Once Upon a Masquerade (4 page)

Miss Bailey straightened. “Is she ill or very old?”

“No, simply determined.” They sauntered back into the hall and entered a library with plush leather chairs and a long sofa positioned near the hearth. Bookshelves lined all four walls, hundreds of volumes waiting to be read. Miss Bailey stopped, her mouth agape. “What a magnificent room.” She twirled about, her skirts billowing around her. “I could stay here for the rest of my days and be happy.” When she ceased spinning, she swayed to and fro. “Oh, my.”

With low chuckle, he steadied her, his hands resting at her waist. “You don’t drink much do you?”

“Never before,” she confessed with a small giggle.

He pulled his hands away, and she glanced down as if first realizing he’d touched her. Her face pinkened sweetly, and she raised her gaze, but only got so far as his chest.

Leaning toward him, she studied the lucky coin he wore on a chain about his neck. “What a unique charm,” she breathed, reaching out to touch the ancient metal.

He drank his fill of her delicate cheekbones and striking eyes. “I’m told it’s a rare coin from China, said to ward against evil.”

Her stare rose to his. “Are you superstitious?”

Although he’d never thought so, he wore the amulet everywhere. He shrugged, admitting, “I am a sailor.”

Miss Bailey worried her lip and studied his face. Her attention settling on his mouth, he wondered what she would do next.

He didn’t have long to wait. His lips twitched as her eyelids drooped heavily, and she tilted her head up to his, her look almost dazed. “Are you well? You appear as though you may faint.”

Raising one eyelid, she maintained her silly position, admitting through semi-pursed lips, “I’m enticing you to give me a kiss.”

A laugh rose up, but he held it back. “I see.” What an unusual but most delightful woman. His coin was lucky indeed. “I suppose I am a pirate and I’ve cornered a captivating damsel alone and intoxicated.”

Christopher glanced at the empty doorway, where a large potted plant shielded them from sight, and questioned the sanity of what he longed to do. If caught, her reputation would be sorely compromised. What’s more, she’d been Nathan’s love. Despite the year that had passed, he should honor that relationship. He should, and he would.

He stared down at her upturned face, delicate, alluring. She waited, utterly unconcerned by the open door. He liked that she was so different from the other ladies of the
bon ton
, different from Adele. Miss Bailey’s free spirit, so open and real, appealed to him like no other. Her pale pink lips tempted him to no end. Her scent, cloves and warm woman, wrapped around him, drawing him in, making his blood pump faster and his mind slow.

Would she taste as good as she smelled? Without thought, he cradled her face in his hands, the silky softness of her hair teasing his fingertips. He lowered his head, sampled her lips, and was lost.

He drank in the sweet warmth she offered, greedy for more as she let out a long quavering breath and relaxed into him. Her arms crept up his chest, the duster clutched in her hand. The feathers tickled his ear. He tugged it from her grasp and tossed it to a nearby sofa.

A thought surfaced from the depths of his mind.
Have to stop.
But it evaporated as his fingers grazed the soft skin at her nape, and he claimed her lips once more.

Desire spread through his body as powerful as the rising tide. She felt so good, her curves pressed against him. He pulled her closer, reveling in her eager response. “I’d like to see you again. Where can I find you?”

Her eyes closed, she answered shakily, “The Endicotts’.”

He trailed light kisses along her jaw to her ear, enjoying the glow of her skin. A full minute passed before her reply registered in his muddled brain, and the realization of what he’d been doing hit hard. He set her away from him and bit back a curse. Nathan had asked him to protect her, not to make advances. And if he were any kind of friend, he would respect Nathan’s memory and… Her response to his question sank in. “The Endicotts? They’ve returned from Chicago already?”

Miss Bailey stiffened and turned away. “No, they haven’t.”

Her strong reaction to his innocent comment only fueled his interest. “You’re a guest at their home while they’re in Chicago?”

Her hands clenched the folds of her skirt, her gaze glued to the floor. “My father’s letter must have arrived shortly after they left. When I got here, they were already gone.” With a frown, she explained, “Luckily, one of their staff had been left responsible for forwarding correspondence and was aware of my pending arrival.”

For some reason, it struck him that she’d only referred to her own arrival. “You traveled alone?”

She backed away, her face ashen. “Of course not. I came with my brother, Stephen, and my lady’s maid.”

“You and your brother are staying at the Endicotts’ home until they return?” he asked, puzzled by both her situation and her obvious unease.

