Midnight Masquerade

by Shirlee Busbee

  "And you," Royce retorted, "would be well advised to think twice before putting your head into the trap."

  Daniel shook his head. "Not me. Unlike you, I am eager to be married and set up my nursery. You can remain a crusty old bachelor if you like."

  There was a general titter of laughter since Royce, tall and commanding in his evening clothes of form-fitting dark blue jacket and black satin breeches, looked nothing like anyone's version of a crusty old bachelor. The conversation became general after that, and within a few minutes, to Royce's frustration, Latimer and Melissa drifted away.

  Melissa felt a qualm as Latimer guided them into a shadowy area that the flickering light from the lanterns barely penetrated. But then she gave a toss of her curls. Her husband was amusing himself in some darkened corner, so why shouldn't she? It had been anger that had driven her to Latimer's side and it was anger that kept her there, even if every bone in her body yearned to be with Dominic—but a Dominic who loved her.

  Although anger might have caused her to act rashly, it did not make her a fool, and the instant the obscuring darkness closed down around them, she stepped away from Latimer, her hand falling to her side. Like a wary young animal, she stood in front of him, poised to run at the first sign of danger.

  Noting her stance, Latimer said dryly, "I am hardly likely to pounce on you here, you know."

  In the darkness Melissa flushed. "I realize that. But you have to admit that I have little reason to trust you."

  There was a long silence, as if Latimer were turning over several avenues of thought, before he said, "I've asked your forgiveness for my odious behavior. Is there nothing that I can do that will let us be friends again?"

  Yes! Melissa wanted to scream. Take your sister and leave. Go far, far away and never let me hear either of your names again. Knowing she could hardly say such things, she sighed and muttered, "I don't know. I had thought that you were my friend, and then for you to act in such a despicable manner..."

  "My dear! You must understand that I went a little mad. I was a fool—I freely admit it—and if I had not been so rash, so blinded by my desire for you, it is I who would now be your husband instead of—"

  "Dominic," Melissa finished dully.

  Taking encouragement from the fact that she had not thrown his words back in his face, Latimer gently said, "I did try to warn you, my child. But you did not listen, did you?"

  Momentarily overcome, Melissa glanced away, fighting the tears that threatened to fall. His kindness was nearly her undoing. It would have been such a relief to share her misery with someone who understood Dominic's true nature, but loyalty, caution and an instinctive mistrust of Latimer's motives held her back. She had noted the look that he and Dominic had exchanged when Latimer and Deborah had arrived; she had felt the tension that had coiled in her husband's tall body as the two men politely traded greetings, and there was no doubt that Dominic's dislike of Latimer had deeper roots than her professed interest in the other man.

  Taking Melissa's continued silence for encouragement, Latimer stood behind her and laid a hand on her naked shoulder. "I never meant you any harm, my dear," he murmured. "It is true that my offer was a dastardly one, but if you will forgive me, I will try to be your friend and help you in any way I can." His voice taking on an emotional intensity, he added, "You can trust me... I would never betray you!"

  Pride stiffened her shoulders, and in a cool voice, she asked, "Are you so very sure that Dominic will?"

  A bitter laugh came from Latimer. "Can you doubt it? You forget that I have known him a long time—longer than you." Swinging Melissa around to face him, he demanded, "If you doubt the truth of my words, tell me—where is your husband now?"

  "Mon Dieu!" exclaimed Leonie gaily behind them. "That is something that I would like to know myself." Pretending not to see Melissa's start of surprise or the misery in her face, Leonie went on, "Where is that husband of yours?" Shaking a teasingly admonishing finger in Melissa's face, she continued. "Petite, you must treat these Slade men sternly, right from the beginning. Otherwise, they will rule you... just as Morgan does me!"

  Royce and Morgan materialized out of the darkness from behind Leonie, and Morgan said with a grin, "She's absolutely right, you know—from the moment I laid eyes on her, she has commandeered my life."

