Heart of a Marquess

by Joyce Alec

  But it was his eyes that made me stare in disbelief. Brilliantly blue, sparkling in the lights from the candles around the room and the chandelier overhead.

  I had seen those eyes before. I had danced with the man they belonged to. I had kissed the man whose eyes had gazed into mine so startlingly.

  It was him. It was my mysterious man from the masquerade ball.

  “It is an honor to make your acquaintance,” Henry said to me, his voice just as I remembered it, unable to completely vanquish it from my mind.

  My hands trembled as I lifted one to his. He took it in his own, and I nearly burst with anticipation.

  “The honor is all mine, I assure you,” I said breathlessly.

  I could not look away from him. It could not be real. I must have been dreaming. After all the agony and sorrow of believing I had lost him, here he was, standing in front of me.

  The room swayed around me, and I had to discreetly grip the staircase behind me to prevent myself from falling to the floor. A great weight was lifted from my shoulders. I felt as if I could fly.

  I had found him. Just as I had hoped I would. Or, rather, he had found me.

  The same recognition had not brightened his face yet, but that was no matter. The mask truly must have hidden my appearance well, but that was of no consequence. Everything was just as it should be. Before the night was over, I would remind him of our time together at the ball.

  Lord Walford moved on to introduce my sister to Lord Henry, and when he looked away from me, it was as if the very air in my lungs was pulled from my lungs.

  This was not just some vain attraction I held for the man. There was something in our souls that tied us together. All those feelings I had the night of the ball were real. The loss I felt was because I believed I had lost a man that I had fallen for without even knowing his name, and that loss had been real. I grieved as if I had been forbidden from loving him. I had longed for him as if I had known him for a great length of time.

  But I knew his name now. I knew his face now. And I knew that he was an ideal match for me.

  Could my life get any better in that moment?

  The door to the foyer opened once more, cold air rushing inside, and I took the chance to get Sarah’s attention while Lord Henry and Lord Walford looked away.

  “It is him,” I whispered as quietly and as urgently as I could.

  “Him?” Sarah questioned, her brow furrowing.

  “The man in the mask!”

  Her eyes widened. “No!”

  “Yes!”

  “How do you know?” she hissed in reply.

  “His eyes”

  She glanced at the back of Henry’s head in awe.

  “Truly?”

  I nodded.

  “Our apologies,” came the voice of another man from the door. “Dear Mother nearly slipped. All of that fresh snow took her by surprise.”

  I peered around Henry and saw that a very beautiful woman had just entered the house. She wore a lovely red dress, and her brown hair was elegantly pinned up behind her head. She smiled at all of us as a servant moved to help her remove her coat.

  But where had the voice come from?

  I leaned around Henry a little further and saw another man with his back to us, removing his traveling cloak from his shoulders.

  “There is no need to apologize,” my father said as he closed the door to the cold night. “It is I who should be apologizing for slippery steps.”

  “Not a thing can be done about it this time of year. Right, Mother?”

  The man in the cloak spun around, and I was grateful that everyone else in the room had laughed, because a gasp had escaped me, entirely out of my control.

  The young man standing beside his mother had dark hair, a strong jaw, and a narrow, pointed nose. The same easy smile that I had just seen, that I remembered so well, rested upon his handsome face.

  And his eyes…they were startlingly blue.

  Lord Henry had an identical twin.

  5

  It was incredibly hard to keep a straight face in those following moments. I could hear the blood pounding in my ears, and I could also feel Sarah’s eyes boring into the side of my head. I did not look at her. If I did, I would most likely lose all my composure.

  I stared between the two men, wildly confused.

  Which one was the one I had danced with at the masquerade ball? Which one had I kissed?

  Lord Henry had not recognized me, so did that mean that he was the twin of the one in the mask?

  Lord Walford had just finished introducing his wife and other son to Mother and Father, and turned towards Sarah and me.

  I was certain that they would all hear the frantic fluttering of my heart. There was no way they could not. I began to feel lightheaded.

  “Lady Grace, Lady Sarah,” said Lord Walford, “may I introduce you to my wife, Lady Walford, and my other son, Edmund, Earl of Townshend.”

  “It is an honor, ladies,” Lord Townshend said, bowing.

  He made eye contact with me, and the same shock that had coursed through my body with Henry passed over me, as if I had been doused in icy water.

  This brother did not recognize me either. His face was kind and loving. Both of Lord Walford’s sons seemed quite amiable. This was unbelievable, every moment of it.

  How strange, to experience the very same reaction with both men, to feel the same feelings deep in my soul. The similarities between them were incredible. They even had the same mannerisms, which I noticed as we all stood together in the foyer, exchanging pleasantries.

  I was slightly discouraged; I had hoped that looking into Lord Townshend’s face would help me determine who the man was behind the black mask. It was becoming more and more apparent that I was going to have to pay closer attention.

  Either that, or hope that one of them recognized me.

  The implications of the man I had danced with being Lord Henry was the best scenario. It meant that I was already engaged to my masked stranger, and he and I could live in peace together. I was certain we would laugh together about all of this, the irony of it all, and it would be a most amusing story to tell our children one day.

