetch the coach and escort you home at once.”

Relief flooded through her. There had been a small doubt that her mother would try to force her to stay. She should have known better. “Thank you.”

Her mother led her toward the wall, seating her in a sheltered enclosure. “Wait here a moment. I’ll return shortly to fetch you once the carriage is ready.”

Aubrey could only nod once before she sat behind the willowy curtains. She was obscured from most everyone’s sight, which she was grateful for. The smile she had tried to force to her face refused to stick a moment longer.

While she didn’t want to go out into the crowd again, she couldn’t stop herself from parting the material slightly, searching for the one man who had made her want something more than she ever had. She saw him leading Lady Victoria to the floor, glancing around the room briefly.

Gasping, she closed the material. Was he looking for her?

Fingers raised to her lips, Aubrey brushed the sensitive skin that he had kissed. She could still feel him there, still taste him.

Unable to stop herself, she peered out again, watching his sturdy frame confidently lead his partner around the floor. She knew from experience that he was a skilled dancer and a pleasure to partner with. But nothing had compared to the waltz they had shared tonight.

Would it ever be that way again? She shook her head at the thought. It wouldn’t do her any good to dwell upon it. Tonight was only meant for her dreams. It wasn’t reality.

“The carriage is ready, my dear. Your father will meet you there.”

Aubrey nodded at her mother’s words, slipping from her hiding spot.

“Would you like me to walk with you?”

“No, thank you. I can find my way easily.” She leaned in and briefly kissed her mother’s cheek. “Thank you.”

Pleased, her mother smiled. “Just rest and feel better soon.”

“I will.”

With a final nod, Aubrey made her way to the opposite end of the ballroom, taking care to not attract attention. Was Bradford still looking for her? She hoped not. It would be difficult to ascend the staircase unnoticed if he were.

Gripping the rail, she forced herself to climb. Halfway up, her skin began to tingle, the hairs on the back of her neck standing on end. Pausing, she slowly closed her eyes. She didn’t need to turn to see him watching her. She could feel it.

Unable to stop herself, she turned, looking over her shoulder into the crowd of dancers, and immediately locked eyes with his.

While still moving flawlessly across the floor with Lady Victoria, his eyes devoured her. She could see in his expression that he knew she was leaving, that he was angry.

She lowered her head slightly in apology. There was no other choice. She had to leave before he found out who she was. It would only hurt her more if she stayed.

Glancing up to see if he had understood her silent plea, she was astonished to see the promise written on his face.

He would find her. There was no doubt. He would hunt her down until he found out who she was.

She could feel his promise surge through her body, and it frightened her. As if sensing her understanding, he nodded, sealing his vow.

Unable to watch him any longer, she hurried up the rest of the staircase, only feeling his eyes off her once she turned the corner out of view.

Shaking off her unease, she headed out of the building and into the carriage where her father waited to take her home.

It wasn’t a moment too soon.

***

The vow that Bradford had given to the woman from across the room did nothing to quell the emotions that surged through him. She was leaving without telling him who she was. How could she? He would have to search for her now. The thought infuriated him, but he managed to keep his hand light as he twirled Lady Victoria around the floor.

While beautiful, he had learned months ago what a sly, manipulative creature Lady Victoria was. For the sake of Lady Sera’s reputation, he had kept the knowledge to himself that Lady Victoria had started the vicious rumor that had ruined his prospective bride’s reputation. But because he was forced to be civil in order to protect Lady Sera, didn’t mean he could stand the sight of her.

His attention turned back to the empty staircase. She had left with no clue about herself, no hint where he could find her. The urge to curse rose, and he fought it with all his will.

Moving through the motions, Bradford took no enjoyment in the dance. He had one goal, and that was to see it end. When the music came to a stop, he escorted Lady Victoria back to her friends without a word. Turning from her, he marched up the staircase that the masked lady had used to escape him. With any luck, he might catch her in her carriage. But for some reason, he knew that he wouldn’t be that lucky.

Feeling the brisk air rush by his cheeks, he hurried to exit the building, only to be greeted by a deserted drive.

The feeling of loss that rushed through him stole his breath. She was gone. The one woman who had made him feel differently, made him feel alive, was gone.

Had no one seen her leave? Where were the servants?

Turning in a circle, there was no one in sight. How could there be no servants out here with a house full of guests?

Seeing a servant in his formal livery making his way from the service entrance, Bradford held back the urge to grab him by the neck. But just barely. “You there!” he bellowed, startling the man.

The servant hesitated, clearly sensing his dark mood. “Is there something you require, my lord?”

“A young woman left only a moment ago. I assume by carriage. Do you know who she was?”

“A young woman?” The man looked truly confused. “I have seen no young lady leave the ball yet.”

“That isn’t possible. I saw her leave only minutes ago.” He almost growled his frustration.

A telltale blush crested the servant’s cheeks. Bradford wanted to curse, knowing the man had been away for those few precious moments.

“I stepped away for only a moment to see to my needs, my lord. She must have left in the time that I was gone.”

Closing his eyes, he fought back the yell that clambered up his throat. No one had seen her.

CHAPTER 3

It wasn’t until Aubrey was safely tucked into her home that she was able to breathe easily. In the privacy of her room, Aubrey fell backwards onto her bed, spent from the evening’s events.

Shivering, she remembered the look of promise Bradford had given her. He would find her.

A guilty flush spread through her body. Upset was too mild a word for how he had looked.

No matter how guilty she might feel about leaving without saying goodbye, which she refused to think of as running away, she had needed to do it.

There had been no other choice.

Following the lines of the cerulean fabric of her canopy, her eyes traced around the circlet at the center that bound the different strips of fabric together into a design.

It was better this way. She had had one perfect night, and she wouldn’t trade it for anything. For the first time, people had noticed her. She hadn’t been in the shadows, completely forgotten by every man in the room. No, she had had their undivided attention.

It had been a magical night, but she knew the difference wasn’t only how others had perceived her. She had felt different as well.

It was as if the dress were magic, which she knew was ridiculous. But just the thought of a touch of magic in the garment had unlocked something within her. She had felt free. Free to be anything or anyone she wanted.

It had felt... liberating.

For one night she hadn’t worried about what people thought. She had just felt and experienced life.

Touching her lips, feeling Bradford’s kiss again, she relished the sensations that flooded through her body. She hadn’t known it was possible to feel that way. Everything had settled in her stomach, aching and yearning to get closer to him. She had felt alive, breathless, and utterly beautiful. The combination had been too powerful to resist.

Although she was innocent, she had known, on some primal level, that he desired her. She wasn’t ashamed to admit that she desired him as well.

Frustrated, she pushed herself up from the bed and moved to ring for her maid.

He hadn’t even recognized her. Why couldn’t they have shared that connection at any other party? He would have known her identity and wouldn’t have been held under an illusion that she was some sort of masquerade goddess.

He was truly stunned when she had told him that they had danced so many times together that she couldn’t even count the number.

What would he have said if she had told him who she was? He would be shocked, most likely scandalized. Here was the best friend of the woman he had wanted to marry. The woman in the mask, the woman he had kissed, was the same lady he had faithfully danced with to make his almost fiancée feel more comfortable.

But what if he had been telling her the truth? What if he didn’t care who she was? Was it possible that their past wouldn’t matter to him?

Her heart lurched with hope at the possibility. There had been something between them, something undeniable. Would those feelings be enough to suppress the scandal that would occur if he were to propose to her too quickly?

She inhaled sharply, frustration marring her brow.

When had she become so uncertain, so timid? It wasn’t like her to run away from something like this, and she didn’t like that she had. Why was she so afraid to take a chance on this? The duke was an honorable man, someone she had always admired. If he said that knowing her identity wouldn’t change his feelings for her, then she had to believe him.

The band around her heart began to loosen. There was a chance for happiness with him. If what she had felt between them was just a taste of what they could share together, she would take the chance.

Tomorrow. Tomorrow at the musicale she would hint at who she was. Surely after the kiss they shared he would recognize her. Wouldn’t he?

The next morning went by quickly, at least it did for Aubrey. Her mother and sister seemed as if nothing of importance had happened beyond whom Charlotte had danced with.

Her world had been turned upside down, but it continued on like normal for everyone else.

“Are you sure you are well enough for tonight’s musicale, Aubrey? You looked quite unwell last evening.” Her mother looked her over slowly for any signs of sickness. However, in the new cream gown that had been delivered that morning, Aubrey knew she looked the epitome of health.

“I shall be fine, mother.”

The peacock feather attached to her mother’s hair wobbled as she nodded. “Very well, but I expect you to take it easy so that you do not relapse.”

Seeing that her mother expected her agreement, she smiled reassuringly. “I will make every effort.”

“Excellent.” Her mother looked to Charlotte to make sure she looked presentable. “Well, let us be off then. I suspect that we will be in the second half of the arrivals. Plenty of people to see us enter.”

After taking her seat in the carriage, Aubrey looked out the window. She didn’t want her mother to think she was feeling unwell, but she was excited about tonight.

Closing her eyes on a deep breath, she let her entire body relax. The tingles she had felt the previous evening were there again, but lighter. It was like they had never left, they were only different. Was that because she was no longer disguised? She would be Lady Aubrey again this evening, the wallflower that tended not to dance very often, the woman that attracted the attention of friendly matrons at parties rather than dashing suitors.

Would he recognize her? The thought seemed to torment her.

What would he say to her? Would he hold her hand? Seek a moment of privacy with her?

There was no way to know how he would react. The only thing she did know was that she couldn’t wait to see the look in his eyes when he saw her. That look of desire, of hunger from the previous night, was more than she had ever dreamed of seeing, and she hoped to see it again.

Remembering it, an answering knot of passion curled low in her belly. She had only been kissed once in her life, and that kiss had occurred last night. Her friend, Lady Sera, had been kissed a few times before her husband, and had described most of them as a sloppy, unpleasant pursing of lips. But she couldn’t use any of those negative words to describe what she had experienced while kissing Bradford. It had been heavenly, magical. Every part of her body had warmed, wanting to curl into him for more.

A flush crested her cheeks. Would he kiss her tonight?

“We’re here. Everything in place?” her mother asked, startling Aubrey out of her wanton thoughts. Nodding her answer, Aubrey was grateful that the movement seemed to clear her mind.

Her mother led, knowing her two daughters would follow, up the front steps and into the house. Always efficient, the servants led them through the house with ease.

With so many bodies crammed into the music room, Aubrey was grateful the fabric of her gown was so thin. She had only to walk through the doorway before she felt completely stifled. Still with her family, Aubrey nodded her greetings to a few acquaintances before scanning the room for him.

Many people had begun taking their seats in preparation for the performance. It wasn’t often that the performer had true talent, but in this case, Lady Elinor had a fantastic talent for both singing and pianoforte.

With every person she scanned, her heart began to drop, realizing Bradford wasn’t there. Could he be running late or would he not show up this evening?

“Let’s take our seats,” her mother decided.

Opening her fan, Aubrey made of point of fanning her face as she sat, hoping to hide her disappointment. Tonight wasn’t going exactly as she had planned, but there was still time for his arrival.

A few moments after relaxing into her seat, the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end. He was here. He had to be.

The room quieted a bit as he entered, the women fluttered their fans a touch faster to attract his attention, the men eyed him to see how they might get closer to him.

None of that mattered to her. All that mattered was him. Her heart beating louder, she couldn’t help but watch him as he scanned the room, seeming to take everyone and everything in.

Her breath caught in her lungs. He was looking for her. The realization slammed through her as her pulse raced.

Would he recognize her as the woman from last night? He must. There had been such a pull between them. She was aware of him as she had never been with any other person.

Still watching, she saw a man approach him, apparently asking him to join their party but was put off with a polite decline. Instead, he stayed against the wall, eyeing the growing crowd.

His eyes began to wander toward her and her heart lurched. He would see her now. He would finally realize who she was. His eyes fell on her and she smiled, waving her greeting to him. She hoped he couldn’t tell how nervous she was.

The smile froze on her face.

After a quick nod in greeting, he continued to look through the rest of the crowd.

Like ice, the smile slowly melted, her heart crashed in her chest. He didn’t recognize her. Had barely given her a look in passing. How could he not know? How could he not feel the overwhelming pull to her as she felt to him?

Turning away, she made a point to give her attention to the stage. She had been so sure that he would know her, but she had been very wrong. She knew who he was, knew how to find him. He had no clue how to do the same. It was unlikely he would guess that the woman he was so attracted to the night before was a well-known wallflower. She certainly hadn’t behaved as one last night.

More people began to file into the rows of chairs, knowing the performance would soon start. With three extra seats beside hers, she knew she would have to converse with someone, but she did not look forward to the task.

When picking her seat, she had hoped that Bradford would come to her, would want to sit next to her and chat quietly throughout the performance.

What a fool she was.

Glancing up, she saw Lady Victoria and her brother, Viscount Lawrence, enter the room, her nemesis’ brother grinning in genuine pleasure to see the duke. She was too far away from them to hear what was said when they approached Bradford, but she could tell that he was happy to see them.

Forcing her gaze away, she focused all her attention on flicking a piece of lint off her dress, trying to conceal the disappointment she felt.

He was the Duke of Wathersby, and she wasn’t a diamond of the first water. She had been right not to tell him her identity. It would have only ended up hurting her more.

At least now she could keep her dignity. And her dreams.

But they were a cold comfort.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, the music will begin shortly. Please take your seats,” their hostess, the rather plump Lady Penfield, announced.

Loud applause followed the lady’s request, and the remaining people standing moved toward their seats.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw three people moving into her row to fill the empty chairs.

Her training would get her through this. It had to. She needed to be the perfect companion to whoever sat next to her. She couldn’t let her unhappiness interfere with her duty.

Fixing a bright smile onto her face, she looked to her new companion, gasping as she stared into smiling hazel eyes.

Bradford was sitting next to her, just as she had dreamed, but it was all wrong. She wanted to close her eyes and weep. He wasn’t sitting next to her because he wanted to be close to her, to whisper words of longing. He sat next to her because it had been convenient.

The word convenient felt like a dagger twisting into her heart. Was that all her life would be?

“Good evening, Your Grace,” she finally choked out.

“Good evening, Lady Aubrey.” He smiled in politeness but quickly scanned the crowd again.

Was he still looking for her? “Are you waiting for someone?”

