Match For Melissa (9 page)

Melissa drew a deep shuddering breath and stepped out of the alcove into the corridor. There was no one else in sight and for that fortunate circumstance, she was most grateful. If someone should suddenly appear to ask her what was amiss, she would be sorely at a loss for words. Realizing that she had so recently been in the arms of the gentleman of her dreams had left her senses reeling.

Once she had returned Regina’s cloak, Melissa returned to the chamber she had so hastily vacated. She glanced once more at the balcony and reached up to touch her lips. He had been about to kiss her, she was certain of it, and now that the moment had passed, Melissa found herself wishing that she had remained in his arms. Two strangers, sharing a stolen moment of bliss, never to discover each other’s identities.

It was at this exact moment that a distressing possibility occurred to Melissa. What if her handsome stranger should describe her features and make inquiries about her? It would be a source of many an
on-dit,
should she be identified as Lady Harrington’s maid! Jane would be certain to hear of it and Melissa should be confined to the house for the remainder of the Season to insure that she would never have the opportunity to behave so improperly again!

Melissa quickly pushed these concerns aside and forced herself to view the situation with a rational bent. If she had not observed his features in the light of the corridor, she would not
have recognized his countenance. He had not enjoyed that advantage. The balcony had been in darkness and he had caught no glimpse of her face. And when she had fled through the lighted chamber to the corridor, he had viewed only her back. Melissa was certain that he was in total ignorance of her appearance. He could not describe her, and the secret of her identity was secure.

After a quick glance in the mirror to make certain that her dress and hair were tidy, Melissa left the chamber to seek out Mrs. Collins. To her immense relief, she encountered no guests as she took her leave and soon she was again seated in Lady Beckworth’s carriage, riding through the streets with a large hamper at her side.

Melissa arrived at the house in short order and after she had thanked the coachman for carrying her there, she placed the hamper on a table and called for Mary. Mrs. Collins had told her the hamper contained a few delicacies from the party and she had instructed Melissa to open it the moment she arrived at home.

“Oh, miss!” Mary’s eyes were round with delight when Melissa lifted the lid. Inside was a sampling of each and every sweet that had been served at the ball. “I have never seen so many treats before! Begging your pardon, miss, but however did you come by such a feast?”

Melissa laughed gaily. “It seems I have pleased Lady Beckworth’s housekeeper and I have been rewarded for my troubles. Sit down, Mary, and we’ll have a feast of our own. And while we’re indulging our appetites, I shall tell you what you must say if anyone inquires about ‘Lissa,’ Lady Harrington’s abigail.”

There was a pleased smile on the Duchess of Oak wood’s face as she watched her son dance. For one so reluctant to attend Lady Beckworth’s ball, Robert appeared to be enjoying himself immensely. He had stood up for every dance since he had come back to the ball, partnering a different young lady in each.
Though her son had denied that he was in the petticoat line, his mother recognized the symptoms. There was no doubt in her mind that Robert was searching for one particular young lady. And when he found her, he would make her his bride.

Robert’s mother smiled in anticipation of that happy event. To her way of thinking, she had been a prisoner at Oakwood Castle for far too long. It had been very different when Robert’s father was alive. Then she had not minded the winters she had recently come to think of as dreary and isolated. Then their children had filled the castle with laughter and there had been frequent parties of visiting noblemen and their families. Though Oakwood Castle was far from London, it had become a popular place in winter as well as summer and the
haute ton
had eagerly sought invitations. Indeed, there had been very little time when they had been without a houseguest or two as her husband had relished entertaining.

All that had changed when they had laid the seventh Duke of Oakwood to rest in the family plot behind Oakwood Cathedral. As custom dictated, she had been in deep mourning for one full year, wearing black gowns and a somber expression. After that time, she had donned her grays and lavenders and the rigid social strictures had permitted her to once again entertain guests other than family. To her disappointment, she had found that entertaining without her husband was not the same joyful experience it had been while he was alive. House parties had seemed dull and lifeless, the guests more a bother than a welcome diversion, and she had missed her husband’s presence exceedingly. In the quiet moments after the guests had retired for the night, she had rattled around, like a stone in a cask, in chambers that had seemed suddenly empty. It was then that she had vowed to leave Oakwood Castle as soon as her son had taken a wife.

