Dangerous Masquerade Read online

  Reluctantly feeling the need to come up with some explanation, she added, “It is my first time.”

  “Your first time? Was that why you were hiding behind the statue?”

  She frowned. He had seen her? Was he the reason she had felt she was being watched?

  When she nodded, he smiled. “Then, my Lady Persephone, allow me to be your protector and tutor. I would be delighted to initiate you into the delights of the earl’s bacchanal.”

  Without waiting for a response, he took her arm and led her from the antechamber. Any doubts about what lay ahead flew from Ria’s mind when he touched the bare skin of her arm. Underneath her skin, sparks began to dance. She meekly went with him, distracted by the feelings generated by his touch.

  As they entered the ballroom, the musicians struck up a waltz. Her protector placed his hand in the center of her back and pulled her toward him. She inhaled sharply as the sparks traveled up her arm and down her back.

  Putting her hand on his shoulder, she was surprised to feel hard muscle. Obviously there was more to him than his well-cut clothes and casual elegance conveyed.

  It occurred to her that, although he did not wear a costume, anyone watching them would assume they were a pair. She was Persephone to his black-clothed Hades.

  She looked at the other couples. The men all held the ladies they danced with close, some openly caressing their partners on the dance floor. No wonder the aunts were scandalized when Monty insisted she learn to waltz. And why many in England thought it immoral.

  They started to dance, their bodies fitting together perfectly, their steps in tune. As they moved, the subtle aroma of his citrus cologne enveloped her, a refreshing counter to the cloying scent of hothouse flowers and women’s perfume. His hand resting on her back began to make small circles. Each caress of his fingers caused more sparks to flare and dance.

  The waltz was definitely, deliciously immoral.

  As Hades whirled her around the room, she repressed all thoughts of propriety and gave herself up to her feelings and the intoxication of dancing within a circle of strong arms. His arms. At last.

  So deep was her trance she lost all sense of time and the number of dances. They did not talk—just danced until the music stopped.

  Taking deep breaths, she fanned herself in an effort to cool down. Although the windows were open, the chill winter air did little to dispel the heat generated by the press of people in the ballroom. Though it wasn’t just the heat in the room causing her to feel warm. The heat came from within, from those sparks, dancing and sizzling under her skin.

  Ria became aware that Hades was watching her bust rise and fall with each breath she took. As she bit her lip, his intent gaze shifted to her mouth.

  Abruptly he asked, “Have we met before?”

  This was dangerous territory. Prevaricating, she replied, “Do you think perhaps in hell, my lord Hades?”

  “Do you mean in a hell?”

  “No,” she replied.

  So he frequented gambling hells, did he? She quashed her feeling of disappointment. He was an adult male, a member of the ton. Of course he did. But what else did he do? What had shaped him into the man who stood before her? She’d never know. She rubbed her chest, trying to alleviate the stabbing pain in her breast.

  His gaze followed the path of her hand as he took a step closer. “I’m sure I’d recall if we’d danced together before, but just to be sure, have we?”

  “No.”

  At his look of frustration, she couldn’t help but smile.

  He looked into her eyes as he said, “You don’t believe in making conversation, do you?”

  Ria shook her head.

  He gave a quick laugh that turned into a broad smile. With a shock she realized it was the first natural, honest smile he’d given her. She gathered her distracted wits about her as he asked another question.

  “Have I met you in the company of others?”

  He was so close now she could once again feel the heat from his body. “Yes.”

  “Is this a game?”

  She smiled sweetly. “Yes.”

  “Have we played with one another before?” Light danced within the dark green of his eyes.

  “Yes.”

  At her positive response, his smile disappeared and his gaze sharpened. “Surely we haven’t made love. I’d remember.”

  She paused before answering. “Is that a question?”

  He swiftly nodded.

  “No.”

  He frowned. “So we’ve played with one another but not made love.”

  As he hadn’t asked a direct question, she remained silent. He was right; it was a game she was playing but, unbeknownst to him, a risky one.