  But if it happened to be his brother…

  The butler appeared at the end of the hall, bowing deeply. He beamed at our guests. “Dinner is served, my lord.”

  “Excellent!” Father replied, clapping his hands together. “You are all in for quite a treat. Our chef has made an exquisite meal for this wonderful Christmas Eve.”

  I shook my head as we made our way down the hall toward the dining room.

  It was imperative that I discerned which twin I had kissed. But how? It would not be very proper to come right out and ask Henry if he remembered kissing me.

  The very thought made me blush scarlet.

  “Grace…”

  I looked over at Sarah, who had walked over to me and slipped her arm into mine, pulling me close.

  “Are you still so sure that the masked man is Lord Henry?”

  I shook my head.

  “What are you going to do?” she questioned. “They look exactly alike!”

  “I know,” I whispered in reply. I squared my shoulders as we stepped into the dining room. “I will just have to be clever.”

  “And patient,” Sarah added.

  Somehow, I would manage to do just that. I had to.

  We took our seats around the table, the candles flickering merrily in the centerpieces. The food smelled divine, and the crystal goblets my mother had insisted we use glittered in the firelight.

  I sat beside my sister, and as we allowed the servants to push us in closer to the table, I realized that I was seated across from both twins.

  My heart leapt up into my throat.

  It was exhilarating to know that I had found the man from the ball. I never thought that I would be so blessed. What were the chances that the man my father chose for me was the very same that I had also chosen?

  But what were the chances t
hat he also had a twin? And an identical one at that? I could not tell them apart.

  Dinner began happily, with very comfortable conversations. I listened carefully, interjecting whenever a question was asked. But my mind was elsewhere.

  No one aside from Sarah knew that I had made a connection with anyone at the masquerade ball. Mother and Father would start to ask too many questions if I was forward with either of the men, and it would be very rude. I would not want either Lord Henry or Lord Townshend to think any less of me, or to think me impertinent.

  I had to be very careful about how I approached the matter.

  But I had to be sure. Once the man I had danced with realized it, everything would also change for him. And I might as well attempt to discern the truth in the safest, easiest way possible.

  I quickly understood that Lord Walford and his wife had thrown the best ball of the season, and they had no issue jumping into the conversation whole heartedly. Sarah and I discussed dresses and fashion with Mother and Lady Walford. Father, Lord Walford, and his sons discussed the hunting for the season with my father.

  I kept catching Henry stealing glances at me, and when his eyes met mine, he smiled. I returned it easily, and then had to force myself to look away.

  I did not know if it was him for sure. I did not know if he was looking at me because he recognized me, or if he was just trying to decide if we were a good match.

  It was truly maddening, not knowing the difference.

  I had to figure it out, for the sake of my own sanity.

  After much consideration and paying attention to the conversation, I decided that directly talking to Henry was going to be the best way forward. It would not seem strange for a woman to ask questions about her betrothed. In fact, she knew it would please her parents to see her interacting with him. It would most likely please him and his own parents as well.

  “Lord Henry,” I began finally. It took me several minutes to build up the courage to even open my mouth. Now that I had begun, though, I did not think I would be able to stop. “Did you attend the masquerade ball a fortnight ago?”

  Henry’s face brightened, and he turned his dazzling gaze upon me. It chilled me all the way to the bone and warmed my heart all at the same time.

  “I was, indeed,” he replied smoothly. “I was there the entire evening.” He laughed warmly. “It certainly helped that it was taking place at my father’s estate.”

  We laughed together easily. My heart beat faster.

  “It was an absolutely magical evening,” I said, swirling my soup with my spoon. It was wonderfully flavored, but my stomach churned inside of me. If I put another spoonful in my mouth, I would have to retire to my room for the rest of the evening. “My sister and I enjoyed it immensely.”

  “I am very glad to hear it,” he said.

  All the other conversations from the dining table slowed and faded away. I could feel all their eyes on Lord Henry and me, listening closely to our words.

  “Did you enjoy the music?” he asked.

  “Enchanting,” I answered truthfully. “I spent most of the night dancing to it.”

  I watched his face closely for any flicker of recognition. I hoped that my words might have been enough of a clue for him.

  But he simply smiled at me in reply. Still he did not know that it was me.

  “Well, that is nice to hear. That is what balls are for, after all!”

  Lord Townshend watched his brother very carefully. As twins, I was certain that they must be very close. Perhaps even able to communicate without words. I could not read his face, but his gaze was intense as he glanced between the two of us.

  “I, too, spent most of the evening dancing,” Lord Henry went on. “I truly enjoyed the mystery of not knowing my dance partner.”

  Was there another meaning to his words? I looked for clues, but still, he was not offering any clue as to whether or not he remembered me.

  “Perhaps we danced together and did not even realize it!” Lord Henry exclaimed. “That is quite possible, is it not?”

  I stared at him, trying to keep my mouth closed. Was that his way of letting me know that it was him? Was he attempting to communicate it to me without the others noticing?