  Melissa made some rejoinder, the happiness between Dominic's brother and his wife a twisting knife in her already wounded heart. The pain became almost unbearable when moments later, Dominic with Deborah clinging to his arm strolled over to join them.

  Dominic's once-immaculate cravat was slightly askew, and Deborah's face wore such a look of smug triumph that Melissa had little doubt that they had just shared a passionate interlude in the darkness. She would have been astonished, however, if she had known that, far from sharing a passionate moment with Deborah, Dominic had spent the entire time drying to defend his honor, and his cravat had become disarrayed when he had forcefully jerked Deborah's clinging arms from around his neck and informed her harshly that he was a married man and would she please not be so forward.

  Chapter 20

  Except for the disagreeable necessity of having to suffer Latimer's presence and of having to act politely to the man he despised, Dominic had been enjoying his wife's first attempt at entertaining. Before their guests had arrived he had complimented Melissa on her appearance, thinking to himself that he had never seen her look lovelier... or more desirable, and as the evening progressed, he allowed himself to be encouraged by her soft smiles and wistful glances. He had been pleased with the state of affairs until Royce had practically thrust Deborah into his arms and he had seen the stricken expression which had flashed across Melissa's face.

  Aware that politeness prevented him from flinging Deborah's hand from his arm, and also aware of the reasons behind Royce's actions, Dominic had allowed Deborah to maneuver them into a secluded spot. Barely listening to her inane chatter, he had scanned the concealing darkness, hoping for a glimpse of his wife, and it was only when Deborah mentioned a name that he knew very well that she had his full attention.

  "Roxbury? The Duke of Roxbury?" he demanded. "Jason's uncle paid your passage to America?"

  Startled, Deborah looked up at him. "Jason? Who is Jason?"

  Impatiently, Dominic replied, "My brother's friend... and the nephew of the Duke of Roxbury."

  "Oh! Didn't I meet him at your wedding? A tall, distinguished man with very green eyes?"

  "That sounds like Jason Savage, but how is it that you know his uncle, the duke?"

  Giving a shrug, Deborah ran a caressing hand up his chest to his shoulder. "I don't know him—it is Julius who is acquainted with him." Forming her lips into a pretty pout, she murmured, "I don't want to talk about Roxbury or Julius. I want to talk about us...."

  Stifling a sigh, Dominic removed her hand from his shoulder and said gently, "Deborah, there is no us. Once there might have been, but that is in the past—as I've told you repeatedly. You must not dwell on what happened in London; it was a long time ago."

  Sulkily, she muttered, "Not such a long time ago, Dominic—less than four years ago."

  "That may be, but times change. You married another man, and I am a married man now myself."

  "How pompous you sound. Nothing at all like the ardent young man I fell in love with in London," Deborah said with an edge to her voice.

  "If you fell in love with me, then why did you believe your brother's lies about me? And loving me, why did you marry Bowden?" Dominic retorted, stung at being called pompous.

  Dropping her gaze, she moved her hand restlessly along his arm. "I didn't want to believe him, but he is my brother and I didn't know you very well. You could have been every vile thing that he claimed you were. How was I to know?" she asked.

  "Didn't your heart tell you anything?" he inquired, not really caring how she replied, unable to think of a way to change the subject to the far more interesting one of why the Duke of Roxbury had seen fit to expend his gold o
n strangers.

  "Oh, Dominic! I was young and unsure of myself—you were a brash American, so different from any man I had ever met. How was I to know that my brother's motives were not the highest? How was I to know that he wished me to marry that horrible old man?"

  Bored by the conversation, especially since he had heard it all before, Dominic said coolly, "It doesn't matter, Deborah. You did what you felt was right at the time—there is no use pining over what is done with—I bear you no animosity about what happened in the past."

  "Darling Dominic! You have no idea how happy it makes me to hear you say that. I have brooded many an hour over the injustice of my actions and I was thrilled when Julius told me that we were coming to America—my first thoughts after hearing the news were of you." She glanced up at him, the blue eyes wide and pleading, Cupid's bow mouth soft and inviting.