His attention jerked back to her. “No, indeed. I was only wondering if one of my friends was in attendance this evening.”

“I have been here for some time. Who are you looking for? I might have seen him.”

His brow wrinkled slightly, clearly trying to think of a name. “Viscount Gloucher.”

“I don’t believe I have seen him this evening.” She scanned the crowd as well to make sure. In truth, she hadn’t noticed anyone’s arrival unless they had been directly involved with Bradford. “I hope there was nothing of importance you hoped to speak with him about.”

He shook his head, quickly dismissing her concern. “Not at all. I just haven’t seen him in some time.”

“I see.”

Hearing voices on the other side of him, Aubrey leaned forward slightly and was annoyed to find Lady Victoria and her brother sitting in the remaining chairs. At least Viscount Lawrence was sitting directly next to Bradford and not his sister. If she had, any conversation with the duke would be impossible.

Turning her attention back to Bradford, she determined not to give Lady Victoria any notice. “Are you fond of Lady Elinor? I heard she had a private concert for the Queen not long ago.”

“Yes. Although I must admit I’m not usually a connoisseur of opera. As a soprano, I’ve never heard better.”

“Nor I.”

“So you enjoy the opera or only Lady Elinor?” he asked with a smile. His full attention was on her and she felt her stomach twist into a knot. Before last night, he had never been this attentive.

“Lady Elinor is without equal. However, I do enjoy the opera on occasion. I can’t say I would wish to spend more than a night or two a month there, as my ears ring for days afterward.”

He laughed in pure amusement. It was a full-bodied laugh, one that seemed to start from his toes and echo through his body. It was hard to remember when he had ever laughed so freely. “I confess, my ears also ring after such performances. It is enough to make me want to hide my head under a pillow for days.”

A chuckle escaped from her lips before she even thought to stifle it. His body froze next to her, he quickly took in a breath. She paused, clearly realizing that she had misstepped. Was it possible that he remembered the sound of her laughter from last night?

His eyes jerked to hers, looking at her as if he had never seen her before. Did he know? Could he possibly suspect that she was the masked woman?

She swallowed heavily, bracing herself to act as if she didn’t know what was going through his mind. “Is something the matter, Your Grace?”

His eyes narrowed a bit, analyzing her before turning away. “Nothing. You just reminded me of someone. It was startling. I apologize if I’ve made you uncomfortable.”

“Not at all.” She paused. “I’ve often been told that I remind people of someone. Who did I remind you of, if I may ask?”

He shook his head as if it weren’t important. “Just someone I happened to meet at the masquerade last night. Were you in attendance?”

Tread lightly. “Yes. I was accompanied by my family. Rather lavish wasn’t it?”

He smiled ruefully. “The stare of fashion.”

“You thought it too much then?”

“I understand the need for decoration at such events, but why people think dressing up as someone else will make them anonymous is beyond me.”

Her eyebrow arched. “So you are confident that you knew everyone’s identity last evening? No one eluded you?” She couldn’t help but poke at him.

A hitch formed between his brows. “Yes. All except one.”

She laughed softly. She had expected him to deny it, and was pleasantly surprised that he admitted it. “That must have been frustrating.”

“Yes.” He looked at her and seemed to want to say something more, but Lady Elinor had taken the stage. Silence enclosed the room, signaling the beginning of the concert.

Aubrey took care to lean back into her chair, trying to look relaxed. Inside, she was anything but.

For a moment she had thought he had recognized her. It wasn’t possible to change her laughter. However, after that brief moment, he seemed to discount that she could be the woman from last night. Her heart fell in her chest. Perhaps he would never see her as that woman.

The masquerade woman didn’t exist. She would do well to remember that.

***

As Lady Elinor took her stance in front of the audience, Bradford focused his attention on her. The shock of hearing Lady Aubrey’s laugh, sounding so much like his mysterious lady, had almost brought him to his knees. But after looking at her, he knew that Aubrey would never be outgoing enough to be the masquerade woman. They were too different. Aubrey was reserved, shy, the complete opposite from the passionate woman he had held in his arms last night.

He wanted to curse the woman, whoever she was. Curse her for running away from him without telling him her name. He had never felt such a powerful connection with another person. A connection that promised that she was his other half. Nothing else mattered to him. Why couldn’t he have conveyed that to her? Why hadn’t he been able to stifle her doubts?

Lady Victoria. The viper that sat a few chairs away from him had been the main reason. Her timing in finding him the previous night had been detrimental. He could have sworn that the woman was about to reveal her identity, about to tell him who she was. But that interruption had cost him everything.

That was the second time Lady Victoria had come between himself and the person that he wanted. Although, for the scandal she had caused Lady Sera, he silently thanked her. If she hadn’t, he would have never met the woman from the previous night. But in regards to her interruption, he couldn’t be grateful.

“Excuse me,” Viscount Lawrence whispered before quietly exiting the room with a waiting servant.

Lady Victoria scooted into the vacant seat next to his and he wanted to cringe. “I’m sorry about that. My brother tends to get secret messages at all hours of the day that take him from his duties.” She blinked her lashes slowly.

He looked at her dispassionately. Outwardly, Lady Victoria was beautiful, but inside she was twisted and black. If she thought for even a moment that he would make an offer for her, she was out of her mind.

“Yes. I am quite aware that your brother is a busy man. With all of his business ventures, I don’t doubt that he is called away at inconvenient times.” He had tried to force his distaste for her out of his voice, but a bit still seeped in.

“Yes, well, it won’t deter us from enjoying the performance.” She sidled closer to him.

What nerve. Unconsciously, he moved away from her, bumping into Lady Aubrey.

“I beg your pardon,” he whispered into her ear before looking into her startled eyes. Beautiful eyes. Why had he never noticed before? Unable to help himself, he dared a glance down her body. Her lush breasts were teasingly covered by a scrap of lace that matched the trim of her bodice. The feminine frill moved over her curves, tapering down to her narrow waist. How had he missed that?

Her breath sped up at his perusal. “It is not a problem, Your Grace. It is quite crowded in here.”

He couldn’t stop staring at her ruby lips as she spoke. They called to him to taste her, to see if they were as tart as a red apple.

What was the matter with him? He tore his gaze from her and focused his attention on the melodic voice that vibrated through the room. He was here looking for the woman from last night, the woman he had given a vow to. But here he was, ogling a lady he had known for many years and had never had any interest in romantically. The mystery of last night must be driving him mad. It must be making him see things in Lady Aubrey that he would have never noticed before.

He sensed Lady Aubrey’s unease throughout the rest of the performance and wanted to curse when she quickly dismissed herself after the final applause. That same curse formed on his lips when his body tightened at the sight of her swaying hips.

He needed to push Lady Aubrey out of his mind and focus on what he had come here to do.

“My brother should be back momentarily. I hope it isn’t too much of an imposition to keep me company for a few more moments,” Lady Victoria said silkily.

It was the last thing he wanted to do, but manners dictated that he was stuck for a few more minutes. Precious minutes that he could have used to discover the masked woman.

“It would be my pleasure,” he finally said, though it was the complete opposite from what he felt.

“Thank you. I hope you enjoyed the performance. You seemed rather entranced by it.” It wasn’t difficult to catch the edge in her voice. Had she sensed his attraction to Lady Aubrey?

“Yes I did. Lady Elinor has a singular voice.”

“Indeed. I wish I had half the talent.”

He felt a gentlemanly comment form in his mind, the comment that was expected of him, but he just couldn’t give it. “Few do.”

He felt a corner of his mouth quirk at the annoyance she tried to keep from her face. Did she think she could manage him? He wanted to laugh. People had tried to manage him since birth, and no one had been able to. A petty woman looking for a husband wasn’t much of an opponent compared to the greedy, self-serving men he often avoided.

“Ah, I see your brother has returned.”

Viscount Lawrence rejoined them, taking Lady Victoria’s vacant seat. “I apologize for my absence. I assume Lady Elinor was as spectacular as ever?”

Bradford nodded, grateful to have him as a buffer. “Quite. She seems to get better every time she performs.” He paused for a moment. “I hope all is well. I assume that no one is ill since you aren’t in haste to leave.”

“A small problem is all. It should be righted by morning.” He grinned, downplaying the urgency in which he left the performance. “I am glad I was able to return before you left, I had hoped to issue an invitation to you in person. It has been some time since I’ve had a gathering at my estate, and I was hoping to get a small party away for two weeks. May I count on you as a guest?”

The thought of leaving for the country appealed to him, but he had to find the woman. What excuse should he give? His search for the lady was not something he wanted Lady Victoria to find out about. He could only imagine the sabotage she would employ to deter him from his goal.

“Would you not miss the ladies?” Viscount Lawrence was as good looking as his sister and was known to be much favored amongst the women in the ton. With his raven hair and crystal blue eyes paired with his charming persona, there weren’t many women willing to turn away from him.

Viscount Lawrence grinned knowingly. He had no doubts as to his reputation. “I had hoped to include as many ladies as I do gentlemen. I don’t intend for this to be a hunting party.”

Those words had him postponing his regrets. Should he accept? It was just as likely that the lady would be included in Viscount Lawrence’s invitation as not. If he chose to stay in town, he could lose the opportunity of the intimate surroundings the country would offer.

It was more likely that if she were included, that he would recognize her in the relaxed atmosphere than in the large, formal gatherings of the ton.

About to give his answer, he heared the rustling of skirts followed by the crisp scent of apples. Good Lord, she even smelled like them. All thoughts of finding the other woman left his mind as Lady Aubrey took her seat beside him.

“Lady Aubrey, how well you look this evening.” Viscount Lawrence offered her a grin that had most women drooling. Bradford had an overwhelming desire to glare at the man, but quickly suppressed the urge.

A tinge crested her cheeks, making her appear more ravishing than before. “Thank you, my lord. You are most kind.”

“I speak only the truth.” He threw her one last grin, and Bradford decided to ignore it since the Viscount didn’t show any interest other than flirting. “Now, back to the house party. I thought it might be nice to get away from the constant musicales and soirees, no matter how delightful. Can I count you in our numbers, Wathersby?”

With a nod, he accepted. It was too good of an opportunity to find the woman and get to know her in such a relaxed atmosphere to refuse. “It would be my pleasure.”

“Excellent.”

The gleam that entered Lady Victoria’s eyes was enough to make him shudder. He had no idea what plans she was concocting, but he knew none of them would be good. Her interference could make his search more difficult, but he had no doubt that he could handle Lady Victoria.

Viscount Lawrence’s grin returned to Lady Aubrey. “Your family has been invited as well, Lady Aubrey. I expect your invitation will arrive on the morrow.”

“I’m delighted. I must confer with my family but I believe you may count on our attendance.”

The joy in her voice had his muscles clenching. Why her acceptance shot relief through him he couldn’t say, but it worried him slightly. She was lovely, but he couldn’t be distracted by her. He had given a pledge to another woman just last night. He was true to his word. There wouldn’t be another for him besides her.

Why, then, was his desire for Lady Aubrey so raw, so elemental, his mind teased.

Unable to stop himself, he looked at her, soaking her up one last time.

Her eyes met his. He thought he saw a flicker of longing in her eyes to match his own, but it was quickly snuffed out.

“If you will excuse me, I have an appointment that I must leave for,” he heard himself say lamely.

“Of course. I’ll see you at my estate in a week.” Viscount Lawrence bowed his head.

Whatever had been constricting his breath seemed to loosen as he moved closer toward the door. At least it did before he glanced back and saw the stricken look on Lady Aubrey’s face. He didn’t know what had caused it, but it moved something within him. Turning back toward the doorway, he rubbed the sudden ache in his heart.

CHAPTER 4

As Viscount Lawrence predicted, the invitation to his house party arrived at the Langston residence the next day. With the prospect of a large group of unmarried men under the same roof as her two unmarried daughters, Aubrey’s mother was in a frenzy. This was apparently the opportunity that her mother had been waiting for to find perfect matches for her daughters. At no other time was it allowed to have such close contact with members outside their family. And the close bonds that could form between a man and a woman at such a party had her mother completely occupied with overseeing the packing of their belongings with enthusiasm.

In fact, Aubrey was glad for the peace and quiet she would receive in the country. Just the thought of what she had been through to prepare for the two weeks of husband hunting this invitation provided, had her bending over with fatigue.

The only positive aspect of it was that she had been unable to dwell on what had happened, or rather what had not happened, between herself and Bradford. However, with several hours of travel ahead of them, there was little else to do but think of the upcoming meeting she would have with the duke.

She had already accepted how naïve she had been to believe he would recognize her and confess his undying devotion. One night couldn’t erase all of the years she had known him, all the years he had felt nothing for her.

Maybe her sister’s optimism had rubbed off on her. Charlotte was just entering society and would undoubtedly receive an obscene amount of proposals. But Aubrey couldn’t afford to dream like that. She had been out for several years and had only ever received one proposal from a fortune hunter that had made it clear he was forced to extend such an offer.

She had promised to stay a spinster if marrying someone like him was the alternative. In fact, she had become somewhat resigned to such a fate.

At least she had until she had been kissed by Bradford.

She hadn’t felt the same since. It had been little over a week and she could still remember the feeling of his arms around her, the spicy scent of his skin, and the rich taste of his lips. It had been more than she had ever imagined she could feel in a man’s arms.

And she wanted to feel it again.

It was hopeless. If she hadn’t learned that during last week’s musicale, she needed to. At that moment the cloudy sky erupted, dumping buckets of water onto their moving vehicle. The horses slowed, finding the instant mud under their hooves difficult to maneuver through.

Her mother looked up from her needlepoint. “Oh dear, I fear this weather will make us quite late for dinner this evening.”

Charlotte smiled as if the weather was a boon. “If anything, it will make our entrance all the grander for being the last to arrive.”

“Quite right, my dear,” her mother said with growing enthusiasm. “All eyes shall be on the two of you.”

Charlotte bounced with excitement at the prospect, but Aubrey didn’t join her. All she wanted was peace and time to recuperate in the country. Bradford had unlocked a longing within her that she hadn’t known existed. She needed to find a way to close it off and resettle her mind back to a life of spinsterhood. It was too dangerous for her well being to believe, even for a moment, that there might be a chance at happiness with Bradford.

While her sister would be pursuing a marriage with one of the bachelors at the party, Aubrey had every intention of escaping into the serene outdoors as often as possible.