  Sarah was not even trying to participate in other conversations at this point. She was staring at me as intently, as was Lord Townshend.

  “I do love masquerade balls,” I said, attempting to navigate the matter as carefully as I could. “It made the whole night incredibly exciting. But how could someone ever find the people they had danced with again, since everyone wore a mask?”

  Henry responded. “It adds to the mystery of it all, does it not?”

  His vagueness was infuriating. Did he understand what I was trying to imply? If he did, then he should have made it clear that he remembered our dance, and our kiss. In my admiration of him, I had assumed that he was clever, intelligent. Had I misread him entirely? Or had I kissed his twin. My hope that the mysterious man was Lord Henry began to fade.

  I had to try again and decided to be brave and ask a very bold question, one that only the man I had danced with would understand.

  “Even the exterior of the house was well decorated,” I began, folding my hands on my lap to ensure no one saw them shaking. “The gardens and the fountains were a very welcome place of quiet and peace. And the terrace…” I sighed, not needing to pretend to be lost in the memory of that night. “I loved how the back terrace was decorated. The candles, the garland, the mistletoe…”

  I watched Henry very carefully. If he did not understand this, then he was either dimwitted, or was the wrong brother.

  He smiled at me, and shrugged his shoulders. “I did not have the pleasure of seeing the garden after it became dark. I have spent much time on that terrace, but sadly did not see it the night of the ball.”

  So that meant…

  I looked over at his brother, Lord Townshend, and saw that his eyes were wide, staring at me with renewed interest. His face had paled, and his easy, comfortable demeanor had vanished. He sat straight in his chair, as rigid as a board. Comprehension had dawned on his face.

  He finally recognized me, too.

  6

  We sat there and stared at one another, almost unabashedly so. Lord Henry had returned to his potatoes, and others around the table discussed the outdoor decorations and whether they had seen them as well.

  I averted my eyes to my plate, lifting my fork and knife and attempting to pretend to find the vegetables interesting. No one else at the table seemed to think my question or Henry’s remark strange. I was grateful, and yet, suddenly, I felt entirely alone.

  This was worse than I thought. Why, oh why, did it have to be Lord Townshend I had kissed?

  It was easy to see, now that I knew the truth. Lord Townshend’s smile curved up the right side of his face; his brother’s, the left. Lord Townshend’s hair was slightly shorter than his brother’s. All characteristics seemed obvious now.

  I was going to marry the wrong twin. I could not believe it. How could this have happened?

  Lord Townshend continued to steal glances of me, and our eyes met on several occasions. I clearly saw the understanding of our circumstances in his eyes. It was an intense gaze. I could tell he had so much to say, as we had much to discuss. It was a fire burning between us, threatening to engulf us both.

  What was there to do? What could we do?

  I certainly could not sit there quietly and happily. The lies would be plain on my face. I needed some air. I needed a moment to collect my thoughts.

  Lord Townshend sipped his wine casually. How was it that he appeared so tranquil through this? How could he so easily engage in a conversation with my father as he did?

  Sarah nudged me with her elbow.

  I turned my gaze to her.

  Her eyes were questioning.

  I indicated Lord Townshend with a quick glance.

  Her eyes grew wide, and she nervously shook her head.

  If only s
he knew how upsetting the entire situation was to me.

  Just as I meant to rise from the table and feign illness, fully knowing it would not truly be feigned, Lord Townshend rose from his chair.

  “My deepest apologies,” he said, bowing to my mother and father. “If you will excuse me for a moment…”

  He looked at me, very pointedly, before making his way to the door and stepping out.

  “Is he quite all right?” Mother asked concernedly.

  Lady Walford nodded her head. “Oh, yes. The lad has a sensitive stomach. Walking helps him far more than any sort of medicine.”

  “My, that sounds rather troubling,” Mother went on.

  “It was difficult when he was young, but he has taken it in stride, learned how to best deal with it,” Lady Walford said. “His brother experiences the same pain.”

  Lord Henry looked at me nervously. “Though not nearly as often as I used to,” he added.

  I could believe his mother’s anecdote, but doubted she was right in her thinking. He must have been feeling the same pressure that I was and decided to excuse himself.

  If I understood him correctly, then he was most likely waiting for me somewhere away from the prying ears of our families.

  It was not as if I could use the very same excuse as he did. I would certainly have to come up with another lie and ensure that it was quite believable.

  My fingers spun around the stem of my wine glass, the dark red liquid inside swirling.

  I stopped.

  Mother and Father had resumed their conversation with Lord and Lady Walford. Sarah watched me intently. Henry allowed the servant behind him to pour wine into his goblet.

  I seized the opportunity before it disappeared.

  I nudged my fingers against the wine glass, tipping it toward me. The glass hit the table with a ringing clang, and the deep red wine splashed onto the pristine white table and onto the front of my dress.

  It had worked.

  Mother gasped in surprise, and Lord Henry and Sarah both jumped to their feet. Sarah meant to avoid the wine dripping from the table, while Lord Henry asked after my safety.