The duchess anticipated her freedom with delight. She would hand over the keys to the new duchess gladly and only return for an occasional visit. Her duty would be done and she would be free to move, not to the dower house to live out her days in a rustic and peaceful environment, but to London where most
of her old friends resided. She would not be lacking in funds. Her husband had settled a generous portion on her, more than ample to meet her needs for the remainder of her life. She would instruct her solicitor to purchase a house situated close to the residence of her old bosom bow, Lady Beckworth, and enter into the social world of London where there were parties and assemblies that would engage her interest and lift her heart.

The duchess turned to observe her daughter who was laughing and conversing with her husband. Lucinda had made a good match. James Trelane had already come into his uncle’s inheritance and had taken his place as a viscount. Trelane Manor was lovely. She had visited there on several occasions and enjoyed herself thoroughly. Though she loved her daughter dearly, and delighted in her grandchildren, she had no intention of seeking to join Lucy’s growing family. She was still a relatively young woman and many pleasurable years remained on her plate. She wished to live them in a place and manner of her choosing. Only one duty remained before she could cut the cords that bound her to Oakwood Castle. She must see that Robert was neatly settled with his bride.

Robert was smiling at the young lady he held in his arms and his mother sighed softly. She was a lovely young woman with an acceptable family, an impeccable manner, and a faultless appearance. The duchess had observed her dancing with several young gentlemen who had been obviously taken with her charms, but Robert did not appear to be so engaged. As she watched, the dance ended and her son escorted the young lady back to her chaperone. He conversed for a moment, observing the proprieties, and then he bowed and took his leave. It had been thus all evening, one polite dance and when it was concluded, Robert had gone on to seek a new partner. It was clear that he had not yet found his match, but the duchess was hopeful that he would be successful before she, along with the evening, grew much older.

There was a pleasant enough smile on Robert’s face, but inwardly he was frowning. It was imperative that he locate the young lady who had so inauspiciously fled from his arms. She was the first young woman that he had been taken with since he had become the eighth Duke of Oakwood. Robert knew he must see her again and learn her identity. This was not a whim or a curiosity that he wished to indulge. It was a compulsion that could not be denied.

When he had reentered the ballroom, Robert had searched in vain for the lady he had come to think of as his Diana. In the beginning, he had hoped that his heart might recognize her and an invisible attraction would pull him inexorably to her side. This had not come to pass. Either she was no longer in attendance at the ball, or his heart was not so cooperative an ally as he had hoped it would be.

Robert had gone on to his second plan. He had held her in his arms on the balcony and he was certain that he would recognize her if he could but hold her again. For this reason, he had danced with every young lady who had made herself available to him, but he had come to the regrettable conclusion that none of them were his Diana.

It was not until the last dance of the ball, when he was again partnering his mother, that he remembered the cloak his Diana had been wearing. It had been distinctive and when she had rushed from the sitting room, he had observed it clearly. This prompted Robert to formulate a new plan, one that could not fail him. He determined to tarry late at the ball so that he could observe the cloak of every young lady who departed.

It was indeed fortunate that Robert had driven to the Beckworth Mansion in his own curricle, leaving his mother’s party to follow in the family coach. After the ball had officially ended, he bid his mother’s party to depart without his escort, claiming that he had met someone with whom he wished further converse, and promising to rejoin them within the hour. When they had safely departed, he took his own leave of Aunt Sarah and ordered his curricle brought round to the entrance.