“No, my father left for business the same time I…we started our journey. He’ll be meeting us here once his negotiations are concluded. We need to stay until he arrives or there will be even more confusion.”

A note of desperation raised the pitch of her voice, and she lifted a trembling hand to her forehead. “I’m afraid it’s getting late, and I’m dreadfully tired. Please excuse me. I must find my brother.” She hurried to the doorway but stopped short of stepping through. A flash of sadness and disappointment crossed her face when she glanced back. “Good night,” she said before she slipped away from him.

“Good night,” he muttered. “Until we meet again.”

Chapter Four

REBECCA HAD TOSSED AND turned all night long. Had her charade been a success? She wasn’t sure, although her meeting with Mr. Westerly today held promise. Still, it had been her memory of Christopher Black that kept her awake for most of the night.

Stifling a yawn with a gloved hand, she walked up Fifth Avenue to Central Park, the air crisp and the sky dim. She’d blame the champagne for her foolish decision to dine with him, but it would be lie. She’d been drawn to him from the first. He’d been devilishly handsome as a rakish pirate and more charming than she’d imagined in her dreams. And after her initial nervousness, she’d truly enjoyed herself. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been in such high spirits. He’d been attentive, obviously loved and respected his parents, had a passion for sailing…and his kisses…

Touching a fingertip to her lips, she could still feel his firm mouth against hers, his strong body holding her close. He’d overwhelmed her senses, turning her mind to mush. What other reason could there be for her stupidity? She never should have mentioned the Endicott household. And the lies. Dear Lord, how many had she told him? She nearly groaned at the memory. What else could she have done? He was an intelligent man, an inquisitive man, and she had no doubt he would eventually remember her as the maid who scalded his lap. She would avoid him from this point forward.

The bleak overcast sky matched her dreary mood. Maybe this was for the best. She would put thoughts of Christopher Black behind her and concentrate more fully on her goal. Her father needed her, and she would do what had to be done, because as the dutiful daughter, she
always
did what had to be done.

The plumed hat she clutched in one hand and her mother’s most fashionable walking dress were safely hidden beneath a borrowed black cloak. While strolling about the city unchaperoned was acceptable as a servant, for a respectable lady it could be considered quite scandalous.

Heading to her favorite spot, she descended the steps to the Bethesda Fountain and the life-size bronze statue, the Angel of the Waters. She inhaled deeply to ease the tension in her shoulders. Staring up at the angel, she pulled the silver locket her mother had given her from beneath the cloak. She caressed the intricate etchings on its surface, then turned the oval pendant to the back and the inscription
Give All to Love
. She’d hidden it from her father all these years, reasoning the piece was relatively inexpensive. Although deep inside, she knew even if the locket had been made of pure gold, she wouldn’t have parted with it.

“Acquainting yourself with the city all on your own?”

A giddy thrill swept through her limbs as she recognized the voice. She turned toward the sound, startled to find Mr. Black standing atop the steps leading down to the fountain. In a dark gray coat and top hat, he appeared every bit a gentleman, but his intense hazel eyes and chiseled jaw belonged to the pirate she’d so brazenly kissed the night before. As he lifted his hat in greeting, she stood speechless, desperately trying to suppress the elation dancing inside her belly.

He descended the steps with a friendly grin. “Had I known you were in need of a guide, I would have offered my services.”

She turned away, forcing herself to remember her vow to avoid him. “I wanted to find a place to think.”

“I was going to drop this at the Endicotts’ before I spotted you walking in this direction.” He handed her the duster she’d left behind in her haste to escape the Vanderbilt library. “I must apologize for my rudeness. I didn’t intend to offend you with my incessant questions. Curiosity ruled my better judgment.”

“It’s all right.” She battled with her own better judgment as she struggled to keep her defenses from crumbling.

Mr. Black glanced about, taking in the flowing fountain, the expansive lawns, and the serene lake. “This does seem like a good place to think.”

Clearly he wasn’t going to leave, although she couldn’t understand why he remained. She could hold her silence and ignore his presence, but that didn’t seem right. After all, he’d come to apologize. She released a breath. “I’ve always loved this place, this statue.”

“I thought you said you were unfamiliar with New York.”

She cocked one brow. It truly was in his nature to question everything.

His lips curved in a slow smile. “You don’t have to answer that.”