The rain finally stopped after a few hours, the clouds parting to show a glimpse of the setting sun. With any luck they would be late enough where they would need to take a dinner tray in their rooms.

They weren’t so lucky.

Eager to be out of the confines of the carriage, her family waited for the footman to open the door, but just barely. Fortunately, the rain had let up and they were able to walk into the Viscount’s estate without the aid of an umbrella.

“Good Evening, I am Laverston, the Viscount’s butler. Allow me to show you to your rooms.”

Laughter echoed from down the hallway where the other guests were assembling for conversation before they entered the dining room.

“What time will dinner be served?” her mother asked, clearly wanting to join the group.

“In forty-five minutes. If it pleases you, I will inform my lord that you will join them.”

Her mother looked over her two daughters, beginning at the top of their heads and ending at the hem of their skirts. “I believe we shall have enough time to change and freshen up. Please inform the Viscount we will join the party.”

“Right away, my lady.”

Charlotte and Aubrey were to share a room during their stay, which didn’t bother Aubrey in the slightest. If she were forced to endure another’s company, she could do far worse than her excited sister.

Her mother nodded in approval at the pastel colors that dominated the room. Aubrey knew that her mother favored lighter colors, garnished with a touch of lace. “We will be in the room across the hall from you. I’ll send Bitsy in as soon as she is finished unpacking a gown for myself,” she said before leaving quickly to attend to her own appearance.

“Are you unhappy to be here, Aubrey? You were very quiet throughout the journey.” Charlotte looked over her shoulder as she began to untie her laces.

Moving toward her, Aubrey swatted her sister’s arms out of the unnatural position. “Here, let me help you with that.”

“Thanks.”

“And it’s not that I am unhappy. In fact, it is nice to be back in the country air again. I was just lost in thought.”

“Is something the matter?”

It would be so easy to tell her sister everything that had happened between Bradford and herself. She would understand, empathize with her. But Aubrey couldn’t bring herself to confide in her sister.

What had happened between them on the terrace was like a dream. It was special, private. And she didn’t want to share it with anyone.

Besides, she couldn’t bear to see the look of pity on her sister’s face. There wasn’t anything that could happen between the two of them and Aubrey knew it. Her sister would too.

“Not at all. Just a bit tired. Mother has been ordering the household around like a general in battle all week. I’ll be grateful to take to my bed tonight.”

Charlotte chuckled at the analogy. “Mother has been truly fearsome. I hope to never be on an opposing side from her. I would be destroyed.”

While they poked fun at their mother, Bitsy entered and the whirlwind of silk and petticoats began.

With two minutes to spare, their family descended the staircase and was led to the rest of the group.

The conversation quieted as they entered the room, waiting for her family to be announced. The tingling feeling she had had before the masquerade returned. Odd.

Everyone knew who she was. The mask was off. But there was definitely something in the air. Something heavily charged and ready to strike at a moments notice.

“The Viscount and Viscountess Norcliff, Lady Aubrey, and Lady Charlotte,” a liveried servant announced in the doorway.

After a few nods of greeting, many people turned back to their conversations. While her parents spoke with an older gentleman, whose name escaped her at the moment, Aubrey glanced around the room to take stock of the other guests. And to look for him.

Most of the people there were whom she expected to see. A mix of eligible bachelors and heiresses were scattered amongst their families and chaperones. The occasional widow was thrown into the mixture, no doubt to create a little diversity among the guests.

Lady Victoria was in a corner, speaking softly with another gentleman. But that gentleman didn’t happen to be the duke. Where was he? Had he not arrived yet?

“Dinner is served,” another servant announced.

Forgoing tradition, couples filed into the room regardless of rank and found their assigned seats.

Arm and arm with her sister, she was pleased to see that they were seated in the middle of the table. In her opinion, the middle was always the best because conversation from either end of the table could be listened to. It didn’t matter how dull your dinner companions were next to you if you could join in with others.

After a servant assisted her into her chair, she was pleased to find an elderly gentleman next to her. While he may lack in conversation at points, elderly people didn’t care for the confinement of propriety and tended to say or do things that were outside of what was acceptable. Which made them all the more fun.

However, to the left of her, the chair was empty and she was left staring at Lady Victoria on the other side of the empty seat. Great.

Standing at the head of the table, Viscount Lawrence gestured for the men to take their seats. “I am grateful that everyone has arrived in safety this day, and I hope that the next two weeks will be both entertaining and relaxing.” He smiled cheerfully to the group in front of him and Aubrey was surprised to see a dimple flash in his cheek. “I must apologize to my sister and Lady Aubrey for the empty seat between them. The Duke of Wathersby was delayed by some business, but I have been informed that he will join us shortly.” As he tilted his head to look over the group, his damp black hair shimmered in the candlelight like shiny ink. “Enjoy your meal, and may this be the first of many fine evenings together.” He finally took his seat and raised his glass to drink to his toast. Many followed suit, tasting the tart white wine.

Glancing to the open seat again, her eyes met Lady Victoria’s before she pointedly turned away, clearly snubbing Aubrey.

Aubrey couldn’t care less. The woman was not someone she wanted to speak with or even pretend politeness with. It was best to let Lady Victoria take the brunt of criticism for her rudeness than for Aubrey to be moved to violence. On more than one occasion, Aubrey had felt compelled to slap her. Fortunately, she had always been able to reign in that impulse.

Soup was served with fanfare as the servants moved quickly, but also quietly, through the room. The spicy vegetable flavor was magnificent, and Aubrey couldn’t help but feel grateful for the fantastic chef she would obviously be enjoying over the next two weeks.

“The Duke of Wathersby,” a servant announced from the doorway.

Aubrey’s heart leaped into her throat. He was here. Glancing up at him, she felt her heart jumpstart, racing so fiercely she was worried others in the room would hear it.

Dressed in his evening wear, she couldn’t imagine a man more handsome than he. His fitted coat, closely tailored so that it emphasized the breadth of his shoulders, showcased the thickness of his arms. The pure white neckcloth was starched to straight points, drawing the eye up to his chiseled facial features. His jaw was pleasantly square, giving him the appearance of dependability. His light brown eyebrows, which matched the exact tone of his hair, crested over kind eyes. There wasn’t anything cunning or devious in the duke. He was everything a man ought to be.

And completely out of her reach.

Viscount Lawrence stood in greeting. “Wathersby, how fortunate. Come join us.” He held out is hand, offering the chair between Lady Victoria and Lady Aubrey.

“Thank you,” he said graciously, only hesitating for a moment when he caught sight of Lady Victoria.

Aubrey quickly smiled into her napkin. If Lady Victoria had seen his reaction to her, she was pretending that nothing was out of the ordinary. She wouldn’t care if the duke liked her or not, nothing would interfere with her plans to have him.

The conversation around the table resumed once he had taken his seat.

Taking a bracing sip, Aubrey tried to still her nerves. She had thought that the next time she saw him, she would have her feelings under control, but her body seemed to mock her. Her stomach kept turning over, flipping in knots. Would she always feel this way around him?

“Good evening, Your Grace,” she finally said smoothly. “I am glad you were able to join us.”

Did he look grateful that she had just taken him away from Lady Victoria’s grasp? She had the overwhelming urge to hide another smile behind her napkin but fought it. There was definitely relief and gratitude in his expression.

“As am I. How could I pass up such a wonderful meal and such interesting company?”

The comment brought a slight blush to her cheeks. She was still so unused to receiving compliments that she didn’t quite know how to accept them. “You’re too kind.”

His lips quirked. “I’ve embarrassed you. I apologize.”

“No.” She shook her head slightly. “Please don’t apologize. I fear I’m not used to receiving compliments.”

His look of astonishment confused her. “You can’t be serious. Surely you jest.”

Could he honestly not know that she was a wallflower? She had always just assumed that he asked her to dance after he had danced with Lady Sera because he felt sorry for her. Could he have not realized her situation because he had been so enraptured by Lady Sera?

Leaning forward slightly, Lady Victoria came into her view, clearly listening to their conversation. “Come now, Wathersby. You can’t be ignorant that Lady Aubrey rarely dances or that she is seldom the sole company of other men.”

Heat stained Aubrey’s cheeks again, but this time the color had nothing to do with being flustered by compliments and everything to do with shame. Lady Victoria’s comment had come out in a sugary voice, the tone sounding kind to anyone that overheard it, but her words were meant to demean, to belittle Aubrey in front of the duke.

Bradford’s face became shuttered, hard, as he looked at Lady Victoria. If Aubrey had ever wondered about his feelings toward Lady Victoria, she wouldn’t now. His distaste for her was easily read. At least for her, who had years of experience watching others. He was not pleased. In fact, he looked furious.

“All I know is that I have found Lady Aubrey to be anything but boring and am never disappointed in any circumstance where we have danced or conversed. She is very accomplished in both aspects, and I’d conclude that any man would be fortunate to have her as a partner.”

The table quieted around them at the duke’s defense of her. Several of the mens’ eyes wandered to her, discretely perusing her figure, reevaluating her after hearing the duke’s interest. And the light in their eyes caused her to blush.

Aubrey hadn’t had so much male attention in her life, excluding the maquerade, and it was a little unnerving. These bachelors were looking at her with admiration, with interest.

Seeing that their conversation was no longer private, and that the men’s attention had settled on Aubrey, Lady Victoria smiled coyly. No doubt trying to gain back their attention. “Lady Aubrey is indeed an excellent companion. I never meant to imply otherwise.”

The duke’s hand clenched at his side, only visible to her eyes. He was upset, furious with Lady Victoria. If she didn’t do something, he might say something he would regret.

Reaching forward with her right hand, she took a drink to distract others from seeing the other hand she placed on his arm. He stilled, but gave no indication she was resting her hand on his forearm. Placing his hand on top of hers, he gave a light squeeze as if in appreciation for stopping him from making a mistake before she slid her hand out from under his.

Under the tablecloth, she briskly rubbed the tingles out of her palm. She had meant to reach out to stop him, but instead she had been more affected than she ever thought possible. She had touched him countless times before and had never had this reaction. Why now? Had his interest in her as the masquerade woman, his kiss, unlocked something inside her that had lain dormant?

The rest of the meal was rather uneventful compared to the first half. Conversation mainly stayed to what activities they would be indulging in while in the country, at least until the women left to allow the men to enjoy their brandy and cigars.

Hot tea was waiting on the sideboard in the sitting room as the women filed in. Usually a rather feminine room, the Viscount’s sitting room was neither masculine nor feminine, allowing both genders to feel comfortable in the spacious room. The furniture was neither dainty nor overwhelming, as men’s furniture tended to be, but was a mixture of larger frames with fabric of soft cream. Whoever had decorated this room was a genius, managing to make it comfortable for both genders.

“I don’t know what you thought you were doing earlier, but the duke is mine. Consider this a warning.”

The words were said to her back, but Aubrey wasn’t ignorant of who said them. Turning slowly, she found Lady Victoria watching her, her gaze piercing into hers. The other women were already sitting with their tea across the room, oblivious to their conversation.

Aubrey normally strayed away from confrontation, but in this instance, she couldn’t. “I’m sorry, I hadn’t heard a betrothal announcement. In my mind, and every other debutant’s here, he is still single.”

Lady Victoria’s eyebrows slashed down, the icy glare evident in her features. “You fool,” she hissed. “If you continue conversing with the duke, I guarantee you will regret it.” A cruel laugh escaped her lips. “Others would only feel sorry for you, and the other men, whom you might still have a chance of making a match with, would only see you as rejected by a powerful man. No man wants a woman who was rejected by another. She is tainted, you see.” She examined her nails before looking back at her. “Your chances would be completely ruined.”

“I see. And no doubt further damaged by any rumors that would happen to circulate about me being compromised.” Her eyebrows rose with mock realization. “Oh, didn’t that just happen to someone recently? That’s right, Lady Sera.”

Hands fisting at her side, Lady Victoria’s relaxed appearance completely vanished. “Look here, Lady Aubrey. I will ruin you. Count on that. Regardless of whether you stay away from Wathersby or not, I will make sure your life is a living hell and that you are a pariah, completely shunned by all good society.”

A calmness Aubrey had never felt washed over her. Tilting her head to the side, she looked at Lady Victoria with fresh eyes. “You know, I kind of feel sorry for you. You are so consumed with catching the duke that you have no clue how others despise you, no clue that you have no true friends, and no idea that men, especially Wathersby, know what kind of viper you are.”

Lady Victoria sputtered, clearly unused to others delivering such a set down to her, but Lady Aubrey didn’t care. Breezing past her, she joined the other women in conversation, none of which had any clue about what had just transpired at the sideboard.

Why Aubrey felt as if a challenge had been issued, she had no idea. But a sense of freedom rose up inside her, a freedom that allowed her to shuck off the stigma that had surrounded her since her first season when she was a shy young girl. That girl was gone now but it had been easy to continue to remain on the sidelines of the parties. No more.

Aubrey was ready to live, and no one, especially Lady Victoria, was going to stop her.

Keeping up with the women’s conversation, she barely noticed when the men filed into the room. Lady Victoria immediately pounced on the duke, claiming his attention, keeping him trapped by his gentlemanly manners.

Aubrey couldn’t help but watch him. She was drawn to him, but couldn’t explain it. He didn’t search her out though. He seemed distracted, seemed to be scanning the crowd for something. Or someone.

Was he still looking for her? For the masked woman? Even as she thought it, an awareness settled over her.

It doesn’t matter who you are, he had said. He would find her. His final gaze that night had promised that, and he hadn’t forgotten.

Secretly, she admitted that she wouldn’t forget either. Ever.

She was determined to change, to not be the shy wallflower that everyone knew her as, and tonight was as good as any.

Looking up from her seat, she focused her attention on Lord Acton, smiling invitingly, her lashes lowered coyly as she had seen other women do.

Surprisingly, it worked. Stopping in mid-conversation with another gentleman, he made his way over to her. “You summoned me, my lady?” he asked flirtatiously.

“Yes, Lord Acton, I seem to be devoid of conversation.” She tossed him a flirtatious smile he seemed to lap up.

“Well then, I shall have to do my best to amuse you,” he said as he took the seat next to her, beginning to relate a tale that would have even the most dour matron smiling.

While his attentions didn’t have the flash of fire that Bradford’s did, they were still enjoyable. Why had she shied away from this for so long?