  Unmoved, Dominic asked dryly. "Were they, my dear?"

  "Oh, yes! All I could think was that I would see you again and that I would have a chance to make amends... and perhaps..." She sighed. "But it was not to be. You were engaged to be married, and Roxbury's generosity came to naught."

  Pleased that Roxbury's name had been introduced once again, Dominic said quickly, "I'm curious how it was that Roxbury came to arrange your passage here, and at a time of war between our two countries. It is most peculiar."

  An expression of annoyance flitted across her perfect features. "Not so peculiar when you understand that old Weatherby and the duke were close friends. When Roxbury learned that Julius' inheritance was here in America, he very kindly offered to pay our way. He said he was doing so because he believed that it had been an oversight on Weatherby's part not to have left us the money to reach here."

  Keeping his face bland, Dominic listened to her tale with growing astonishment. Of all the cock-and-bull stories that he had ever heard! He didn't know Roxbury intimately, but having observed the older man when in London and having heard tales from both Jason and Morgan about Roxbury's machinations, he had come to the firm conclusion that Roxbury never did anything idly. Though the man was reputed to be generous, it sounded out of character for him to squander a large sum of money on virtual strangers to help them gain a dubious inheritance. But it was interesting.... With only politeness in his tone, he asked, "And money to live on? Where did that come from? Not to touch on a delicate area, but I seem to recall that in London you and your brother were always hard pressed for money, and yet, since you have been here, money appears to be no problem for you."

  "That's rude!" Deborah snapped, her lips thinning.

  "You're absolutely right," Dominic admitted, aware that in his quest for information he had been rude. "It was most ungentlemanly of me, but I could not help wondering about it."

  "There is nothing so very odd about it," Deborah said sulkily. "As you know, there are many people in America who still have a certain loyalty to the crown—who felt then and still feel that the War for Independence was a mistake. Roxbury is a member of a philanthropic organization in London which is in the fate of those Britons who opposed the rebellion but remained here afterward." At Dominic's skeptical look, she said, "I don't care if you believe me or not. It's true! Roxbury wanted Julius to talk to some of these people, and he was willing to pay my brother a handsome sum to do it. I think it is all very silly. Especially since nothing can be done until after the war."

  "Pardon? I'm afraid I don't understand."

  Deborah shot him an irritated look. "After the war Roxbury's organization is willing to pay the passage home to England of any indigent, former British soldier so that the doddering simpletons can die in Britain. I told you it was silly!"

  "Silly" wasn't precisely the word that Dominic would have used to describe the situation. Deborah was certainly silly if she believed one word of the nonsense she had just spouted, and as for Roxbury... Dominic felt a chill slide down his spine. He'd wager his birthright that Roxbury cared not one whit for the fate of some elderly, former British soldier who wished to return to the land of his birth to die. But how clever to concoct a reason for his own man to call upon those men who had once sworn to serve the British crown. That sly, sly old fox.

  Dominic couldn't be positive of Roxbury's motives and plans, but he didn't believe for one moment that it had been altruistic reasons that had prompted the duke to enlist Latimer's aid. Still, it was a piece of information that they had not possessed before, and eager now to discuss the matter with the others, Dominic attempted to guide Deborah away from the little nook where they were standing. Smiling at her, he said, "I agree with you, my dear; it does sound rather silly. Now shall we join the others? I'm sure that they have missed us."

  "Oh, Dominic! You cannot mean it!" Deborah wailed, and throwing her arms around him, she lifted her face to his. "We have so few moments alone, and I cannot bear to share you with the others just yet. Please, dear Dominic, kiss me once again."

  Uncomfortable and exasperated, Dominic retorted, "Good God, Deborah, I am a married man. When will you accept that fact and stop creating these embarrassing scenes. I do not remember that you used to be so forward."