Although he teased, for once she could tell him a bit of truth about herself. “I confess I’ve visited here before. In fact, I remember when this park was first completed. My father brought me here.”

“That was quite some time ago.”

“Yes. I think I was eleven years old. My mother had passed away the prior year. I remember walking through the park and coming to this very spot. I looked up at the angel and told my father that Mother was here, and she looked beautiful.”

“What did he say?” His smooth voice relaxed her, her troubles fading for the moment.

“Nothing.” She stared out along the lake shore. “I don’t think he ever came back here after that. My mother’s death weighed heavily on him. It still does.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. I find every time I come here, I feel her presence. It’s very comforting.”

Mr. Black studied the winged figure, his profile as handsome as the rest of him.

“I think she would have liked you.”

A corner of his mouth raised in a half-grin. “Oh? Why is that?”

“Because
I
do.” The words had tumbled out before she thought to stop them. She jerked away from his warm gaze, shocked by her own brazenness. Whatever happened to her plan of sending him away? That was her ultimate goal, or at least she thought it was.

She still held the stylish hat she’d brought along for her outing with Mr. Westerly. Setting it on her head, she began pinning it. A proper lady would have never been out without one in its rightful place. She smiled sheepishly. “It blew off moments before you arrived.”

Mr. Black’s sidelong glance questioned her words. The calm breeze barely stirred the leaves.

“It was much windier earlier in the day.” She wondered at the ease the lies slipped off her tongue.

“I hadn’t noticed.” Mr. Black watched her struggle to affix the large hat.

She wished Mary was there to help her. She’d left a note asking her to act as chaperone for her ride with Mr. Westerly. Without the Endicott family in residence, Mary enjoyed the freedom of sleeping much later than usual. God only knew when she would arrive. Then again, she was supposed to be sick in Hazel’s eyes.

Blast, how she hated lying to Hazel, insisting that family problems were the cause of all these outings. Which was largely true, but repeatedly slipping out of the house dressed like this…

The stubborn stickpin dropped to the ground when she attempted to pierce the thick material. Mr. Black retrieved it and stilled her trembling hands, then pressed the pin through the fabric. “Is something troubling you?”

She adjusted the pin from where he’d placed it as if well practiced at the art, and the corners of his eyes crinkled. Her pulse skipped a beat. She must look like a child playing dress up, as clumsy as she was with the oversized thing. She scanned the greens behind her, anxious to be away before she said or did anything else unseemly. “My maid has wandered off. I wonder if I should search her out.”

Already a few people had begun to mill about the park. Given his penchant for pointing out her every blunder, she was surprised he hadn’t mentioned her lack of chaperone. “We’re planning to go coaching with Philip Westerly at midday.”

A slight frown marred his features. “Permit me to help you find her.”

She allowed him to lead her back up the steps, unable to think of a reasonable excuse to decline his offer. “Do you know Mr. Westerly?”

“Not well. He moved to New York just before the season began in the fall.”

The curt tone of his reply confirmed her suspicions. “You don’t care for him.”

“No, I don’t.” His features hardened. “He strikes me as an opportunist. Somehow, he manages to take advantage of any situation.”

His eyes smoldered into hers. With jealousy? Was it Mr. Westerly or her outing with Mr. Westerly that bothered him? The idea frightened and thrilled her. “You said yourself you don’t know him all that well.”

“I’m a quick judge of character.”

“Is that so? Have you judged my character as well?”

“Of course.” Although his voice teased, his features held no humor. “You’re different from the other ladies of the
bon
ton
.”

“How so?” she asked, dreading his answer.

“Most society ladies are cool and aloof. You’re carefree, vibrant.”

“Is that good?”

“Some might disagree, but I think so.”

Shimmery warmth filled her chest. She tried to tamp down the unfamiliar feeling. It would only lead to trouble.

“There’s a shyness about you, as if you’re trying to hide something from everyone. Or just from me.” He peered down into her face, his eyes searching, curious. “You are an exceedingly beautiful mystery, one that intrigues me and one that I plan to solve.”

A jolt of panic seared through her. He was too observant by far. How long could she last before he saw through her charade?

She picked up her pace, and her foot snagged on a rock nestled in the grass. Her breath caught as she fell forward. Strong arms encircled her and drew her back. Excitement pulsed within her when she came up against his solid chest. A part of her relished his embrace and the illusion of being protected and safe. But that’s all it was. An illusion.