Over the next half hour, several more men had been drawn into their conversation, clearly enchanted by her laughter and her new openness. The interest she saw in their eyes flattered her, the attention they lathered on her amused her.

For an instant she felt grateful for Lady Victoria’s confrontation. It was what she had needed to completely push her over the edge, to free her from the bonds that had kept her from reaching out to others. While she rusty, and no where near completely comfortable, it was a start.

Looking up at Lady Victoria, she was surprised to see her gone, and for Bradford to be standing against the window staring at her, the heat in his eyes evident.

Had he been watching her this whole time? She laughed on cue to one of the men’s jokes, but she hadn’t heard it over the thrumming of her heart. Did he recognize her as the masquerade woman now that she was more outgoing?

He turned his eyes away first, and when they returned to her they were devoid of the passion that had been in them earlier. She couldn’t look at him anymore.

He clearly desired her, but he was still fighting it. It must be hurting him. To be feeling an attraction for her so soon after he gave his word of honor to another. He didn’t know she was the masked woman, and he would feel like he was being disloyal.

She felt moved to approach him, to tell him who she was and to stop his guilt, but she couldn’t. She wouldn’t.

She didn’t want him to want her because she was some mystery woman that he had pledged himself to. If he pledged himself to her, she wanted him to know who she was, to know her and to still want her.

Then, and only then, would she tell him who she was.

CHAPTER 5

After two days of enduring the sight of Lady Victoria cornering the duke, Aubrey had had enough. With the occasional longing looks that Bradford had sent her before cutting them off and regaining his composure, Aubrey was ready to run back to London.

“Bitsy, please go to the stables and have a horse readied immediately. I wish to ride.”

“Shall I request a groom to accompany you?”

“Yes.”

After yanking off her gloves, she fished out a dark blue riding habit.

“Would you like some help dressing? I’m sure it will take Bitsy a while to get to the stables.” Charlotte tossed the book she was reading on her bed and reached for the dress to unfasten the few buttons at the back of the neck that held the material together.

“Thanks.”

“Feeling stifled?”

Aubrey nodded stiffly. What else was there to say? Besides the masquerade, there wasn’t anything else to tell. True, the duke had been looking at her with passion in his eyes, but it wasn’t anything more than what her sister received on a daily basis.

Charlotte helped pull Aubrey’s dress over her head before settling the shining blue material in its place. “I don’t blame you. I think everyone is a bit disgusted with Lady Victoria’s advances. Not only is she corning the duke every chance she gets, but she also seems determined to keep all the other men on her string.” She made a sound of pure disgust. “How she happens to have a brother as decent as Viscount Lawrence, I’ll forever have to wonder.”

Her sister began to fasten the impossibly long row of buttons down her back. “Lord Lawrence? I had not known you were very well acquainted with him.”

“Oh, I’m not.” In the mirror, Aubrey caught sight of a blush on her sister’s cheeks. “I’m just basing my opinion on the few moments when we were introduced and from what I have seen of his character thus far.”

It was strange that her sister was a bit flustered, but Aubrey didn’t press it. “Yes, now that you mention it, I am quite surprised too. I guess with his many businesses the ton hasn’t had very much opportunity to get to know him. In any case, he doesn’t seem the type to haunt the London ballrooms.”

“True,” her sister said, seeming distracted. “There. All finished.”

Aubrey shifted in her dress, trying to settle it in a comfortable position. “Excellent. I feel as if I will explode if I’m forced to stay indoors for too much longer.”

Charlotte grinned. “Will you be home for luncheon? I’m sure mother will want to know.”

Fastening her matching gloves, Aubrey nodded. “I expect so.” Aubrey gave her sister one last smile before heading toward the door.

“Have fun,” her sister called out to her as she left.

It didn’t take her too long to get to the back of the house, close to the stables. It was mainly quiet throughout the manor at this time in the morning, as the guests opted to spend the early hours relaxing in their rooms after staying up so late.

The servants were up though. It seemed as if their lives never slowed, their work never ceased. Aubrey was always grateful she had been born into wealth, knowing that the life of a servant was a difficult one, and she tried to never take her servants for granted. She knew that her life was an easy one because of their hard work, and she was grateful to them.

The sun was shining brightly as she walked outside. The warmth of the sun’s rays instantly gave heat to her skin. The world always looked so fresh and clean in the country, a stark contrast to the dirty and constantly smoggy city of London.

While London was captivating with its glittering parties and smooth sparkling stone, it had nothing to compare to the beauty of the lush rolling green hills and the crystalline sky of the country.

Turning the corner, Aubrey sighed in delight at the snowy white mare that was saddled, knowing that was her mount.

“What a beauty you are,” she whispered to the animal as she petted his nose. The gorgeous creature seemed to agree and nuzzled deeper into her hand. A soft laugh escaped her lips.

“She’s breathtaking.”

The deep, masculine voice startled her out of her focus on the animal. Her gaze jerked up, locking onto the gold flecks in the duke’s eyes. She wanted to sigh and lay her forehead against the horse’s, but didn’t. In habit, she curved her lips slightly, trying to appear at ease. “Yes, she is. I was just telling her that very same thing.”

A stable hand exited the stable at that moment, leading a glossy black stallion that seemed to be chomping at the bit. “I am sorry my lady, I wasn’t able to ready another horse yet for a groomsman. Give me a moment and I will see to it,” he said, handing the reigns of the horse to the duke.

“That won’t be necessary. I shall accompany her this morning,” he told the stable hand before turning toward her. “If that is agreeable to you, of course.”

The warring emotions made her feel sick. She wanted to be alone, wanted to be able to get away from everything and calm her emotions a bit. But the opportunity to be alone with him, to get to know him without being interrupted by Lady Victoria or anyone else, was too good to pass up.

“Of course.”

“Allow me.” He moved to help her onto her mount and she closed her eyes as his scent slammed into her. The smell of sandalwood and his soap was so powerful she thought she would fall into his arms then and there. All the sensations she had felt the night of the masquerade came rushing back to her, the feeling of her heart beating so heavily she thought it would fall out of her chest, the feel of his lips on hers, his hair in her hands.

The feelings assaulted her, and the desire that ripped through her again must have shown through her eyes, because his were suddenly darker, more dangerous.

He had to feel the same pull between them.

Hands at her waist, she wasn’t sure if he was going to lift her onto the horse or into his arms. Recklessly, she wanted to be against him. To feel his hard muscles against her curves one last time.

With a sound of frustration that seemed to rip from his soul, he lifted her easily onto the back of her mount.

“I’ll follow your lead.” His voice sounded a bit husky.

With a nod, she led her horse off quickly. She needed a moment alone, a moment to gather her composure.

She cursed. One touch from him and she had melted, ready to give him all. And she couldn’t. She wouldn’t. It was ridiculous that she was competing with herself. But she wanted to win. She wanted to win as Lady Aubrey, not as the irresistible, desirable, masquerade woman.

If all she could have was this short time alone with him, she would take it. Take it and relish it. He was hers, if only for a morning.

After fifteen minutes at a gallop, she reigned in her horse. Her breath calm, a serene smile on her face, she turned to allow him to pull up beside her.

“I was wondering if you planned to leave me in the dust the entire morning,” he smiled ruefully.

She couldn’t help but chuckle. “It did cross my mind. I apologize, but I am unused to company on my rides. I find that my mind wanders, and I am not much for conversation.”

“It is not a problem. I am mostly the same way. My mind fixes to problems that I haven’t been able to solve. I’ve always found it astonishing that flying at neck breaking speeds gives me a clarity of thought that I can’t find anywhere else.”

“Yes, exactly.” She gave him a true smile of pleasure. It wasn’t often that someone had that same experience while riding. Speaking with others throughout the years, she had found that she was singular in that aspect. “I have not met another who shares that trait.”

He leaned forward in his mount, relaxed, looking over the landscape before returning to her. “Now you have. Care to race to the second hill?” He nodded off in the direction to a hill a few miles away.

Eyeing the distance, she turned and gave him a bright smile. “Catch me if you can,” she said before quickly bringing her horse into a full gallop. The laugh bubbled out of her chest at the priceless expression on his face as she left him in the dust.

She raced ahead, enjoying the exhiliration that coursed through her. The world was a blur of colors as she flew over the ground on the horse’s back. Nothing compared to this. Nothing.

Except kissing the duke.

The countryside swirled in a collage of colors that made no sense, the crisp smell of wet grass and cold wind mingled with the sweeter smell of the wildflowers that grew sporadically across the hills. Their lazy violets, flirting pinks, and cheerful yellows combined with the sun made the landscape look like a dream, rosy and perfect.

Maybe that is what this is. A dream. Her racing over the countryside on the back of a horse in the most beautiful landscape she could imagine, with the man of her dreams riding behind her to catch her. That only happened in her dreams.

With a sudden whoosh of air, Bradford raced past her on his black horse like a demon suddenly released from hell.

That rosy haze left abruptly as she watched his back proceed further and further in front of her. He was going to win.

Surprised that he wouldn’t let a lady win, she grinned and urged her horse on faster. The animal needed little encouragement from her rider, seeing the competition race past.

Aubrey knew that there was no way her sweet mare, no matter how quick she might be, had any chance of overtaking the duke’s magnificent stallion, but that didn’t mean she had to give up and let him win. Oh no, she would make him work for the win and know that she wasn’t about to give up just because of his station. She would challenge him.

Nearing the tree at the bottom of the second hill, her sweet horse gave all that she had. In the end it wasn’t enough, but it didn’t matter that she hadn’t won. When the duke gave a hearty laugh, one that was full-hearted and carefree, she felt as if she had.

Jumping off of his horse, he reached out to her to help her dismount. “I think that was the most fun I’ve had in some time. Thank you.” He was only slightly out of breath from the race.

“It was my pleasure.” An answering smile curved her lips. “I had hoped to win, of course, but I can’t be disappointed with how much my horse gave.”

“No, indeed. I was quite surprised myself at how fast she ran. Not to mention your underhanded tactics in the take off.” His hands remained on around her waist a tad longer than was necessary, but she didn’t mind. In all honesty, she wished they had remained there longer. “In fact, I am quite scandalized.”

A laugh escaped her lips. “I’m afraid had you known me a bit better, my lord, you would not be quite as surprised.”

“Truly?”

She nodded with a smile. “I enjoy competition and take every opportunity to have the upper hand if possible.”

His brow rose as he looked at her appraisingly.

“Unfortunately, I am telling the truth,” she laughed, correctly reading his thoughts. “You may ask my sister, for she has had the brunt of my cunning at times.”

Laughing, he shook his head slightly. “I believe I might have to test this claim, perhaps later with a game of cards.”

She sighed dramatically. “Well, I tried to warn you, Your Grace. If I should win at cards, I will remind you that you were warned in advance.”

Another laugh escaped him. “Do you mind if we walk a bit? After that race I believe they deserve a rest.” He gestured to the horses.

“Not at all. I think my legs might enjoy the exercise as well. I haven’t ridden like that in some time. At least not since we’ve been in town.”

“Hyde Park doesn’t allow such racing,” he agreed.

“Certainly not. If we had raced like that, I don’t doubt that we would have killed someone.”

He took hold of his horse’s bridle and walked beside her. “We could have killed someone here. The competition was that fierce.”

She couldn’t help but laugh. “And it will be just as fierce if we ever race again. I warn you, Your Grace, I shall always try to win, no matter how much your horse might outclass mine.” She thought for a moment. “Perhaps I shall race a stallion next time.”

He stopped and looked at her in astonishment before chuckling. “For a moment I thought you were serious.”

“I was.” She laughed as he sputtered. Taking pity on his obvious distressed she soothed, “While I might enjoy the challenge, I rather enjoy my neck the way it is. I don’t think I will be riding a stallion any time in the future.”

“And I am grateful to hear it.”

She laughed again, reaching up to give her horse’s neck a brisk rub.

“Why have we never done this before?”

His question completely caught her off guard. Turning to look at him, she saw him watching her. “What do you mean?”

“Well, we have known each other for such a long time. I feel as if I should know you better.” He hesitated for a moment. “You’re much more than I realized.”

She laughed humorlessly.

He reached out to touch her arm, stopping her from walking any further. “Forgive me. That came out wrong.”

She shook her head. “No. I understand. You courted my friend for so long, and I’ve stayed on the edges of the ballroom. Not many men have taken the time to get to know me.” She wasn’t bitter about it; it was just a fact.

“Our mistakes.”

The look he gave her was full of sincerity and she wanted to melt.

“Well, I appreciate that, Your Grace.” She gave him a genuine smile, the bond that had begun to form between them showing plainly on her face.

“Call me Bradford.”

“I’m sorry?” His request surprised her. It was too much like their conversation on the terrace that night.

It was his turn to smile. “I said that you may call me Bradford. Honestly, I do not enjoy being called ‘Your Grace’ as much as others might think. Besides, I’d like to think of us as friends. Don’t you agree?”

“Yes. I’d like that.” Friends. It was more than she could have hoped for from him, and she would cherish any connection to him.

But it wasn’t enough. She wanted more.

She wanted his love and affection. Not because she was the masquerade woman, but because she was herself. Because she was his friend, and so much more.

She was in love with him. It was more than a connection, more than passion. It was overwhelming, all consuming.

The realization was enough to startle her into tearing her eyes away from his before he saw too much.

He wanted her friendship, not her love.

And she would give it, but it would never be enough.

***

“I have a favor to ask of you,” Victoria said, quietly shutting the door to her brother’s study.

Looking up from his desk, Derek Haveston, Viscount Lawrence, arched a brow at her. “And what would that be?”

Victoria smoothed her skirts, trying to appear serene although inside, she was strung as tight as a bow. Her plans to trick the Duke of Wathersby into proposing to her all rested upon her brother’s cooperation, but she knew her brother would never willingly be part of such a plot.

“I thought it might be entertaining to hold a masked ball here while the guests are in residence. We could easily invite the local gentry. Although it is short notice, I’m sure they would attend.”

As her brother stared at her, probing her for information, she held still and smiled. Most did not know that her brother was a master at figuring out people’s secrets just by watching their body language.

“This isn’t another attempt to get Wathersby, is it?” he asked dryly, clearly knowing the answer already.

“Of course not! Why would I ever do such a thing?” she tried to sound outraged that he would suggest such a thing, but deep down she wondered how much he knew.