  With a less-than-gentle motion, he jerked her arms from around his neck, thinking viciously that he'd like to put Jason Savage in this position and see how he enjoyed it. But mindful of the need not to alienate Deborah, he said more gently, "You are a very attractive woman—far too attractive to waste yourself on an ineligible fellow like me." Smiling at her, he murmured, "You must not tempt me, my dear."

  Her ruffled feathers soothed, some of the fury died from Deborah's eyes and she asked coyly, "Do I tempt you, Dominic?"

  Relieved that she seemed to be taking his rebuff so well, he said with complete truthfulness, "Oh, yes, you do tempt me, indeed." What he didn't tell her was that she tempted him to wring her neck.

  Deborah was pleased with his words and there was a smug smile on her face as Dominic guided her over to the small group which contained Melissa. Dominic might be married, but Deborah didn't see how that presented a problem; he was still the most exciting man she had ever met in her life, and now that she was no longer an innocent miss, she was determined to experience the power of his passion. Besides, Julius had asked her to remain on friendly terms with Dominic, and she had every intention of doing.

  There had been a pleasant smile on Dominic's face as he had approached the group, but when his eyes fell upon Latimer standing so close to Melissa, his expression hardened and he was conscious of a strong inclination to snatch Melissa close to his side, to make it clear to everyone, especially Latimer, that Melissa was his. Unfortunately, that was a little difficult to do, considering that he had another woman clinging to his arm and was surrounded by guests who would find his actions amusingly childish. Once again his thoughts of Jason and Morgan were not kind, not at all kind.

  His already exacerbated temper was not helped in the least when Leonie, a determined glint in her sea-green eyes, leaned over and tapped him on the arm with her ivory-and-gold fan. "For shame, mon cher! To desert your young bride this way at her first dinner party. What are you thinking of?" Turning to a frozen-faced Melissa, she dragged her forward and scolded, "You must not let him continue with his old tricks, petite. It is imperative that you make him understand that his days of rakish behavior are over."

  While the others watched with varying degrees of amusement and chagrin, Leonie stepped up to Dominic and in one skillful movement disengaged Deborah's hand from his arm. In a voice of teasing reproof, she said, "And now, my dear Lady Bowden, you must not take up any more of his time. He has a sweet bride who commands all of his attention these days."

  Before anyone could lodge a protest or even knew what she was about, Leonie had grabbed Melissa's cold hand and placed it firmly on Dominic's arm. Like a farmer's wife shooing chickens before her, she turned them around and pushed them away, saying merrily, "Away with you two! There is a wonderful golden moon shining above, and it is a perfect night for lovers. Go. Go and enjoy yourselves."

/>   Having no other choice under Leonie's expert generalship, Dominic and Melissa disappeared into the darkness. Her face filled with satisfaction, Leonie turned to look at the others. "Wasn't that very bad of me?"

  There was a general ripple of laughter, although Leonie noticed that neither Monsieur Latimer nor Lady Bowden appeared to gain much enjoyment from it. But the approving gleam in Royce's eyes and the loving laughter in Morgan's dancing blue eyes were all she cared about. Deciding that it was time to follow her own excellent advice, she grasped Morgan's arm and murmured impishly, "Excuse us, s'il vous plait? It is a night for lovers, and I wish to spend it with mine!"

  The silence which fell in the wake of their departure was both angry and diverting—Latimer and Lady Bowden were barely able to conceal their anger, and Royce had found the entire situation diverting. His voice full of suppressed amusement, Royce said, "I do believe that the newly named Duke of Wellington could have used Leonie's tactics against Napoleon, don't you?"

  Her lovely face marred by a haughty expression, Deborah replied, "She is certainly very forward. I do not believe that you Americans have any manners at all."

  "Perhaps not," Royce agreed. "But if you think that way," he added, "why do you punish yourself by remaining among us?"

  Deborah flashed him a glance of active dislike and answered stiffly, "I should have said some Americans. There are many who are aware of how to act in polite society, but Leonie Slade is not one of them."