The Duke's Undoing (Three Rogues and Their Ladies) (17 page)

“No! I can hardly credit it!” Her friend said. “Gregory?”

“Gregory. I think it would do him a world of good, Violet, if you were to spurn him. I know that you think you love him, but your love is too much like worship, and he does not deserve worship. His double-dealing with you and me should certainly prove that to you.”

Her friend sat still as a stone. “I have certainly been deceived in him, Elise. I thought his regard for me was genuine. And I thought I loved him.” Tears trickled down her cheeks. “But it seems that the man I thought I loved never existed.”

Elise sat next to her friend in the window seat and gathered her in her arms. “We were both deceived. I think the man is quite a different person than either of us knows.”

Violet’s weeping turned to sobbing. “I thought I was to be married, at last,” she choked out. “Now there is nothing for me to do but to have Thomas take me home to Shropshire.”

“I know it does not seem much of a comfort at present, Violet. But at least you have a loving home to which you may return. Your mother will not castigate you for this.”

Violet withdrew her handkerchief and blew her nose. “The Season is nearly at an end. What a relief it will be to get away from London. I shall go home straight away. Thomas shall accompany me to Shropshire first thing tomorrow. The sooner I am gone from here, the better. Oh, Elise!” Violet began to cry once more.

Her friend’s heartache took precedence over being on time for the ball. She let Violet cry herself out. She had performed the same loving service for Elise on that long ago day when she had received the notice of Joshua’s death. “Now we are bound by sorrow, my dear,” she said. “But I must hope that someday in the future, we will be bound by joy.”

When Violet’s weeping had wound down to an occasional sniffle, Elise said, “I will miss you. I think I will go to Bath or Brighton with my aunt over the summer. My mother is being difficult.”

Then she looked at the ormolu clock on her mantle. It was nearly time to leave for the Reardons’ masquerade. “Violet, do you think you can help me into this Georgian horror?” she asked as she pulled her costume from the wardrobe. “First we have to tape the pannier cage on and then pull the dress over it.”

Giving her head a little shake, Violet rose and came to help her. “I have something to confess, Elise.”

“And what is that?”

“I think possibly the reason I became so attached to Gregory is that it appeared that he was the first one in our whole lives as friends who preferred me to you.”

“Oh, Violet! I never knew you felt that way. I’m sorry.” The idea that her friend could have suffered such inferiority for so many years smote her. “You are in so many ways my superior. I have a confession, too. Being deserted by Gregory for one I felt to be my moral better was the worst part of the whole episode for me. And I missed you so terribly much. More than Gregory, actually.” Leaving the bulky red satin brocade bodice resting on the wide cage that extended outward from her hips, she took her friend’s sweet face in her hands. “Our friendship is the best thing in my life. I am closer to you than any of my sisters. They are too much younger. There is no one else who knew me as a girl. Who else knows what I have suffered because of Joshua’s death and Robert’s crazed episodes?”

Even as she asked the question, Elise realized that it was no longer strictly true. She had lately acquired another friend who knew what Joshua’s loss meant, as well as the depth of fear she had for Robert. Ruisdell. And he might not have known her as a child, but he did know the worst side of her mother and could probably make a pretty fair guess as to what she had experienced.

For a moment, she was tempted to confide in Violet about her fondness for the duke, but she was late, and it would take far too long to recount their experiences together. So she said nothing and let Violet fasten her dress up the back. Looking in the mirror, she saw the square neckline that revealed a little more than she would like. Opening the drawer to her dresser, she pulled out a piece of antique lace that would suit her purposes nicely. The last thing she wanted tonight was to be leered at by drunken gentlemen.

“Violet, I feel almost naked. Will you help me secure this lace so it covers at least part of my bosom?”

Her friend actually giggled before complying with Elise’s request. That augured well for her state of mind.

They said a fond farewell a few minutes later, as Elise departed, swinging her loo mask by its ties.

HIS GRACE ATTENDS A MASQUERADE

If she doesn’t come in the next fifteen minutes, I’m for the card room
. Then Ruisdell saw her on the stairs. Or rather her aunt, who was recognizable by her mushoom shape within the shepherdess costume. Beside her, Elise was intriguing as a Georgian lady, her hair powdered and towering, her red brocade dress extending outward on either side over devishly large panniers. Had it not been for Lady Clarice, the duke knew he never would have recognized her.

Would she recognize him? Had they, in just the last few days, become as intimate as that? He was more disguised than she in his black domino that covered his evening dress and a concealing loo mask. Deciding to conduct an experiment, he moved toward the bottom of the stairs, where he waited. She descended, looked out over the vast ballroom filled with costumed guests as though seeking someone, and walked right past him. Was it he she was seeking? Even after what Lady William had goaded him into saying that afternoon?

Casually pursuing her and her aunt, he waited until Elise had found a seat for Lady Clarice with the chaperones. Then coming up behind her, he whispered, “Sunshine.”

She whirled, and when she recognized him, her face broke into the smile that gladdened his heart. “Your Grace!”

“Shh! I was not invited! Lady Reardon has strict policies concerning rakes. I came in through the terrace doors.”

“I didn’t think you liked balls.”

“How else was I to see you to make my apologies?” He took her gloved hand in his. The orchestra stuck up a waltz. “Will you take a chance and dance with this old cripple?”

“If you are seeking my consent, I will grant it, purely on charitable grounds.”

“I can deserve no more.”

As they swept out onto the floor, Ruisdell found that if he circumscribed his moves carefully, he could manage to waltz in a credible, if not admirable, manner.

“Sunshine, do forgive me. Your mother was giving you a beastly time, and I fear my unequivocal statement was harsh.”