The smile that played around his lips told her everything.

Her shoulders sagged. “All right. How much do you already know?”

“I know that you started the rumor about Lady Sera.”

She huffed. “That was hardly anything.”

“Hardly anything?” He rose from his desk slowly. “You ruined all her prospects of marriage.”

She picked at an invisible piece of lint on her sleeve. “She seems to have married just fine.”

“Only because she had to accept a fortune hunter. It is only pure coincidence that she has a happy marriage,” his voice was low. “It is hard to believe that my own sister would do something so self serving, but it is appalling that you would think nothing of it.”

Her back straightened. “I may not have such firm morals of right and wrong as you, but no matter what you might think, I never actually wished Lady Sera harm. I only wished for the duke to turn his attentions toward me.”

“And has he done so?”

“Not exactly, but I thought that this ball would help with that,” she finally admitted. “I am asking for this not to sabotage anyone else, just for a chance for him to get to know me without being tainted by my identity. Is that too much to ask?”

Her brother sighed heavily and sat in his chair. Excitement bubbled up her throat as she felt a victory. Her brother was about to give in. The twinge that she felt about deceiving both her brother and the duke was pushed to the back of her mind. There wasn’t any other way.

“Victoria,” he trailed off before continuing. “I feel I must tell you that you don’t need to marry him. I know what father wished, but marriage is a lifetime commitment that--”

“Stop.” She held up her hand, not wanting to hear any more “This has nothing to do with father.”

“Really?” Disbelief colored his voice. “I may have been away at school much of the time, but I knew what father wanted of you. And he wasn’t right, Victoria. Women are more than bartering tools, more than a means of cementing an alliance. Father may have wanted a duke as a son-in-law, but he is gone now. You have no need to follow that path.”

“It is my path now, Derek. It is what I want.”

Her brother searched her features for the truth before taking a deep breath. “You know that I wish for your happiness. If you would like the opportunity for anonymity I will not stand in your way. When were you thinking of holding it?”

“In three days time.”

“So soon? Can we ready things that quickly?”

She flicked her wrist. “Of course. It won’t be a lavish affair, but with only the guests and a few local gentry, there won’t be a need for much frill. I can easily arrange it.”

“If it’s what you want, go ahead,” he said before turning his attention back to his work.

Blocking out her brother’s concern, she made her way to the door. She couldn’t let her brother’s words affect her; she had a duke to catch. “Oh, and one last thing,” she said, turning back toward him. “Might I ask for everyone to wear wigs or powder their hair? It will be so much more fun that way.”

“Of course. Whatever you wish,” her brother said without looking up. If he had, he might have reconsidered his words. The wicked grin that lit her face was full of plotting.

“Thank you.” She turned again to leave the room, pleased that her plans for capturing the duke were underway.

He didn’t stand a chance. After all, Wathersby couldn’t possibly know that she knew about his masquerade woman. The few moments of conversation she had overheard on the terrace were enough to know that she could fool him into thinking that she was that woman. She would just have to remain anonymous and get his pledge before he realized who she was.

It could work. She would make it work.

She was born to be a duchess.

CHAPTER 6

Bradford paced the length of his room. His muscles flexed in anticipation, barely contained within his starched evening clothes. He was liked a caged lion, prowling the confines of his prison.

The black mask his valet had procured for him lay on a side table, its crisp ribbons trailing down the side.

Another masquerade.

Thoughts of the masked woman filtered through his mind. He could remember her so clearly, so accurately, there was no need for a portrait of her. Her glossy flaxen curls glimmered in the candlelight, her red lips ripe for his kiss. And her figure—he cursed as he felt his body responding to the image his mind created.

Would he see her tonight? Would the torment he had felt over the last several weeks finally be at an end?

Since the masquerade had been announced by Lady Victoria three days ago, he hadn’t been able to think of anything else.

If she was at Viscount Lawrence’s estate, and if she decided to attend, he would see her again. He had to believe that he would know her the moment he saw her in another costume.

Regardless of whether or not her hair was powdered.

The frustration that had coursed through him during that announcement returned. If she was there, he didn’t want powder in her hair, he wanted to see her as she was. He wanted to know her.

Glancing at the clock, he felt adrenaline rush through him. It was almost time to go.

With a deep breath he grabbed the mask before leaving. With every step he took outside of his room, the caged animal was locked further away as the duke in him returned. It would do him no good to look like a madman in front of all the others that he would dance and converse with.

Especially Lady Aubrey.

He stopped in his tracks halfway down the hall. Lady Aubrey.

Why had she popped into his head just then? He needed to be focused. Focused on finding the masquerade woman. He couldn’t be distracted by anything else at the moment.

But for some reason she wouldn’t leave his mind. His mind flooded with memories of the ride they shared together days ago. The way the sun shone on her skin, making it look almost translucent. How could he have been so blind to her beauty all the time he had known her? It was true that Lady Sera was all that was fashionable: thin, brilliantly blonde, beautiful. But Lady Aubrey was exactly the type of woman he would want to take to bed every night. Curvy, womanly, warm. In all honesty, it was astonishing that she wasn’t already married.

Imagining her with another man caused something violent to erupt within him, making him want to haul her off where only he would be able to be with her.

“Good Lord. What is wrong with me?” Slightly hunched, he leaned against the wall, trying to regain his balance.

He had had no clue that thoughts of Lady Aubrey were simmering in his mind, but he needed to purge them now. He had made a promise to another lady. Promised that he would only ever want her.

And he meant to keep that promise.

Straightening from the wall, he continued on his way to the ballroom with new purpose. The string instruments from the orchestra wept softly through the carpeted hall. The masquerade had already begun.

Laughter occasionally rolled up the steps, mingling with the music, making him think of another night, another masquerade.

The excitement he felt to find the woman dimmed after thoughts of Lady Aubrey. But with one last attempt, he pushed her out of his mind.

“His Grace, the Duke of Wathersby,” a servant announced him at the ballroom entrance.

All eyes turned to him as they usually did. He had found that when a duke was announced, especially a young, unmarried duke, most people turned to watch him.

He greeted the few men by the door and nodded to a few others before skirting to the other side of the floor.

The room was already warm from dancing, and the powder in the women’s hair left a light dusting whenever they turned, mingling with the scent of their perfume.

If possible, and he really hoped it was, he wanted to stay on the fringe of the room and observe as many dancing couples as possible. With any hope, he would spot her.

As another group entered the room, he found it humorous that only the men were announced. The women’s identities were left a mystery.

His lips quirked at the oddity. Perhaps it would help some of the debutants in their pursuit of marriage since they were unknown and their reputations would remain intact with their anonymity.

“Bradford.”

At the quiet, feminine voice, he glanced around, his heart beating erratically. It was her. It had to be.

“Bradford,” she called again. This time he found the source of her voice. Spying a large potted tree, he moved behind it to find a woman there, her eyes glimmering. It was too dark to tell, but her eyes must be green.

“Bradford, I’m so glad you’re here,” she said, moving her body into his.

With a sigh of relief, he wrapped his arms around her to bring her closer into the shadows, away from the crowd.

A crease between his eyebrows formed. She didn’t fit into him like he remembered. She was an inch taller, making their bodies feel like wrong pieces in a jigsaw puzzle.

“You knew I would come.” Just because he hadn’t remembered her perfectly didn’t mean he wasn’t glad to hold her again. And just because she didn’t fit him exactly right didn’t mean he didn’t still want her. “I’ll always come for you.”

Her eyes shone in the darkness, looking at him with longing. He wanted to melt into her, wanted to claim her. But something felt wrong. Glancing up, he saw the powder in her hair and he wanted to howl that he couldn’t see the beautiful gold in the night.

“I never want to part from you again,” she whispered in his ear.

Instead of the sound shooting pleasure down his spine, he felt uneasy. “Nor I,” he said, trying to block out his doubts. This was her. This was the masquerade woman. The woman he wanted.

But an image of Aubrey came into his mind.

She leaned back and smiled up at him. “Come, let us dance with the others.”

“First, tell me who you are.”

She tried to pull back a bit more, but his hands curled around her upper arms. “Does it matter? We are together now. We have the whole night ahead of us.”

“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.”

“No doubt.” His lips curved wryly. “They are in the country and bored after a few hours from sitting inside too long.”

She laughed softly. “Most are used to being in London where their lives are lived out indoors.”

“Exactly. However, I noticed that you do not share that opinion.”

“Not at all. In fact, I would live in the country at all times if possible.”

His brow arched in fascination. “How unfashionable of you.”

She shrugged in an unlady-like way and laughed. “To be honest, I find myself unfashionable most of the time. I never really jumped into the way of debutants, finding myself different in both looks and temperament from others. I have no desire to change.”

“And I’m grateful for it,” he said, not bothering to dissuade her. “I find that I enjoy the diversity you offer from other women. I’ve never once heard you giggle.” He gave a dramatic shudder.

Laughing with her whole body, she shook her head. “No, I have never been known for my giggling, to my mother’s relief. However, I believe she would wish me to prefer London as others do.”

“The country is far superior,” he agreed.

Surprise.

“You? But you’re a duke.” The moment she said the words she knew she sounded ridiculous.

“And? It is so much more peaceful in the country. I don’t have to stay up all hours, I may ride as freely and as often as I wish, and I am usually in the comforts of my own estate. What more could a man ask for?”

“True. I enjoy riding everyday. I hadn’t realized that I had picked up the habit until we arrived here. It will be something that I will miss once we return to London again. The sedate pace that is required in Hyde Park just doesn’t give me the same thrill.”

He nodded in agreement. “Care for a ride?”

The invitation cut off her lighthearted laughter. “Now? Together?”

“Yes. As you said yourself, there isn’t anything scheduled until this afternoon.” He lowered his voice to a whisper. “I enjoyed our ride the other morning.”

“I did too.”

“Shall we then?” She could see that he was eager to spend time with her, and that knowledge surprised her. She felt him willing her to accept.

“We will need a chaperone.”

Sighing, almost as if he were relieved that she had accepted his offer, he smiled as he stood. “I will arrange to have a servant accompany us.”

She stood as well, tilting her head back a little to meet his eyes. Memories from the night before surged through her. His eyes gazed into hers, not with recognition, but with fondness. He truly wanted to spend time with her.

Could it be possible? Could she have a chance with him as Lady Aubrey and not the masquerade woman? The possibility flittered in her stomach. “I will change into my riding habit and meet you in half an hour. Is that agreeable?”

“Yes. I’ll meet you by the stables.”

“All right,” she said and turned to leave, but she couldn’t help herself from glancing back at him as she left, flushing when she caught him staring at her waist and hips.

His eyes trailed back to hers filled with such heat that it singed her skin. She had never thought her curved body was attractive, but he couldn’t seem to stop staring at her with desire whether she was the masquerade woman or simply Lady Aubrey. Pleasure surged through her heart at the thought.

She couldn’t wait to spend more time with him.

CHAPTER 7

When he had approached Lady Aubrey, it hadn’t been his intention to ask her to join him for a ride. In fact, as he stood in the stable yard holding the reigns for their horses, he couldn’t believe he had.

The lack of strength and discipline that he had displayed since meeting the masquerade woman was astonishing.

He had spent an hour speaking with the guests in the room, weeding out women on his list of possibilities. His mind had been focused, completely in tune with his mysterious woman.

He had cataloged, weighed odds, gained more vivid memories of the encounters he had had with the woman, and then he had seen Lady Aubrey and all thoughts of the masked lady had flown out of his head.

Looking up at the sky, the bright rays of sun warming his face, he remembered the way she had looked in the corner chair.

Fresh, alluring, and observant. He couldn’t help but be drawn to her. He had just needed to be by her. Needed to speak with her. He couldn’t fathom the effect she had on him, but he knew he craved it. Both body and mind. He needed to be by her.

Disloyal idiot.

What was the matter with him? He wanted to pull his own hair out. The moment Lady Aubrey had left the room he had regretted the invitation. Nothing good could come of it. Nothing.

And the way she had looked walking away, all luscious curves and innocence, he had to fight back the urge to grab her.

He really wasn’t worth either woman’s attentions.

The ride would have to be a quick one. He couldn’t afford to spend much time in her company, risking a stronger attachment to her.

His time was better spent searching for the woman he had promised himself to. Not courting someone else.

But he wanted to. He wanted to know Lady Aubrey more than he had ever wanted to know anyone else.

Good Lord, what was wrong with him?

Seeing her walk down the path from the house, he choked back the curse that hovered on his lips, groaning instead.

Her midnight blue riding habit showcasing her many curves. A hat tilted on her head saucily, but was balanced by one honey-blond curl falling over her shoulder.

Clenching his fists, he fought back the urge to move the silken hair and kiss the tender part of her neck.

“Were you able to find a groom to ride with us?” Aubrey asked as she approached.

“Yes, the stable master is readying his horse now.”

“Excellent.” She looked at the white mare and smiled. “I was hoping to ride her again. I quite enjoyed it last time.”

“I thought you might. I asked for her especially for you.” The pleasure that lit her face had his blood pumping hotter.

“That was kind of you. Thank you.”

“It was nothing,” he said, hoping she didn’t hear how hoarse his voice was becoming. Why did one small sign of pleasure from her have him wanting to give her more? Much, much more.

A quick image filled his mind, showing him a different kind of pleasure he would like to give her, but he quickly stamped it out. He may be attracted to Lady Aubrey, but he had already given his promise to another.

As the groom’s horse was led out of the stable, Bradford called out to the waiting man that hovered a discreet distance away. “Follow behind us so we are in sight, but no further.”

“Yes, my lord.”

“May I?” he asked, offering his assistance with her mount. She nodded, flowing easily into his grasp.

Trying to ignore the sharp curve of her waist, he quickly deposited her on the back of her horse before rounding to his own. “I’ll follow.”

“Excellent.” She gave him a grin that told him she was pleased with the courtesy.

After a moment of watching her body curve, moving as one with her mount, he quickly regretted his decision to follow her. She sat a horse beautifully, her back straight to almost the point of an arch. She tossed a teasing look behind her, almost daring him to catch her, and he had to stop himself from doing just that.

Quickening her pace to a trot, her body posting with the horse had him moaning at the sight. Seeing her slide up and down, moving so in tune with the animal, had all sorts of images of her moving that way above him.