While Robert was waiting for his curricle, he kept his eyes trained on the parties who departed before him, hoping to spy his Diana in her distinctive cloak. Since neither the cloak nor his Diana had appeared by the time his curricle arrived, Robert wheeled his team of matched bays to a position where he could observe the guests as they left. The flambeaux on either side of the entrance afforded adequate illumination and Robert watched anxiously as a bevy of young ladies, wearing an assortment of cloaks, pelisses and shawls, took leave of their hostess and were handed into their equipages.

Diana’s cloak had been fashioned from gold-colored silk and Robert was on the alert for any cloak of a similar color. As the moments passed, he was astounded at how many ladies of the
ton
favored gold-colored cloaks this Season. Robert carefully scrutinized every one, but none was graced with the rich, multi-colored embroidery that he had observed on his Diana’s cloak.

Robert felt his spirits plummet as the press of guests, waiting for their equipages, began to thin. His vigil was coming to an end and he had not yet found his Diana. He was almost certain that he had not missed her. He had examined every party with close attention and she had not been among them. Either she had left the ball early, or she was still inside the Beckworth Mansion.

Robert held his breath as the last party prepared to depart. His heart began to beat a rapid tattoo in his chest. One of the three ladies who made up the party wore a gold-colored cloak. Was she his Diana? He would not be certain until she had walked past the flambeaux and he had observed the back of her cloak.

Their good-byes were not swift. Robert waited impatiently, tapping his foot against the floorboards of his curricle, as Aunt Sarah conversed at length with one of the ladies. At last their conversation was concluded and all three ladies stepped outside to wait for their carriage to be drawn up to the entrance.

Robert cursed softly. The young lady in the gold cloak was in the front, the two other ladies so close behind her that he
could not see the back of her cloak. He concentrated on the other two ladies, willing them to move to the side so that he would be afforded a glimpse of her back. It seemed to take forever but at last, his wish was granted.

“Diana!” Robert breathed her name like a prayer. The back of her cloak was embroidered in the exact manner he recalled. She was his Diana and he must hurry or she would once again escape him.

Without another thought, Robert jumped down from his curricle, leaving his man to hold the horses, and striding across the drive so rapidly, he almost stumbled in the darkness. He slowed to a walk as he approached their party and arranged a suitable smile of greeting on his countenance. He recognized the elder of the three ladies. Aunt Sarah had made the introduction herself, shortly before the ball had concluded. She was Lady Harrington, widow of Lord Harrington, and he had also been introduced to her daughters. Robert searched his memory, but he found that he could not recall their names.

Though his desire to take his Diana in his arms was so acute as to be almost overpowering, she was not alone. If he failed to observe the proprieties, her reputation with the
ton
would be in jeopardy.

“My apologies, Lady Harrington.” Robert approached her and bowed politely, hoping that his voice did not betray the desperation he felt. “I had intended to speak with you further at the festivities this evening, but the opportunity did not present itself.”

Lady Harrington seemed pleased at his intrusion and she favored him with a smile. “How kind in you to take such notice of us, Duke. I believe you have already made the acquaintance of my daughters, Regina and Dorothea?”

“Yes, indeed I have had that pleasure.” The duke was filled with wonder at learning her name at last and he turned to Regina with a smile. “What a lovely cloak, and very unusual. I do not believe I have ever seen its like before. The manner in which
it glitters in the starlight rivals the constellations in all their glory.”

“It is most kind in you to say so, Duke.” Regina seemed surprised at his lavish compliment, but she smiled politely.

The smile remained on Robert’s face, but he felt a sharp stab of disappointment. There had been no answering gleam in her eye, no acknowledgment of the intimate moments they had shared on the starry balcony. Could it be that she was not his Diana? But no, that was impossible. She was wearing the cloak and it was proof of her identity.

Robert was about to tender a further comment, to attempt to tease her into revealing that she had been the lady on the balcony, when he became aware that her mother was keenly observing their interaction. It was likely that Lady Harrington was protective of her daughters and would take his Diana to task if she suspected any impropriety. If this were indeed the case, Regina would be reluctant to admit that she had spent long intimate moments on the dark balcony, dancing with a man to whom she had not yet been formally introduced.