  “I find that hard to believe. How could I see you, play with you and not have you?” He paused then asked, “Are you married?”

  He was now in perilous waters. Thankfully, before she could reply, he followed up his question with another she could safely answer. “Do you belong to anyone?”

  He thought she was someone’s mistress? Of course he would, given where she was.

  “No.”

  His eyes, now so dark as to be almost black, locked on hers, and she was unable to look away as he said, “You know that you do now, don’t you?”

  Oh my. Warmth invaded her body, and the sparks centered themselves between her legs. Once again she fanned herself, though this time flirtation was not her intent. She needed to cool down lest she faint.

  Her lips parted, but she couldn’t speak. Desperately wishing it was true, she could only nod.

  She barely heard the announcement that supper was being served.

  Hades, his voice husky, asked, “Would you care for refreshment?”

  Still speechless, she nodded again.

  Once again he took her arm, but this time he led her down a corridor. Unlocking a door, he turned and invited her into what she realized was an empty sitting room dimly lit by a few beeswax candles and a fire flickering in the fireplace, the light reflected in the glossy pale green marble surround.

  On a small table next to an elegant Grecian couch, she could see a platter of delicacies, two wineglasses, and a bucket holding champagne. It was a scene set for seduction.

  The glass wall behind which her anxiety cowered lowered slightly, allowing a flutter of nervousness to escape.

  She thought about not going through with this. But he was the one. Her only. And this was her last chance.

  Taking a deep breath and hiding her trembling hands in the folds of her gown, Ria stepped over the threshold.

  2

  Little Bridgeton, December 1813

  Mrs. Honoria Ruby St. James watched from the morning room window of St. James Manor as three gentlemen strode toward the front door. A strong wind whistled around the corner of the house and tugged at their black greatcoats, pulling them back from their shoulders and spreading them wide like wings so they resembled large black birds.

  Vultures.

  Ria let the heavy blue brocade curtain fall back into place and turned from the window. Straightening her shoulders, she took a deep breath. This was her last obstacle. She just had to get through this, and then they would be safe.

  The gentleman watching her from the chair drawn up near the blue and white marble fireplace gave a nod of approval. “That’s my girl, Ria. Don’t let them get to you. Especially my nephew.”

  At his words, a faint smile fleetingly crossed her face. “I won’t. Thanks to you, at least we have warning of why they are here.” With a questioning look, she added, “You never explained how you knew what Geoffrey was trying to do.”

  “I’ve kept an eye on him. I knew he expected to inherit the St. James estate—his mother told him often enough how rich he was going to be. So I’ve regularly visited Old Farm, hoping to learn something useful.”

  Ria frowned. “I didn’t realize you could go there.”

  Monty stood up as he answered her. “I don’t spend all my time here, you know. I used to
spend a lot of time there in my younger days. My brother and I were very close, so it was like my second home.” With a wry grin he added, “You could say I haunted the place.”

  Before she could find out more, the morning room door opened. Her butler’s normally serene countenance had a decidedly stony look to it.

  “Mr. Geoffrey Danielson has arrived, madam, and wishes to see you. I’ve shown him into the drawing room.”

  She could have sworn Flowerday’s upper lip curled as he said Geoffrey’s name.

  “Thank you.”

  She looked in the direction of the hearth for reassurance.

  Monty smiled at her. “I’ll be with you the whole time. Don’t worry.”

  Her fingers trembled as she smoothed her black bombazine skirts then, straightening her shoulders once again, left the room. Monty followed close behind.

  As they entered the drawing room, Mr. Geoffrey James Danielson was sprawled in a lilac velvet-covered chair, casting what could only be described as a propriety eye over the room. His gaze encompassed everything from the delicately painted ivory walls, gilded friezes, and ceiling medallions to the rosewood furniture, silver candelabra, and porcelain figurines.