With a curse, he moved his horse into a canter to close the distance between them, preferring to ride at her side.

While it kept her out of his line of vision, the damage had already been done. He was aware of her like he had only ever been one other time, with another woman. His mystery woman.

Why was this happening to him? Why with two different women?

If he had been this aware of Lady Aubrey before the masquerade, he would have gladly courted her, happily married her so he could have her in his bed. But he wouldn’t have realized how much he could enjoy her out of bed as well. He could see himself with her, sitting at the breakfast table, conversing about the little things that married couples tended to discuss.

The breath was knocked out of him as he brought his horse to a dead stop.

Marriage to Lady Aubrey. When had such a thought entered his mind? When had he let his attraction for her spiral so out of control that he would even consider such a thing when he had promised his future to another?

Noticing that her partner had stopped, Lady Aubrey brought her horse around. “Is everything all right? Is your horse injured?” Concern was evident in her voice.

It took a minute to get his breath back. “No. He is fine. I just needed a moment to rest.”

She eyed him skeptically, clearly seeing through his lie. Glancing at the groom far behind them she offered, “Shall we walk for a bit?”

He nodded his agreement and was grateful to have his feet planted firmly on the ground, both physically and metaphorically.

Silence enclosed them as they walked, but he didn’t feel unnerved by it. In fact, as the minutes passed, his unease began to recede.

“This might be impertinent of me, but I am a good listener. I would be happy to hear about something that is bothering you if you feel like sharing.”

The offer surprised him. The prospect of telling her about the masquerade woman, something he hadn’t told anyone else yet, was hard to resist.

He didn’t know why, but he trusted her. Trusted her completely with something that was so important to him. And somehow, deep down, he felt like if he told her that he was trying to find another woman, her appeal would lessen.

He was ready to try anything at that moment to get the attraction he was feeling for her out of his system.

“That is very kind of you,” he said before pausing. How much should he tell? Should he start from the beginning and lay it all out?

Then an idea hit him. Perhaps she could help him. She might even know the woman.

Why hadn’t he thought of that possibility before? He could have told someone, anyone, and they may have known of his lady. He was desperate enough to try anything at this point.

“There is something, in fact, that has been on my mind of late.”

She remained silent, as the best listeners do.

“I recall you mentioning that you attended Lady Templeton’s masquerade.” He paused for her nod of confirmation. “Sometime after I arrived, a woman entered the room. I didn’t recognize her, had no clue who she was. We danced together, and I was… intrigued by her.”

“I see,” she said softly, beginning to walk slower.

Mistaking her voice for sadness, he felt a twinge in his heart. He didn’t want to hurt her, but he had to tell her, had to let her know that there was someone else. He stopped and fully turned to her, the need to tell her everything overwhelming him. “I need to find her.”

“She’s important to you.” It was said as a statement, but he couldn’t tell how she felt about it.

“Yes.” He looked to the horizon as if searching for the woman. “I have to find her.”

She hesitated only slightly. “I wish there was something I could do to help you.”

Her offer of help was sweeter than any gift anyone had ever given him. Her kindness, even through her own disappoint, had no equal.

With every second that he spent in her presence, he was drawn even more to her, found more qualities within her that he admired, respected.

She was so much more than he had ever known. So much more than the quiet wallflower she presented herself as. What a fool he had been.

What a fool he was now.

He was telling her how important this other woman was to him, and all he could think about was her. Her qualities. Her kindness.

He cleared his throat. “Actually, there is something you could do to help me.”

“There is?” She turned toward him.

“Yes. I know some basic attributes of hers. I could use your help compiling a list of who might possess those traits.”

Walking away, lost in thought, he thought she might refuse him, and his gut clenched. He wanted her help.

“I would be happy to help you in any way I can.” There was a hitch in her voice as she made the offer. Turning back toward him she offered a wobbly smile, and he couldn’t help but approach her. The pain etched in her features was something he couldn’t ignore. To have her offer her help, regardless of her feelings or desires, was more than anyone had ever done for him.

Gripping her arms lightly, he waited for her to look up at him. Her eyes, bright with sadness and unshed tears, had him berating himself. How could he be so thoughtless?

He pulled her against him, needing to give her comfort. “I’m sorry. I never should have asked such a thing of you.”

“No.” The one word was strong, making him pull back to look at her face, read what she was feeling. “Please don’t be sorry about that. I would do anything to help you.” She looked so sad and it caused another twist in his heart.

“Not at this cost.” He took a deep breath before continuing. “I care about you, Aubrey. I don’t know when the feelings started, but I care for you. I don’t want to hurt you.”

She stilled in his arms, absorbing what he had said. With her features impassive, he wasn’t sure how she received his declaration.

“I care about you too,” she finally whispered, looking up into his eyes.

He was drowning. The feelings in her eyes seemed to latch onto him, seemed to pull him into her where nothing else mattered.

Suddenly, he realized he held her against him. Her lush curves against the hard planes of his body, his arms wrapped around her slim waist.

When had that happened? He had meant to hold her in comfort, but all he could think about was how good she felt against him.

His gaze dropped to her lips, and the plump rose of her bottom lip beckoned to him.

Her quick intake of breath let him know that she knew he contemplated kissing her. The fact that she didn’t pull away from him, made his desire for her flair hotter.

With Aubrey firmly in his arms, the masquerade woman fled his mind. Nothing and no one else mattered more than this moment with Aubrey.

He felt like he was standing on the edge of a cliff, waiting for one swift breeze to push him over. When her small, pink tongue darted out to wet her lips, he was lost.

Cursing his lack of control, he swooped down, finally tasting the lips that had entranced him more than any other sight ever had.

The immediate taste overwhelmed him. She was tart and sweet at the same time, more refreshing then anything he had ever tasted. Her flavor seemed to seep into him, made him want more and more of her.

With a small cry, which he wasn’t sure was from relief or distress, she threw her arms around his neck, pulling him closer.

The kiss turned darker, more demanding. He couldn’t help himself as he slanted his lips over hers again and again, trying to find a better angle. But every angle was amazing.

She fit in his arms perfectly. There wasn’t anything about her that didn’t feel just right against his body. If these were the last few minutes of his life, he would happily die a satisfied man in her arms.

But this wasn’t the last moment of his life. And he couldn’t seem to get enough of her.

He felt her body press more firmly against his as if she wanted to crawl inside of him to get closer. A growl escaped his throat as he thought of all the ways he wanted to be closer to her.

Had he ever felt so overwhelmed, so in tune with someone else?

The thought was like ice water to his desire. Pulling away abruptly, he cursed, turning away from her.

“I’m… I’m sorry,” she said, desire and confusion tingeing her voice.

Hands clenching into fists, he regretted his actions. Their kiss had been more powerful, more overwhelming than he had ever felt before. Even with the masquerade woman.

But he wasn’t free. He had made a promise to another woman, and he couldn’t take it back.

Cursing himself twice the fool, he finally turned back toward her. “You don’t owe me an apology. It is I who must apologize to you.”

“I…” she trailed off. “Did I do something wrong?”

“No!” The denial was ripped from somewhere in his chest. He couldn’t bear for her to think that she had done something wrong. Or that she lacked in some way. “You are perfect. More wonderful than anyone I have ever met.” A light flickered in her eyes, a light of hope, but there was no hope. “You have done nothing wrong, but I have.”

Her face fell, and he felt like a cad. Wrenching away from her pain, he turned, raking his fingers through his hair in frustration. A gesture that he had never done before.

His normally perfect hair stood on end from his fingers.

“I made a promise to another.”

She was quiet for a moment, processing what he had just said. “The masquerade woman.”

He nodded, frustrated with his life. “Yes. I promised myself to her, promised that I would find her.”

“I will help you.”

He shook his head forcefully. “No. I can’t ask that of you. Especially after what just happened between us. I can’t hurt you more.” He breathed shakily, turning toward her. “I hate myself that I’ve hurt you already.

He felt her feathery light touch on his arm. “I am responsible for myself, Bradford. I have made my own choice, and I will take care of my own feelings. I don’t regret what has passed between us, and I never will. But I’d like to think of myself as your friend.”

“You are. Perhaps even the best I’ve ever had.”

She smiled wistfully at that. “Tell me what you know of her, and I will help you in this.”

He searched her face, looking for the hurt, but didn’t see it. He had no idea that she was capable of masking such a strong emotion, but he knew she did now. What else didn’t he know about her?

“Honey-blond hair, green eyes, medium height,” he listed off her features like a list of numbers. “And she is here at the house party.”

“She is here? Are you certain?”

He nodded, but there was no enthusiasm in the gesture. “I saw her at the masquerade the other night. She told me.”

“I see.” She looked up at him again. I will make a list as soon as I return to the house. Pasting on a smile, which he clearly saw was fake, she gestured to the horse. “I believe we’ve walked long enough. Shall we return to the house and start the hunt?”

He wanted to hold her again, tell her how much she had come to mean to him, but he couldn’t. He wasn’t free to do so. So he nodded his agreement instead, moving to lift her to her horse.

Seeing her stiffen in the saddle, he looked up to see the groom approaching them. He had completely forgotten he was there.

“Will we be continuing on or returning to the manor?” the servant asked, any hint that he had witnessed their embrace was hidden.

The fact that none of Viscount Lawrence’s grooms were available that morning, and that he had to use one of his own men, was a boon. “We will be returning to the manor directly. Thank you, John.”

His servant nodded, acknowledging his master’s words and the silent request that what he had seen remain a secret. But Bradford wasn’t concerned that his servant would tell anyone. He had long since weeded out any of his staff that would gossip.

As the groom rode away, he looked up at Aubrey, tension creasing her brow. “There is no need to worry,” he quickly soothed. “He is one of my servants and he would never say a word.”

At his reassurance, she relaxed in the saddle, and he was taken aback by the amount of trust she showed him.

After checking that she was secure, he turned to his horse and mounted. There wasn’t anything left to say.

***

Quickly making her way to her room, she shut the door firmly before sinking onto the bed. The tears began slowly, then built with such pressure that there was no stopping them.

The hurt that had left her numb during their ride back to the estate was thawing, allowing her to feel the pain of losing Bradford.

She had never entered a competition for a man’s heart, never had any desire to. But she wanted Bradford’s heart like nothing she had ever wanted before. The fact that he wanted someone else hurt.

And the terrible thing was that he didn’t want another woman.  He wanted the masquerade woman, which was a part of her, but not really. She was a ghost, a fantasy.

However, she, Lady Aubrey, was flesh and blood. A true woman with feelings and emotions and desires.

How could he not know it was her? How could he scrutinize everyone, cataloging their traits, and not notice that the honey-blonde, emerald eyed woman was her?

Despair crushed her. When his eyes had looked into hers, when he had kissed her with a passion that she had never known, her heart had soared so high. She thought she would never be the same. And it had been true, she never would be the same. But in the next breath, when he had pulled away from her and she saw the look in his eye, she had crashed to the ground.

He had chosen the other woman. He chose a fantasy.

Her heart wrenched, more tears staining her pillow.

“Goodness! Aubrey, what is the matter?” Charlotte closed the door softly and rushed to her side.

With her sister’s comforting presence, the dam on her feelings burst, and she sobbed uncontrollably. Charlotte let out a soft cry as she heard her older sister break.

Her sister’s comforting arms wrapped around her. “Oh dear. Have a good cry. Cry it out.”

Her touch felt good, seemed to lessen the hollowness in her soul. She didn’t have Bradford, but she had her sister, her family. And they loved her.

A few more tears escaped her, purging the hurt enough that she could breathe.

With a quick squeeze around her sister’s waist, Aubrey silently thanked her for the comfort she had given.

“I’m sorry.” Aubrey leaned away and sniffled. “You might need to change your dress.”

Her sister waved the worry away. “It’s all right. I needed to change anyway.” She took Aubrey’s hand as they sat on her bed facing each other. “Now tell me what happened. What is the matter?”

For a moment she thought about denying the request, thought about how crazy it would sound, but she knew she couldn’t hold it all in any longer. She needed to share it with someone.

“Oh Charlotte, it’s a mess.”

“What is, dearest? What has happened? Start from the beginning.”

And that was exactly what Aubrey did. Starting from when she walked into Lady Templeton’s masquerade and ending with what had happened between the duke and herself during their latest ride.

Aubrey ended with a deep breath, feeling the weight of it all rise slightly from her shoulders. Why had she waited so long to tell anyone?

Glancing at Charlotte, Aubrey wanted to laugh at the surprised look on her sister’s face. “Why did you not tell me sooner?”

“There was nothing to tell. Nothing had happened between the two of us.”

“Nothing to tell?” her sister’s voice rose slightly. “The duke declared himself to you weeks ago!”

Shaking her head softly, Aubrey denied her sister’s words. “You don’t understand, Charlotte. He didn’t declare himself to me.” Seeing her sister’s confused look, Aubrey clarified. “He declared himself to the masquerade woman. She doesn’t exist.”

“But she does exist. You are she.”

“Not really.”

“Yes, really.” Charlotte squeezed her hand, gaining her full attention. “I have never understood why you have waited on the edges of the ballroom. You are gorgeous!” At her sister’s disbelieving snort she tried again. “You are gorgeous and charming, generous and intelligent. But you hide yourself away. You hide from others instead of showing how beautiful you are inside and out. I have never understood why.”

“I don’t know.”

“I see the masquerade woman in you. I see how beautiful and lively you are. Perhaps you needed the anonymity to unlock it yourself. When you believe in yourself, when you accept it and show the world, you are the masquerade woman.”

The words were like a balm to her soul. Her sister was squeezing her hand, almost as if she could pump her words into Aubrey’s heart.

Was Charlotte right? Had Aubrey been hiding something away all these years? Hovering on the edges of the ballroom to escape notice?

She hadn’t felt comfortable her first season, hadn’t fit the mold of a true debutant. Was that why she had felt lacking? Felt like she needed to haunt the fringe of the ballroom? She hadn’t quite thought of it that way before.

“I know who you are Aubrey. And I love who you are.”

With a soft smile, Aubrey squeezed her sister’s hand. “I love you too.” She took a cleansing breath. “You’re right. I hadn’t realized that I hid on the edge of the rooms.”

Her sister nodded to drive her point home.

“Perhaps it’s time that I stopped.” Something felt as if it were releasing in her chest. She felt lighter, freer. “I think tonight will be as good as any to show the ton what they’ve been missing.”

