Midnight Masquerade

by Shirlee Busbee

  As September slowly gave way to October, her first rush of fear lessened, particularly when the news that came trickling down the Mississippi River from the towns and cities in the north was only good: Baltimore, under the generalship of Samuel Smith, had valiantly repulsed the British attack on that city during the first week of September. Even more satisfying to the Americans, Major General Robert Ross, one of the British officers who had ordered the burning of Washington, had been killed by a sharpshooter. Then on September 11, at Plattsburgh, New York, a large British invasion force, under the command of Sir George Prevost, had been defeated; and on Lake Champlain, the American naval captain Thomas Macdonough had displayed brilliant tactics and annihilated the British squadron which had accompanied Prevost. The news might be weeks old by the time it reached the remote towns and villages of the country, but it was just as joyfully received as if the event had happened yesterday.

  As things slowly settled back into some appearance of normalcy, Melissa's thoughts returned to the dissatisfying situation that existed between Dominic and her. She saw him seldom these days; it seemed to her that he was always rushing out the door on his way to some important meeting, and though he was unfailingly polite to her those times they were together, attending this party or dinner or that one, it was not the relationship she had envisioned that morning Adam St. Clair had arrived with the news of the burning of Washington. They were still as chaste as if they were brother and sister. It was a situation which Melissa found mystifying, especially since Dominic had sought her out and, during the night which had followed, had left her in no doubt of his desire for her. Unfortunately, it was equally true that he had not expressed undying love for her, nor had he declared that he would spend every night in her arms. But if she found the situation mystifying and unacceptable, she was not quite brave enough to change it. For many more nights than she cared to contemplate, she had lain awake in her own lonely bed, trying to gather enough nerve to fling open the doors that separated their bedchambers and march boldly into her husband's room and... seduce him. Some nights she would actually get as far as her hand on the doorknob before her courage would evaporate and she would scuttle back to her own bed to spend the remainder of the night tossing and turning, afflicted by the most explicitly carnal dreams imaginable.

  Melissa might have been able to do as she desperately wanted if there had not been the painful question of Dominic's involvement with Deborah Bowden. There were times she could have sworn that he cared nothing for the other woman, that he was annoyed by the way Deborah attempted to monopolize his attention at the various social functions that they all attended, and yet he continually allowed Deborah to get away with the most outrageous conduct. Melissa was in a state of constant, angry bewilderment. Dominic's manner to her the few moments they had alone, was warm and gallant, the expression in his gray eyes making her pulse quicken; and then the next, he appeared to be absorbed in some silly antic of Deborah Bowden's.

  Of course, Melissa admitted guiltily to herself, she hadn't helped matters either by letting Latimer attach himself to her side. But what else could I do? If my husband is going to be off dancing attendance on some other woman, shouldn't I be allowed to amuse myself with a handsome man? The problem was that Melissa was not at all amused by Latimer and that every moment she spent in his company was dreadful. Not that he forced himself on her—he always acted scrupulously polite—but whenever she was with him, she was always miserably conscious of the fact that it was because of his sister that she even tolerated his company and that if Dominic had not left her side to be led around by Deborah, she would have nothing to do with Julius Latimer.

  Her belief that Dominic might not be as black as Josh and Latimer had painted him had taken a beating these past few weeks, but she clung stubbornly to the notion that she might have condemned him unfairly. This was hard to do when she saw him smiling besottedly into Deborah's animated features, and while her earlier confidence was somewhat eroded, she was still determined to talk to Josh about Dominic. She had made several attempts to do so recently, but Josh, like Dominic, had been taken up with affairs relevant to the war and had been absent from Oak Hollow those times that she had called to see him.

  Royce, too, had proved elusive, and her attempts to have any sort of private conversation with him were always brought to an abrupt end when he hastily recalled an appointment for which he was late. If she had not known better, she would have thought that Royce was avoiding her. But why would Royce suddenly become so... uneasy in her company? What did he have to hide?

  Frustration made her blunter than she would normally have been, and one afternoon in early October, Royce called unexpectedly to find Dominic gone from the house, and was about to ride away when Melissa stopped him. "Don't go! I wish to talk to you."

  A wary expression flitted across Royce's handsome face, and edging toward the door, he said politely, "Another time, my dear. I really must be on my way."

  But Melissa was not to be denied. Catching Royce's arm, she looked up at him and in a tone of voice halfway between pleading and demanding, she said, "Royce, your errand cannot be that urgent—I must talk to you."

  He might have made good his escape, except her pale features and the faint bluish circles under her eyes that clearly spoke of sleepless nights gave him pause. He, more than any other outsider, knew of the difficulties Melissa was facing in her marriage. He suspected that, while the marriage might not have been a love match to begin with, neither Dominic nor Melissa was as indifferent to the other as either might pretend. In fact, he would have wagered a very large sum on the notion that they were helplessly in love with each other. Which he found rather amusing, especially with the added ingredient of Dominic's involvement with Deborah injected into the already tense situation. And though he had no qualms about watching Dominic wiggle and squirm in the quagmire created by Jason's request, figuring that Dominic was capable of fending for himself, he was not immune to the suffering of a cousin for whom he had a great deal of fondness. Up until this moment, he had found the entire episode highly entertaining, especially observing Dominic trying to woo a wife and keep a grasping harpy like Deborah Bowden on convivial terms at the same time, but the unhappiness in Melissa's eyes lessened his enjoyment considerably and, his hard face softening, he capitulated to her request, saying, "If you insist, my dear."