She straightened, her heart stumbling over itself. “You’re wrong. There’s no mystery to solve.” Seizing the cumbersome hat that had pitched to the side, she worked to set it aright, finding it no easier than the last time she’d tried.

He handed her the feather duster that had dropped to the ground and adjusted the pins, easily securing the hat. His hand brushed her cheek, and his gaze locked with hers. “I think there is.”

Her skin tingled, distracting her from the panic that threatened to consume her. She prayed for divine intervention.

To her relief, she spied Mary making her way toward them. Not an angel from heaven, but she would do. “Mary, please don’t wander off like that again. We’ve been searching everywhere for you,” she scolded, sending her a meaningful look.

With a sparkle in her eye, Mary played along, “I’m so sorry, miss. Please forgive me.”

“No harm done.” Rebecca turned to Mr. Black, ready to send him on his way. “Thank you for keeping me company while I waited for Mary to return.”

A pleased grin softened his features. Clearly, he was aware of her intent to be rid of him, and was amused by it all the same. “My pleasure.” The low timbre of his voice grazed over her flesh as sure as a gentle touch. “Good day, Miss Bailey.”

“Good day,” Rebecca whispered as he strode off.

“He’s a handsome devil,” Mary said once he was out of hearing range.

“Yes, he is.” She continued to stare, confused by the sense of loss that weighed her down. “But it would be best to stay clear of him,” she said as much to herself as to Mary, tearing her eyes away from his broad back.

“What? Why would you do that?”

She stroked the fine feathers of her duster. “He’s already suspicious. I have no doubt he’ll soon remember me from his visit with Miss Endicott.”

“You don’t know that. Most gentlemen wouldn’t remember the name or face of a servant girl if she stood before him naked.”

“He isn’t like most men.”

“I see,” Mary muttered knowingly. “Still, last night must have gone fairly well if you already have plans with… Who did you say?”

“Mr. Westerly. And yes, I had a wonderful time. You can’t imagine what it was like, truly amazing, like a dream.” The image of a charming pirate clouded her mind. Forcing the thought away, she scanned the lawns, trying hard to focus on today’s outing. “Mr. Westerly should be coming any time now…” She spied him some distance off in a plum suit.

“What is it?”

“I see Mr. Westerly. He’s speaking with Mr. Black.” What could they be talking about? If Mr. Black disliked Philip Westerly as much as he said, one would think he’d avoid him. Yet, the two men appeared to be talking amicably, even shaking hands as they parted ways. “Here he comes.” Rebecca turned to Mary and clenched her hands together. “How do I look?”

Mary nodded. “Good, good.”

“Miss Bailey, how nice to see you again,” Mr. Westerly said as he approached.

“Hello.”

“I’m sorry I left you waiting. I ran into an acquaintance of mine, Christopher Black. He’s invited us both to dinner and the opera later this evening, if you’re interested. Are you free?”

Rebecca swallowed past the sudden tightness in her throat. “I’d love to.” If it meant more time with Mr. Westerly, she’d gladly come along. She needed to save her father. Yes, this was her chance to save him. Which perfectly explained the anticipation blooming in her chest.

…

Outside the Endicotts’ home, Christopher waited in the carriage for Westerly’s return, his gaze fixed on the door although he looked at nothing in particular.

His cousin leaned toward him. “I can’t wait to meet this woman who’s caught your eye.”

He met Kimberly’s amused stare. “She hasn’t caught my eye.” He’d arranged this evening to gain Miss Bailey’s trust and to watch over her. Now that he knew she was the one Nathan spoke of, he had a duty to keep her safe…at least until he determined whether she was already safe on her own.

The carriage door swung open far sooner than he would have suspected, and Miss Bailey stepped inside. He drank in her curly auburn hair, pert nose, and shapely lips like he’d been dying of thirst.

She took a seat on the open bench across from him and busied herself with adjusting her skirts. After thoroughly completing the task, she cast him a furtive glance, before her attention slid to the woman seated beside him.

Westerly joined Miss Bailey on the bench and made the necessary introductions. “Miss Bailey, may I present Miss Kimberly Ives and, of course, Christopher Black.”

Kimberly greeted Miss Bailey, and he thanked the heavens she’d agreed to join him on such short notice. His cousin hadn’t appreciated his impromptu invitation, and initially declined his offer, but she relented once she’d decided he’d fallen in love. Typical Kimberly.