Charlotte laughed in delight and leaned in to hug her sister. “I can’t wait to see it. They won’t know what hit them.”

They laughed together for a moment before falling into another silence. “What do you plan to do about the duke?”

If only Aubrey knew. She could finally confess to who she was, but did she want that? A part of her still yearned for him to recognize her on his own, to know that she was the one he wanted regardless of his promise.

But would he ever be able to do that?

She knew he was a man of his word, and once given, would never break it. But what if he never found the woman? How long would he wait until he moved on?

It seemed so overwhelming.

“Is it really all that bad?” Charlotte asked, clearly seeing the debate on her sister’s face.

“I don’t know what to do. I want him to want me the way I am, because of me. Not because he promised a faceless woman at a masquerade.”

“I see.” Her sister paused as if considering something. “But Aubrey, he said he would want you no matter who you were, no matter what your reputation. Do you not believe him?”

“Of course I do. He is a man of his word. But I don’t want him to be required to accept me because of those words.”

Deep in thought, the two girls thought of how they might change Aubrey’s situation. But as the minutes passed, neither had an idea.

“Come, let’s get ready.” Taking Aubrey’s hand again, Charlotte led her to her dressing table. “Let’s focus on you right now. Everything will work out. I’m sure of it.” With a wicked grin she added, “Besides, the true Lady Aubrey will be presented to the guests this evening, and she must ready herself for all the male attention that will be turned her way.”

Aubrey laughed, the tiredness creeping into the sound. “I highly doubt that.”

Charlotte looked incredulous. “You can’t be serious! Aubrey, when I am finished with you, I guarantee, ever single man in this house will flock to you.”

With that promise, Charlotte set to making her sister fit for a debut others wouldn’t soon forget.

CHAPTER 8

Swearing, Bradford stuck a diamond pin into the knot at his neck. He kissed her. Kissed Aubrey.

What must she think of him?

One minute he had told her that he needed her help to find another woman, and the next he was kissing her, holding her as if he never wanted to let her go.

She must despise him. And he wouldn’t blame her. He couldn’t.

He wanted to head back to London immediately, but that would only make matters worse. He had come to appreciate Aubrey more than anyone else in his life. He couldn’t bear the thought of losing her friendship.

What was it about her that drove him a little mad? It hadn’t started out as an overwhelming feeling, more like a small breeze that quickly evolved into a hurricane.

That’s what had happened. He had finally sunk.

What was it about her that appealed to him? He admired her, certainly. She was bright, caring and had a sense of humor he could respect. But there was something more. There was something deep inside her that screamed of dark and sultry nights. Whispered of nights filled with passions that he had never known.

Could it be possible that no one had ever seen it in her before? She stayed along the walls during parties, sufficiently taking herself out of running for suitors. But she had so much to offer.

Any man would kneel down and give thanks to the Lord for such a precious gift as she. He knew he would.

He let out another oath before yanking on his dinner jacket. He shouldn’t be thinking of her. He needed to shut her out of his mind and think of the masquerade woman, as he so often told himself.

His heart clenched, and he tried to ignore the ache in his chest as he left his room. Lady Aubrey wasn’t meant for him. And he needed to stop thinking of her.

He just didn’t know if he could.

Laughter echoed down the halls that led to the parlor where the guests were gathering before dinner. Several men’s chuckles could be heard above the rest, and he knew they shared a common joke. He bet it was the kind that was whispered beneath their breaths.

He was wrong.

Entering the room, his eyes immediately locked onto Aubrey, and his shock had him taking a step in retreat. Her enticing form showcased in a sky blue silk made him think of warm, summer days. Her energy vibrated through the room as her pink lips curved slyly at one of the guests. Laughter broke out again as the men who circled her relished her reaction to their joke.

She looked transformed, beautiful. Looking at her now, he would have never guessed that she had been a wallflower. She commanded the attention in the room, entertained the guests as if she were the hostess.

Her eyes sparkled with a hidden secret, but her cheeks blushed becomingly as if she wanted to tell that same secret to someone special. And he knew that every man circling her wanted to be that special someone. She held herself strait with pride, showcasing her curves with the unabashed shyness of a woman who knew she was beautiful and expected others to worship at her feet.

Oh, how he wanted to.

He was struck down with wanting her. He felt like a man who had gone without a week of water and was suddenly thrown into a magical pond. He wanted to lap her up, steal her away and keep her in his bed for a month.

As he looked around, he saw that more than one man had been thinking the same thing. He wouldn’t be surprised if Lady Aubrey received more than one marriage proposal this evening.

Hot, flaring jealousy coursed through him at the thought of anyone else having her, touching her, enjoying her laughter.

He wanted her for himself, wanted to pick her up and cart her away from the other men’s lust-filled eyes to a place where only he could be with her. But he couldn’t. The frustration that raged inside was intolerable. He cursed the day he went to Lady Templeton’s masquerade. If it hadn’t been for his promise, he would already have Lady Aubrey in his arms.

He walked into the room finally, moving to a corner where he could watch her discreetly. True, they were friends now, but he wasn’t about to march to her side and commandeer her attention.

“Wathersby, will you not come join us?” Sir Douglas asked, currently among the men of admiring suitors. “Lady Aubrey has been comparing society’s rules with the rules of nature. She is under the impression that animals have it right and that we have erred in our rules of propriety.”

The glittering laughter that floated across Aubrey’s lips seemed to enchant the men around her. “That’s not quite what I said, Sir Douglas. What I meant to imply was that an animal’s way of finding a mate is much more practical than how society tends to go about it. But perhaps we should change the subject before we break another rule of propriety by discussing mating habits before dinner.” The men chuckled around her again, their attention completely on her.

Enjoying herself, she seemed completely at ease. At least until he noticed that she was toying with her ring, making the jewel continually circle around her finger. Seeing the slight discomfort intrigued him. Had she been doing that before he entered the room?

Was it possible that she was as affected by him as he was by her? He wanted to think so, wanted to know what was in her heart, but it wasn’t right. He had no claim to her.

“Will you not join us, Your Grace?” she politely echoed the request, but when her eyes slyly shifted to him, he felt something quake inside him. There had been something so familiar in the look, something on the edge of his mind. Had she looked at him that way before, or was he thinking of someone else?

As he watched her laugh lightly at another joke, he wanted to groan as her figure shifted in the silk cloth, emphasizing her more feminine curves.

Torture. Watching her weave magic over other men was going to kill him.

A honey-kissed curl teased the creamy skin at her neck, drawing his attention to how slender it was. His eyes traced up, loving the curve of her chin, her rosebud lips, and her pert nose that led to eyes that looked as green as freshly cut grass after a light rain.

When her lips curved again, he was shot through with lightning.

It couldn’t be.

Honey-blonde hair, emerald eyes, medium height. That was a perfect description of Aubrey. How could he have never seen it before?

Leaning forward in the chair, his eyes raked down the rest of her body, comparing it to what he remembered of the masquerade woman. It could be her.

But no, she would have said something earlier. Told him that she was the one he was looking for.

Thinking of all the times he had spoken with her since the ball, danced even, he couldn’t believe it. He would have known. Would have seen it.

Her eyes met his again, her lips curved as if she knew a secret.

Bloody hell.

Aubrey was the masquerade woman. She was the woman he had been looking for.

All at once, the laughter was out of Aubrey’s eyes, the smile wiped off her face, her jovial features replaced by pure fear.

She knew that he had figured it out.

Watching her make her excuses to her audience, she quickly slipped from the room. He left only a few seconds after. If she thought she was about to get away from him, she was mistaken.

She was his. Only his. And he didn’t care who saw it.

Moving quickly, he cornered her in the hallway leading to the staircase. He caught her hand, whipping her around and used his body to trap her against a wall, effectively caging her in his arms.

“What do you think you are doing?” she gasped out, trying to play as if she didn’t know what he wanted.

“You know exactly what I’m doing, Aubrey.”

He didn’t give her another moment to speak, to voice an objection, he just took. Capturing her lips, he claimed her. He couldn’t be gentle, couldn’t be tame with the feelings that were erupting within him. The frustrations he had felt over the past few weeks poured through him as he swept into her mouth, branding her, binding her to him.

He wouldn’t let up, wouldn’t let go. All that she had put him through over the past few weeks—wanting her, denying himself because of a promise he made to the masquerade woman. Tearing himself apart with want for one woman because of duty to another had finally pushed him over the edge.

It had been her the entire time.

Her body finally relaxed against his, as swept away by the passion building between them as he was, and he couldn’t help but take her a bit deeper.

When she shuddered against him, he knew she was lost.

Pulling away, he looked into her eyes, gripping her upper arms as if he couldn’t bear to let her go now that he had found her. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

The time for pretending was over. Slowly, tears filled her eyes. “I couldn’t.”

“Why not? There were plenty of opportunities.”

She hesitated only slightly. “I was afraid.”

He cursed quietly. “Why? I told you that it didn’t matter to me who you were. I wanted you no matter what.”

“Really? Had I told you that night at Lady Templeton’s masquerade that I was Lady Aubrey, you wouldn’t have cared?” Once she began, it was impossible to hold it back. “You wouldn’t have cared that the woman you had just declared yourself to was a wallflower? A woman that had been shunned by every other man in that room?” Her voice lowered, dripping with disgust. “A woman that you took pity on and danced with because you were courting her friend?”

His brows stitched together. “What are you talking about?”

“Oh, you know what I’m referring to. Every time you danced with Lady Sera, you danced with me after. Everyone saw it as a gentlemanly gesture and that you pitied me.”

“That’s not true. It never was true.”

“Oh, so you just wanted to dance with me every single time after Lady Sera?”

“Yes.”

The one word seemed to startle her, robbing her of speech.

“I’ll not lie to you and tell you that there was a spark between us before the masquerade. I was a fool, and I know it. But even then, before I got to know you, I enjoyed your company. You are an excellent partner, and I enjoyed the time I spent dancing with you.” He could see his words affected her, touched something deep inside. “As for the rest of what you said, no I wouldn’t have cared that you were a wallflower. Hell, I wouldn’t have cared had you been ruined. I wanted you, needed you. Nothing else mattered to me. I didn’t care about your reputation, your fortune, or your family connections. It was only you who mattered. Nothing else.”

She looked up at him sadly. “You say that now, but this morning you didn’t choose me. You turned away from me, appalled that you had kissed me. You chose her. Not me. She’s not real, and you only want me now because you know that I happened to be the girl behind the mask.”

His grip tightened. He could feel her slipping away from him. Closing off the possibility of what he wanted to offer her. “No. I want you, Aubrey. Damn it, I want you.” He kissed her again quickly, filled with all the frustration he was feeling. If there were some way to communicate his feelings for her, he would try any way he could.

Pulling away, leaning his forehead against hers. “You have no idea how I’ve been torturing myself. Unable to break my vow but wanting you more than I ever wanted her.”

She shook her head against his words, forcing back the tears.

“Please. Please, believe me. I want you.”

Hearing the soft patter of steps from down the hall, Aubrey jerked out of his embrace. “I must go before someone sees me.”

“I don’t care who sees us.”

“I do.” She gave him a look filled with regret, and he saw that she didn’t believe him. He only had another few seconds before the person would come upon them.

As she began to ascend the stairs, he grabbed her hand to get her attention. “Come to my room tonight. I need to talk to you about this.”

He saw that she was about to refuse him and his grip tightened. “If you do not promise to come later, I will not let you go now.”

Her eyes widened, and she finally nodded her agreement before racing up the stairs.

He should be ashamed for cornering her while she was so vulnerable, but he wasn’t. He would do whatever was necessary to convince her that she belonged with him.

And he would never let her go.

“Ah, there you are, Your Grace. I have come to fetch you for dinner. We are about to enter.” Lady Victoria smiled, glancing up the stairs as if she knew that Lady Aubrey had just left.

She probably did.

Annoyance bubbled within him and he fought the urge to lash out at Victoria. That was the second time she had come between Aubrey and himself, and he didn’t feel nearly as forgiving as the first time. In fact, she had probably timed it, knowing that they were out in the hall alone.

But venting some of his frustration wouldn’t accomplish anything. He needed to save his strength, save all his energy to persuade Aubrey to accept him.

She would come to him tonight, and he would finally set things right.

She would be his.

***

“What happened?” Charlotte stormed into the room only a few minutes behind her.

The fact that Charlotte understood Aubrey’s incoherent explanation of what took place didn’t surprise her. They had been able to understand each other since they were very young.

“Are you going to go to him tonight?”

Charlotte’s matter of fact question startled her, forcing her to think rationally.

What was the matter with her? She was normally so strong, so comfortable with her life, but since the masquerade she had turned into someone she couldn’t admire. Someone she didn’t like.

“I don’t know. Charlotte I don’t know what I should do.”

“He said he wanted you, Aubrey. He said that he wanted to be with you and that he always enjoyed your company. That it was eating him up, because he wanted you regardless of a promise he made to a faceless woman.”

“I just couldn’t bear for him to realize in a year or two that he married an unimportant wallflower.”

“You weren’t a wallflower tonight,” her sister said slyly, making Aubrey laugh lightly.

“No. I wasn’t.”

“Perhaps that was how he finally figured it out.”

Thinking about it, it seemed possible. She had opened herself up, had been unafraid of flirting with the bachelors in residence. It had felt so liberating.

The chains she had tied around herself had broken free. And she had just been Aubrey. The Aubrey that had been there all along.

She remembered the way he had watched her in the parlor, surrounded by all those men. He had seemed on edge. Jealous even. A light came on inside her. He wanted her as Aubrey.

“I’ve been ridiculous.”

Charlotte grinned before giving her a hug. “Not ridiculous, just silly.”

Aubrey’s lip quirked to the side. “Thank you so much, sister.”

“Anytime.” Charlotte grinned playfully. “Shall I make excuses for you at dinner? Your eyes are a still a bit puffy.”

Nodding, Aubrey agreed that that was best. She didn’t want to face anyone yet.

As her sister left in a hurry to dinner, Aubrey paced her room, thinking over the time she had spent with Bradford.

She really had been a fool. What did it matter if he wanted her or the masquerade woman? They were both her. They were each parts of her.

The fact that he wanted both parts was what made her love him.

Love.

Yes, she silently acknowledged it again. She loved him. Loved him with all of her being. He was the most giving and noble man she had ever known.