“But I also abused you abominably,” she said. “I have been chastising myself all afternoon. You have been nothing but kind to me. You may be counted a rogue, but I certainly have never seen that side of you. You have been all that is good and amiable.”

“Egads! Don’t let Somerset hear you say that. He’ll go into a decline.”

“I believe you use your reputation to keep people at a distance. I don’t know why you have extended yourself to help me . . .”

“For another, you recall. For my adjutant.”

Even under her mask, he could see her face soften. “Thank you,” she said softly.

Whether it was the tempting patch and the dimples or the husky timber of her voice, he found that, in spite of what he had just said, he very much wanted to kiss those perfect, soft lips. Her allure was unmistakable tonight. He cursed the mask. It made it almost impossible to see the expression in her eyes. He thought her not impartial to him. After tomorrow’s duel, he would have to rusticate at his estate or go abroad until the furor died down. All he wanted was one kiss. Would she grant it?

Meanwhile he would enjoy the sensation of having her in his arms. He realized that he might never have had this experience but for the masquerade.

“You sent the notice to the
Morning Post
?”

“Yes,” she responded. “So you have nothing more to fear from me. As soon as this dance is over, I will be out of your life.”

“And what makes you so certain that is what I want?”

“Well, I won’t be set up as one of your flirts.”

“You think there can be no middle ground?”

“Not for a man and a woman in this society.”

He pulled her closer to him and said softly, “What about friendship?”

She seemed to consider this. “Do you think that is really possible?”

“Not if you are worried about marrying. I should scare away all your court with my reputation. Not to mention their mamas.” That was true enough, unfortunately.

“Would that you could scare away the viscount. He came very close to breaking poor Violet’s heart with his inconstancy.”

“So you do not wish to marry him?” The duke prayed he did not sound too hopeful.

“And have him falling in love with other women at the drop of a hat? How he has escaped the reputation of rake, I have no clue.”

“I think he is honestly attached to you.” The dance was coming to an end, if he knew his music. “What is it you really want, Elise?”

She surprised him. “To be whisked away by some romantic gentleman to the Continent to see the world!”

“I’m very much afraid that Waterford is ready to oblige you!”

Her face fell, and she showed a mocking pout. “I could not convince you to do such a thing?”

“It sounds like the perfect idyll. However, you would require marriage as a prerequisite, would you not?”

She laughed at him. “Yes, Your Grace. I am afraid so. It is my unfortunate upbringing. I would not want my mother to hire an assassin.”

“Well, there is one great bar to marriage that I can see.”

The waltz had ended, and they were strolling through the crush. Though he knew there were undoubtedly some clever costumes to be seen among the milling
ton
, he had eyes only for Elise. Even as a Georgian Miss, she was stunning to his senses.

“Your inclination to remain single?” she asked.

“Rather whether are not we would suit,” he said carefully.

“And how would you determine that?”

“By simple means. Let us make an experiment, if we can ever make our way out to the terrace.”

“Your Grace . . .”

“Peter,” he reminded her.

“Now that we are no longer engaged, it must be ‘Your Grace,’” she told him. “What do you have in mind? I’m warning you, I’m not to be trifled with!”

“I wouldn’t dream of trifling with you. Beynon’s ghost would find a way of seeing that I met a sticky end, I am convinced.”

Ah! They were within sight of the French doors. In moments, he had forged their way through, holding Elise about the waist. The doors stood open to the night, and he swept her onto the terrace. “I regret that I cannot carry you off to the Continent tonight, but let us be contented with going as far as the garden. I believe the Lady Reardon’s hydrangeas to be quite a rare shade of blue.”

She chuckled. “As though we could see them in the dark!”

There was a crunch of gravel as they descended the steps and several couples followed them into the cool night air. Ruisdell found a deserted bench and making a great show of seating her with a bow, he then seated himself next to her. Putting a finger on her generous lower lip, he asked, “Are you ready to find out if we can thrill each other to the tips of our toes?”

Seemingly enthralled, she nodded.

“Then, let us dispose of the masks. I wish to see your eyes better. And your pert little nose. How glad I am that you did not inherit your mother’s beak!”

“I have always held that to be among my greatest blessings.”

He had to make this special for her. Running his finger gently over her jawline, he outlined her ear and then her mouth. The lace which lay over her breasts tantalized him, but remembering who she was, he took her in his arms, and then slowly lowered his mouth to hers.

Before he even touched her with his lips, he felt a tearing great pain in his back. In a flash, he realized he had been knifed.

OUR HEROINE SHOWS GREAT PRESENCE OF MIND

Elise had her eyes closed for what she suspected would be the kiss of a lifetime. All during the waltz she shared with the duke she had been aware of his scent—sandlewood soap and musky sweat—his arm pulling her ever closer to his embrace and, despite his teasing words, the tenderness she could see in his eyes. Her guard was down completely, and she ached to press herself to him and feel his full embrace and his lips on hers. Worse, she was ready for any experiment that he suggested.

Instead of the kiss she was primed for, however, she heard a groan. Her eyes flew open to see a tall figure in a green domino reaching for her and the duke hunched over with a silver-handled stiletto sticking out of his back. Robert!

She screamed as loudly as she could. “Help! Someone help me!” Two couples came running from the direction of the terrace. Robert ran the opposite way.

“Go after the man in the green domino! He is dangerous. He stabbed the duke and tried to kidnap me!”

A man dressed as Pierrot went running after Robert. Elise drew the duke into her arms, supporting his head on her shoulder. “Your Grace? Peter?”

“Get Somerset!” he said hoarsely.