  Someone who did not know him could be forgiven for thinking a thin-lipped cherub had decided to grace the drawing room with his presence—a twenty-three-year-old cherub with a taste for fashion, as shown by his intricately tied cravat, high pointed collar, and shiny Hessian boots.

  Unlike the other gentlemen in the room, he didn’t immediately stand as Ria entered. He merely looked at her, his thin lips curved in a sly smile. Then, after a long pause, he indolently stood up, stretching his elegant form as he did so. His whole manner was an insult.

  As it was obvious he wasn’t going to introduce her to the other men present, she looked at them. After a pause, the older of the two spoke.

  “Madam, my name is Dr. Haines, and this is Mr. Danielson’s solicitor, Mr. Reginald Smythe.”

  “Good morning, gentlemen. How may I help you today?”

  The two men looked at each other then at Geoffrey.

  “They are here, my dear Honoria,” he drawled, “at my request. I have petitioned the courts to have my dear departed late uncle’s will overturned.”

  At his words, the other two gentlemen looked at her. Ria had the distinct impression she was supposed to swoon. She assumed she looked convincingly surprised and horrified as they seemed satisfied with her reaction.

  She kept her response simple. “On what grounds? The estate was not entailed, so my husband could leave it to whomever he wished.” She was pleased her voice was calm and firm.

  At this Geoffrey smiled. “Ah, but he left his estate to his wife, and you were not legally my uncle’s wife.” He then dramatically added in a lowered tone, “The marriage was not consummated!”

  She had known what Geoffrey was about to say, but even so, hearing him actually say it caused her stomach to roll. She swallowed hard against the rising tide of nausea. Placing her hand over her stomach, Ria told herself, You just have to get through the next hour. Then it will be over.

  After taking a moment to compose herself, she answered him. “That’s ridiculous. What evidence could you possibly have to support that assertion?”

  “I have a reliable witness. As for it being ridiculous, we shall soon see.” In the best tradition of villains, he paused for effect, then with relish told her, “Dr. Haines is here to examine you.”

  At his words, the other two gentlemen again looked at Ria. Knowing she needed to show some sign of emotion, she felt for the chair behind her and collapsed into it. She was only half acting. The moment she had dreaded was now upon her. Just get through the next hour, she told herself yet again, then everything will be fine. We will all be safe.

  Geoffrey continued, “Smythe has the court papers. You may examine them if you wish, but you cannot delay the examination. They specify it must take place on the day you are advised.”

  Mr. Smythe walked over to Ria and timidly handed her the papers.

  She took them, annoyed to see her hand shake slightly. Hopefully Geoffrey had not noticed. The thought of showing such weakness in front of him made her feel even more ill.

  She stared at the papers. She knew what they would say. Knew Geoffrey told the truth. But in the vain hope there was something within them she could use to prevent the invasive physical examination, she carefully scrutinized them.

  There was nothing.

  Her throat tight, she stood. Disdainfully ignoring Geoffrey, she turned to Dr. Haines and said, “I shall retire to my bedroom, Doctor. When I am ready, my maid will come down to you.”

  Gravely Dr. Haines nodded.

  Head held high, Ria left the room—pleased her trembling legs could still carry her.

  Monty did not follow Ria or, later, the doctor; instead, he remained in the drawing room and kept an eye on Geoffrey. The young man prowled around the room, looking at the oil paintings in their gilt frames, picking up porcelain figures and vases, presumably trying to judge their worth.

  With a sigh, Geoffrey sprawled once again on a sofa. Addressing no one in particular, he said petulantly, “What the devil is taking so long?”

  Just then, the door opened.

  Geoffrey hastily stood when Dr. Haines entered the drawing room. Giving the doctor no time to say anything, he demanded, “Well, is it as I thought?”

  Dr. Haines frowned. “I would prefer to wait until Mrs. St. James joins us.”

  “I’m paying your account. You answer to me! I insist you give me the results immediately!”

  To Monty’s intense satisfaction, the doctor remained firm. “As I said, we will wait until Mrs. St. James is here.”

