The Duke and the Virgin (5 page)

“Masquerade.”

“Wolfe, have you lost your mind? What is going on? Are you planning to steal the Crown Jewels or something?”

Drama, thy name is Mother
. “No, I am not planning to do anything of the sort. Can you host it?”

“Of course I can.” She harrumphed as if insulted he would think she couldn’t pull off the impossible. “So, tell me…who is she?”

Not bothering to deny her suspicions, he said, “I don’t know her name. Her real name, that is. How did you know?”

“The most eligible duke of the season, or the last five seasons, for that matter, shows his face at more balls and events in the last two weeks than he ever has. Believe me when I tell you, people are talking.” A maid carrying a tray of food stood in the doorway and his mother rose and slammed the door in her face. “What do you mean, you don’t know her name?”

“I met her a few weeks ago, but she wore a mask.”

“Curious.” His mother tapped her chin. “Are you sure she will come to this ball?”

“I am banking on her not being able to resist.”

“And if you find her, what are your plans?”

“I plan to make her my duchess and live happily ever after.”

His mother’s smile lit the room, “Now that is an idea I can’t resist. Go help that poor girl in the hall with the food tray then ring for my secretary. And I suggest you send all of your servants over here to help. This is going to take a miracle to accomplish.”

***

Lyssa looked around the ballroom as best she could. Wolfe stood a good head taller than most and she hoped that height would make it easier to find him. She didn’t believe one more person could inch their way in. The guests overflowed into the side rooms, and the crowd had begun to spill into the well-lit gardens. To call the party a crush would be an understatement. Still, she wondered why she’d had the nerve to come. But deep inside, she knew. She needed answers to the questions in her head. She wanted, had to know, if Wolfe would recognize her. Would he look for her and what would he do if he found her? The biggest question: how far would she go to be with him again?

She had hidden at her sister’s estate outside of London for the first couple of weeks after the night she’d spent with Wolfe. But one could only stay and listen to how much of a burden one was before leaving. And a fortnight had been long enough. Her aunt didn’t say
I told you so
, but only just. The inclement weather had been good enough reason not to go about town, but that wouldn’t last. When the invitation for the masquerade ball arrived and her aunt announced
we aren’t missing this for the world
, Lyssa didn’t argue.

So there she stood, on the edge of the dance floor, hoping to catch a glimpse of her duke, while wondering how her aunt would deal with Llysa’s decision to become his mistress. If he accepted her offer. She knew how the rest of the family would react, but as they treated her like an outcast anyway, she didn’t care. But she did care what her aunt thought. Fingering the cuff link she’d had designed into a necklace, Llysa prayed it would give her the strength to follow her heart.

Ten minutes turned to twenty, twenty turned to an hour, and she began to think maybe she wouldn’t see him. As another minute then another ticked by and each strain of music played, her confidence waned. No one had invited her to dance, not that she’d expected anyone to but once again, she knew she didn’t belong. Even when she wore a mask, no one wanted to know her.

Backing into the crowd to find her rightful place along the fringes of society, she froze when two strong hands gripped her waist. Hope swirled with fear. She waited, the strong grasp preventing her from turning.

“Tell me you don’t love me and I will leave, never bothering you again.” Warm breath near her ear caused shivers to skate down her spine.

She shook her head and, when he loosened his hands, turned to find him closer than she’d expected. Meeting the beautiful blue eyes she would know anywhere, she said, “I can’t say that.”

“Thank God.” Wolfe huffed and took her hand, tugging her through the crowd until he found an empty room. He snatched away the demi-mask he wore and claimed her lips. Her knees threatened to give out, but his strong arms kept her upright. “I have missed you.”

“I’ve missed you, too.” She breathed in the rich smell of brandy and the crisp starch scent of his shirt.

“Where have you been? I have attended every ball held over the last three weeks.”

Looking up at him, she couldn’t hide her shock. “Really? You never go to balls except those held by your family.”

“Exactly.”

“I went out of town at first.”

His fingers traced her cheekbones. “That explains it.”

She fiddled behind her neck until the necklace came off. Placing it in his hand, she said, “You said if I needed anything.”

“Anything.”

“I need you. I want to be yours.”

“How do you want me?”

She dropped her chin and inhaled deeply. “Any way you will have me. I’ll be your mistress if that is the only thing I can be. I love you, Wolfe, and I die inside at the thought of being without you.”