To know that he would always be faithful to her, that she would never have to worry about him tiring of her, or him taking a mistress, was a relief.

And she rejoiced in the knowledge that she would never want another.

She would go to him tonight. And she would tell him that she believed him; that she wanted nothing more than to be with him.

Excitement surged through her. He was going to be hers.

Finally.

Ringing for Bitsy, she had the maid ready a bath for her. She wanted to relax, have her nerves completely settled before she went to him.

A smile curved wickedly on her lips. She was going to a man’s bedroom. Oh, how far this wallflower has come.

With a laugh, she readied herself to face the duke.

It was almost midnight by the time the house settled down for the night. The extra time she spent in her room hadn’t relaxed her one bit. Instead, she had spent the time tying herself in knots, thinking of all the possible outcomes of tonight’s conversation.

Tiptoeing, hoping to remain silent, she paused in front of his door. Was she supposed to knock?

She was being silly. Not only might she wake someone to have them discover her in front of the duke’s door, but he was expecting her.

With a deep breath, she placed her hand on the doorknob, ready to enter his room. Before turning the handle, she heard a furious whisper from within. Was someone in there with him?

She released the handle, ready to turn back to her room. But before she took a step, she paused.

She could go back to her room now, but she didn’t want to. He knew she would be coming. It was probably her imagination. Or he was talking to himself.

Grinning, she was amused by such an image.

It was now or never. And she was ready now.

Not needing another breath, Aubrey turned the handle and walked inside the room.

But what she saw once she entered was enough to break her heart. With her breath robbed, she looked between Lady Victoria, clearly unclothed in Bradford’s bed, and the man she had come to see, who stood at the foot of that same bed.

It wasn’t difficult to see that she had walked in on something. Had she misunderstood him earlier? Had he not asked her to come to him tonight?

The grin on Victoria’s face, signaling that she had won, sliced through Aubrey’s heart. She hadn’t known that something could be this painful. That she could feel as if her heart was literally ripped out of her chest.

Backing away, Bradford finally moved toward her. “Aubrey, wait. This isn’t what it looks like.”

“Don’t,” Aubrey said quietly, the steel in her voice evident. “Don’t say anything.” Before he could reach out to her, she turned and fled the room.

Turning slowly, Bradford faced the woman who had crossed him one time too many. This woman may have just come between him and the woman he intended to marry. The woman he loved.

The feelings he felt for Aubrey burned so hotly, so strongly, he was surprised others weren’t burned by them.

“Get out,” he calmly said, not wanting to yell at the woman. However, when her expression turned coy, the desire to throttle her almost overwhelmed him.

“I would, but I don’t have any clothes on.” She smirked, and he could tell that she thought she had won.

“I don’t care. It wouldn’t be anything that I haven’t seen before.”

Her startled expression made him want to smirk. She stuttered, clearly shocked that he hadn’t taken her invitation.

“I’ll even be fair to you. I’ll turn my back, and you can take the sheet with you.”

“You cad.” Angry red splotches marred her cheeks. “I could scream right now and have the entire house down in this room within seconds. Then you would be forced into marrying me.”

Black hot rage surged through him. If she thought she could handle him, trick him into marrying her, she was wrong. “It wouldn’t make any difference. Whether you are ruined or not, I will never marry you.” The disbelief that crossed her face made him continue like a predator after smelling blood. “With all that you have put me through in the last year, you can’t be surprised. I was willing to let go of the lies that you spread about Lady Sera.” The look of astonishment that crossed her face brought the first feeling of surprise to him. “What? You didn’t realize that I knew about that? How could I not? First, you ruined that relationship, then you tried to pretend to be Lady Aubrey at the masquerade, and now this.” He took a menacing step forward. “Let me be perfectly clear, Lady Victoria, as I should have been before. I will never marry you. There is nothing that you could ever do to entice me to do so, and no matter the circumstances, I will never pledge my life to yours.”

He could see the anger written in every part of her body, but what he hadn’t expected were the tears that began to flow down her face.

With a slow wipe of her cheek, she looked down at the trail of wetness in her hand as if she were confused at what she saw.

A sliver of pity rose in his chest, but he fought it back.

She swallowed deeply and nodded before tugging the sheet around her, rising with the grace of a queen. Without another word, she left, miserably silent as tears continued to flow freely.

While he never wished to bring a woman to tears, he knew that what he had said to Victoria was something she needed to hear. He just wished that the whole thing could have been avoided.

Thinking of Aubrey, he knew he needed to find her. Quickly. The hurt that had crossed her features, feeding the vulnerability she already possessed, was more than he could bear.

Physically, it was painful for him, knowing what she must have thought when she saw him with Victoria.

Hell, had it been him, he would have probably believed the worst as well. But this couldn’t come between them. He wouldn’t let it.

Searching the library, he cursed the situation when he couldn’t find her. He looked in the music room next, and continued to the parlor. Soon he was cursing everything for making this so difficult.

He needed to find her. Needed to set things right between the two of them before any more damage was done. Before the hurt festered.

At a loss, he looked around the empty hall. Where could she have gone at such a late hour?

Glancing out the window, he noticed how bright it was. It was a cloudless night, and would probably be warm as well. Would she have gone outside alone?

He strode to the door with purpose, but what he didn’t know, was that she had escaped him yet again.

CHAPTER 9

Collapsing on one of the stone benches in the rose garden, Aubrey’s chest heaved with heavy tears, so much so that she thought she wouldn’t be able to breathe again. Tears raced down her cheeks, attesting to the pain that seared inside.

Where had she gone wrong? How could she have misunderstood so much?

He had wanted Victoria all along and had just been toying with her. Rage surged through her, cancelling out her tears.

Who did he think he was?

She was worth more than this. Much more. She was Lady Aubrey, daughter of the Viscount Norcliff. She may have been a wallflower, but that was over. She had an impressive dowry, and after tonight she knew that she could capture the attention of a husband.

Bradford’s face filled her mind and her heart clenched. She had wanted him. Only him.

Only an hour ago she had been so hopeful. Thinking that he might actually propose to her this night.

What a silly fool.

Love had done this to her. He had made her feel, made her want. She loved him and she had allowed herself to believe, even for a few moments, that what he said about her was true.

She would never be so trusting again.

With a cleansing sigh, she wiped her tears. She didn’t want to be here a moment longer than she had to. It was too painful to be close by him, knowing she would never have him. She needed to leave, to get away and clear her mind, decide what she would do with her life.

Rising from the bench, she walked back into the house, making her way to her room. She wouldn’t be sleeping tonight, she already knew.

“Charlotte.” Aubrey whispered, entering the room.

Groggy, her sister sat up in bed. “Aubrey? Is everything all right?” she asked, becoming more alert by the second. “What happened with the duke?”

“I can’t talk about it now.” Aubrey’s voice hitched.

“Was it bad?”

Nodding, Aubrey answered, “Yes.”

“What can I do to help?”

“There isn’t much. Help me to convince mother and father to leave first thing in the morning. I can’t face him again so soon.”

Charlotte tossed bedclothes aside, climbing out of her bed to give her sister a quick squeeze. “If it is truly what you want, I will help you.”

“It is. Thank you.”

“There’s no need to thank me. I’m sure there will come a time when I need your help to escape. Just think of this as payment for when that time comes.”

A watery chuckle crossed Aubrey’s lips. “I’ll remember that.”

Aubrey had been right when she knew she wouldn’t sleep that night. Slightly numb, the night had passed quickly, thankfully, and at dawn a maid had entered the room to light the fire.

“I have just spoken with mother. I told her that I thought I might be receiving a proposal from the Earl of Westly but I would need to leave for town immediately. She agreed that we would leave within two hours.”

“The Earl of Westly?” Aubrey had to laugh at that. “I can just imagine mother’s face at the prospect.” Looking to her sister, her expression turned serious once again. “You’re sure you don’t mind leaving early?”

“Not at all. I can’t wait to return to London. I’ve had enough of the country.” Her sister’s tone turned brisk. “Come now. Let’s finish our breakfast and dress.”

Nodding her agreement, Aubrey allowed Bitsy to help her dress. Trying to block out any thoughts of where the duke might be at that very moment.

Was he in the dining room with the other guests eating breakfast? Was he out for a morning ride?

Her heart clenched thinking of the time she spent with him. She would never recover from it. He had affected her as no other had ever done before. He had become a part of her to the point where she didn’t know how she would live out the rest of her life without him. It was possible, at least she hoped so.

She tried consoling herself, but her thoughts only made her more depressed. There would be no relief from the pain anytime soon. The betrayal was too close, her love for him too enormous for her feelings to be contained.

“Mother should be here shortly. Are you set to leave?” Charlotte asked, interrupting Aubrey’s dour thoughts.

Nodding briskly, she tried to convey strength that she didn’t have. “Yes.”

“Oh, I beg your pardon, my lady,” Bitsy said, looking toward Charlotte. “But I heard Lady Langston say that there would be a delay of some sort.”

Charlotte’s eyes furrowed. “Did she say what it was?”

“No, my lady.”

“Thank you, Bitsy.”

Aubrey looked at herself in the mirror, smoothing her pale yellow skirt. “I think we’re finished here, Bitsy. Thank you.”

The maid bobbed a curtsy. “Your welcome, my lady,” she said before leaving the room.

Turning toward her sister, Aubrey wondered aloud. “Why would mother need to delay?”

“I haven’t a clue.” Charlotte shrugged.

“I might as well go see if there is anything I can do to help. I don’t relish the thought of staying here a moment longer than necessary.”

“Good idea. I’ll be a few minutes behind you.” Charlotte took another bite of her toast.

“All right.” Aubrey turned to leave, making her way down the hall to her mother’s room.

“Oh, my dear, I’m so glad you’re here!” Her mother came toward her with a handful of books. “Would you mind returning this to his lordship’s library? Bitsy is too busy packing and I haven’t seen another servant.”

“Of course.” Aubrey looked toward the bed where Bitsy was carefully folding clothes. Apparently, her mother was behind schedule. No doubt she fell back asleep after Charlotte had spoken with her. “Is there anything else I can do to help?”

“No, no. Just take these books directly to the library.” Her mother seemed a bit brisk, but Aubrey didn’t mind. It was a small task that she could do to help her mother get out the door sooner.

Books in hand, Aubrey quickly made her way to the library. Fortunately, the house was quiet. With any luck, she would accomplish her task without anyone seeing her. She had no desire to converse with anyone. She didn’t think she could manage the polite façade that was necessary.

Cracking open the library door, Aubrey was relieved to hear silence. Shoulders slumping, she thanked her good fortune for the small mercy. Quickly making her way across the plush carpets, she placed the volumes on the restacking shelf. The servants would know the correct place for them.

With any luck, she would be able to make her way back to her room without being disturbed.

“Aubrey.”

She closed her eyes at hearing the deep voice. The longing that shot through her was overwhelming, all consuming. She wasn’t strong enough to fight the effect his voice had on her. It was too soon, it was too much. “Go away, Bradford.” She pinched the bridge of her nose, unwilling to look at him.

“No.” He moved to stand beside her, but was wise enough not to touch her. “We need to talk.”

“There is nothing to talk about.”

“You can’t truly believe that I invited Lady Victoria to my room.” Frustration was infused into each of his words.

“It’s really none of my business.”

With a step toward her, his hands came up to grip her arms gently. “Yes, it is. I only asked you to come to me. I only want you, Aubrey.”

“It didn’t look that way.”

She could see him nod out of the corner of her eye. “I know. I don’t know how Lady Victoria found out, but she knew about us. She knew about the masquerade.”

A small shock surged through her, and she finally looked up at him. “How?”

He shrugged. “I can only guess that she overheard us on the terrace that first night.” He seemed to debate something then continued on. “She pretended to be you at the masquerade the other night.”

Her mouth fell open.

“She also came upon me after you had fled up the stairs. She must have heard you agree to meet me.”

Could it truly be as simple as that? Lady Victoria was certainly capable of such a despicable act. But Aubrey wasn’t ready to fully believe yet. Her heart was vulnerable to him, and she never wanted to feel that kind of pain again.

“What do you want from me?” she finally whispered.

He was silent, and she felt him will her to look at him. “I want you, Aubrey. For myself. From now on. I want to be with you.”

Her heart leaped at his words. “Not the masquerade woman?”

When he shook his head, her heart plummeted again. “I want you both.” He took her hands in his. “Don’t you see, I love both parts of you. The outgoing beauty of the masquerade lady caught my eye, but your humor and friendship were what caught my heart.” His eyes bore into hers, effectively cutting off any doubts. “I love you, Aubrey. I always will.”

His declaration was like a soft caress to her soul. She could feel his love for her radiating from him into her. He loved her.

Moving slowly, he knelt down in front of her, still holding both of her hands. “Marry me, Aubrey, my masquerade woman. I love you with all my heart, and there will never be anyone but you. I want to see you every morning when I wake up, I want to hold you in my arms as storms rage outside, and I want to have a family with you.”

Tears pricked her eyes as she looked at the man she loved. Her heart overflowed with the tenderness that she saw in his eyes, knowing that he meant every word.

“I love you too.” The joy that lit his face made her laugh in pure happiness. “Yes, I’ll marry you.”

More happy than he could express, he let out a shout of joy and stood, lifting her into his arms. He kissed her with all the love and longing he felt, and she felt the truth of all of it deep in her soul.

Her heart answered his, pouring her love into the kiss, her fingers running into his hair at the base of his neck.

“You don’t know how I have wanted you,” he finally said, reluctantly ending the kiss.

She laughed, feeling free. “I think I have some idea.”

“Let’s get married this week.”

She laughed again. “If you can convince my mother of that, then I agree. However, I must warn you that she will want a large wedding, with time to prepare for it.” She laughed again, her arms still around his neck. “You have your work cut out for you.”

“It’s already been arranged.” He laughed when her mouth fell open again. “I met with your parents this morning and told them that I had fallen in love with you and that I intended to marry you. You don’t honestly think your mother had no one else to bring the books down?”

She laughed with the joy that burned from her heart. “Now that I think about it, it does sound strange.”

Locked into each other’s arms, they whispered words of love and their hopes for the future. From this moment on, they would never part, and that knowledge filled her pure joy.

This was the beginning of their lives together, and she relished every moment of it.

*****

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