  About to argue further, Geoffrey shut his mouth and sank back into his chair at a repressing look from his solicitor. He contented himself with alternating between looking sulky and casting daggerlike glances at the doctor.

  Finally the door to the drawing room once again opened, and Ria swept into the room. She looked to Monty—who was admittedly biased—composed and every inch the lady.

  Ria sat on the first chair she came to, giving an inaudible sigh of relief that her legs had managed to carry her this far. The last thing she needed to do was collapse in a heap in front of Geoffrey. That would heap further humiliation upon humiliation.

  Monty silently took up his post behind her. Her protector. Her confidant. Her friend.

  Willing her hands not to shake, she smoothed down the front of her skirts, lifted her chin, and looked at the doctor.

  Taking this as a signal, he cleared his throat. After a nod in her direction, he turned to Geoffrey, his expression grave. “Sir, after my examination of Mrs. St. James, I can categorically say your accusation has no foundation. Mrs. St. James is not a virgin.”

  At his words, Ria exhaled the breath she had been holding. She watched in fascination as Geoffrey’s face turned white then red.

  “That’s not possible!” he choked out. “Their marriage was not consummated. It wasn’t. It can’t have been. I don’t believe it.” As he spoke, his voice rose in pitch until the last sentence was delivered at a shrill scream.

  The doctor’s countenance became rigid. “Are you saying I am lying, sir? Or perhaps that I am merely incompetent?”

  Reginald Smythe diffidently touched his client’s sleeve. “Please, sir. The doctor has given his verdict. You must accept it.”

  His face white, Geoffrey roughly shook his solicitor’s hand off. As he did so, a piece of paper fell out of his coat and floated unnoticed onto the floor.

  “No! I’ll get another doctor! I’ll get a hundred doctors. I don’t care how many it takes, I’ll—”

  His solicitor interrupted him. “Sir, the courts gave permission for this examination, but only this one. They would never agree to another. You will have to accept that Mrs. St. James is your uncle’s legal heir, and as the estate was not entailed, his will stands. She inherits everything.”

  “Rubb
ish! Do you think I’ll stand for that! His estate is mine. It’s always been mine. I’ll—”

  The loud tinkling of a bell interrupted his tirade. In immediate answer to Ria’s summons, Flowerday entered the drawing room. Through the open door behind the butler, two tall footmen and the hall boy could clearly be seen.

  Ria stood. “Mr. Danielson will be leaving now. Thank you, Flowerday.”

  Geoffrey rounded on her. She recoiled at the look on his face as he said, “You bitch. I don’t know how you did it, but I know I’m right. I’ll get you. I’ll show the world what a scheming, devious—”

  It wasn’t the protestations of the doctor and the solicitor that made Geoffrey abruptly stop. It was the sight of Flowerday and the two large footmen entering the room.

  From the looks on their faces, it was evident to everyone that if Geoffrey did not go willingly they would happily, and no doubt unceremoniously, toss him out.

  As the servants quickly flanked him, Geoffrey, with a final glare that encompassed everyone there, stormed from the room.

  All the room’s occupants breathed a sigh of relief when they heard the front door close.

  After an awkward pause, the solicitor turned to Dr. Haines. “I appear to be without the means of getting back to London. Might I trouble you for a ride, either to London or to a livery station so I might hire a coach?”

  “Of course. I’m returning to London and would be happy for you to accompany me.”

  As they both turned to Mrs. St. James to bid farewell, she graciously asked, “Would you like some refreshments before you begin your journey?”

  Embarrassment made both hastily decline her offer.

  Ria watched from the morning room window as the second carriage swept down the drive and disappeared. She only turned from the window when there was a knock on the door.

  Flowerday entered, carrying a piece of paper on a tray. “Excuse me, madam, but we found this on the floor of the drawing room.”

  As Flowerday left, Ria unfolded the paper. It was titled St. James Estate and confirmed her worst fears.