“Shhh.” He placed a finger against her lips. “I have no need for a mistress, Lyssa.”

“Oh. I just thought….” Embarrassment filled her and, leaping out of his embrace, she headed for the doorway.

“Lyssa, wait.” He gripped her elbow but she jerked away.

“I read too much into this. I’m a fool.”

“Lyssa, I don’t want you as my mistress. I want you as my duchess.”

She stilled, certain she had heard him wrong. “You can’t.”

“I assure you, I can.” He got down on one knee. “I love you.”

“But you have never seen my face nor have I told you my real name.” She sank to the floor with him. “You don’t know me.”

“But I do. We talked more during that one night than I have with any woman my entire life.” He kissed her again.

She paused. “My father is Viscount Rutherford.”

“I have met your father.” Wolfe barely held back a sneer, but his eyes held disdain.

“Exactly. He isn’t anyone’s favorite man, and I am his daughter.” Surely Wolfe wouldn’t want her as his duchess now.

“Who your father is doesn’t change the way I feel about you.” His thumbs rubbed the edge of her mask just above her cheekbone. “Who are
you
, Llysa?”

“Elizabeth Hamilton. I live with my aunt, Lady Clarissa Trombly.”

“Lyssa. That’s what your aunt calls you?”

“Yes.” Lifting her face, she waited for him to reach behind her head and remove the mask. Yet even after asking her to marry him, he waited for her permission, respecting her privacy. That alone would have been enough to ensure she loved him. At her nod, he tugged at the ties and she closed her eyes as the soft lace mask fell away. He said nothing for so long she feared he had left her. Opening her eyes again, she found him staring back with such love and adoration she nearly cried.

“I know you. I have always thought you were beautiful. I know you don’t believe me, but I remember you wore the richest green velvet to my uncle’s holiday ball last year. You talked with no one all night but read your book in the corner, only leaving to get your aunt something to drink.”

“You remember me?” How could that be?

“I remember you. Marry me, Llysa.”

Love bloomed in her chest. “Yes.”

Hauling her into his arms, he kissed her hair. “Thank God.”

The door swung open and his mother stormed in, with Lady Trombly and the servant whom Wolfe had positioned at the door to assure their privacy, following on her heels.

“Well, she seems to be thoroughly compromised,” his mother announced with no small degree of satisfaction.

Wolfe sighed and came to his feet, bringing Llysa with him. “Mother, she said yes.”

“Of course she did, but we wanted to be sure. Welcome to the family, Llysa.” Walking back to the entrance, his mother smiled. “You chose well, too, Wolfe. When I saw you leaving with Lyssa in tow, I had to be assured she join us. So many chits these days haven’t a brain to call their own. I am impressed, Wolfe. I underestimated your ability to find the perfect wife.”

Tearing happily, Lady Trombly first embraced Llysa then followed Wolfe’s mother out of the room. The two began discussing wedding plans before the door had shut behind them.

“Shall we announce our engagement?” Wolfe asked when the room had cleared.

Still unable to comprehend it all, Lyssa nodded, afraid if she spoke, the bubble of happiness would somehow burst. But as her husband-to-be wrapped an arm around her, infusing her with strength and love, she knew this would be forever.

“Are you by chance with child?” he asked. Looking into his clear eyes, she shook her head. “Well, that is something we will remedy on our wedding night.”

With their fingers intertwined, she let him lead her out into the ballroom. And though she might have been a wallflower, no one in the ton could deny she was now
his
flower. He declared his affection to her in full view of the ton. If she hadn’t been compromised when her aunt and his mother walked in on them, she was after the kiss had the entire ton declaring they had never seen such a love match before.

When the excitement died down and everyone who had ignored her in the past had congratulated her, Wolfe dragged her away, up a hidden staircase and into a large masculine bedroom. Pulling her into his arms, he whispered against her neck, in the spot he knew would drive her crazy with lust, “I thought we could practice for our wedding night.”

Lyssa thought, as he led her to the bed, that was a mighty fine idea indeed.

Award winning author Dominique Eastwick grew up a US Navy Brat, so if there was a Naval base that was probably home. She currently resides in North Carolina with her husband, two children, crazy lab and lazy cat.

When not writing you can find Dominique behind the lens of her camera.

You can visit Dominique at:

www.dominiqueEastwick.com

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