  Allowing Melissa to guide him to the salon, he seated himself next to her on the sofa, and taking one of her hands in his, dropped a fond kiss on the soft skin. Meeting her troubled gaze, he asked, "What is it that is causing you such distress?"

  Her sweet mouth twisted. "Is it so obvious? I thought that I was hiding it rather well."

  "Not from me," he replied quietly, and not relishing his own predicament, he plunged right into the speech. "I suppose it is Dominic and his flirtation with Deborah Bowden? I told you the night of your dinner party that you had nothing to fear from that creature."

  "Then why does Dominic let her fawn all over him?" Melissa fairly wailed, all her fears and uncertainties billowing up inside her.

  "Because he must!" Royce replied baldly, not liking his role at all.

  Melissa's eyes widened, her confusion apparent. "Because he must," she repeated blankly. "Why? What sort of hold does she have over him?"

  Royce sighed. "She doesn't have any hold at all over your husband, and if you weren't such an innocent, you would know that he would like nothing better than to throttle the clinging Lady Bowden and never stray from your side again."

  Her eyes fixed on his with painful intensity. "How do you know that?" she asked huskily. "He d-d-didn't want to marry me—you know that your father forced us to wed." She swallowed with difficulty. "A-a-and L-L-Lady Deborah is very beautiful and sophisticated."

  "And a more conniving, self-centered little bitch would be hard to find!" Royce growled, his contempt and dislike of Lady Bowden more than obvious.

  Since Royce had always acted in public as if he, too, found Deborah charming, Melissa w
as even more bewildered by his words. "I thought that you were as enamored as Zachary... and Dominic by her."

  "Good God, no!" Royce burst out. "I've never liked her—not even in Dominic's salad days when he was foolish enough to think, at least for a little while, that he might be in love with her. To anyone with a normal amount of common sense and not blinded by her pretty face, it is apparent that she is as dangerous and unprincipled as her brother."

  "You don't like Julius either?" Melissa asked, astonished. "Why, Royce, you are with him all the time! At every party I have been to lately, you and Julius are inseparable... except when Julius is with me."

  "And I've been meaning to talk to you about that, sweetheart," Royce began with an ominous glint in his golden-brown eyes. "What the hell are you playing at by encouraging that bounder's attentions?"

  Her temper rising, Melissa glared at her cousin. Stiffly she said, "If Dominic feels it is acceptable to chase after another woman, I see no reason why I cannot have a, er, friendship with a gentleman!"

  "Well, for God's sake, at least choose a gentleman," Royce said irascibly, "and not that cad!"

  There were several glaring inconsistencies in Royce's statements. Her eyes narrowed, Melissa asked,, "If he is such a bounder and a cad, why are you such good friends with him?"

  It suddenly occurred to Royce that he was on the point of revealing far more than was necessary for Melissa to know. He had only meant to comfort her, not to divulge information that might put her in danger. Unlike Dominic, Royce knew very well that Melissa could keep her mouth shut, and under different circumstances he would not have hesitated to tell her everything. But Melissa was also reckless and adventuresome, and he shuddered to think of what might happen if she decided to help in the delicate situation. That she would want to help, would in fact try her own hand at spying, he had little doubt, memories of their childhood and certain dangerous pastimes that they had undertaken together in their youth flashing across his mind. No. He could say nothing more and must regain some of the ground that he had lost. Besides, he decided virtuously, it was up to Dominic to explain matters to Melissa—he would be infringing on a husband's rights if he were to take Melissa into his confidence. That he was acting a bit cravenly, he was very well aware, but knowing Melissa's temper and guessing how she would react to the role in which they had cast her, Royce felt no compunction about his actions. Let Dominic handle his own wife, he concluded—far be it for a mere cousin to intrude.

  Having come to that decision, he promptly carried their discussion back into Melissa's camp. Putting on his sternest face, he said in a righteous manner that would have done Josh proud, "It is not for you to question my acquaintances. And you are not such a goose that you don't know that a gentleman may have several, ah, friends whom he would never introduce to the females of his family."

  "Stuff and nonsense," Melissa retorted, her eyes gleaming with indignation. "Latimer is not some back-alley rogue you just happened to meet one night when you were out carousing. He is accepted everywhere, and there are many respectable people in the community who find his company, and that of his sister, highly agreeable. So I ask you again—why do you call him a cad but act his friend?"

  Irritably Royce wished that Melissa was not quite so observant, and he knew that he must divert her attention or she was going to guess what he and Dominic were doing. And if it weren't for his certainty that she would want to be included in the charade, he wouldn't have minded in the least, but thinking of Latimer and visualizing what the Englishman might do if Melissa started asking some pointed questions made Royce exceedingly uneasy.

  His handsome features arranged in a most arrogant expression, Royce said coldly, "What I may or may not do is none of your business. I am warning you that Latimer is not the gentleman he appears to be and that you would be wise to find someone else on whom to practice your wiles."

  It was at times like this that Melissa longed fiercely for the freedom of childhood. Her hands were clenched into two respectable little fists, and she would have enjoyed nothing better than blackening Royce's eyes as she had once done when they were children and he had enraged her in just this same manner. Reminding herself forcibly that she was a grown woman, a married lady now, she contented herself with glaring at him and saying in a stiff voice, "I see that we have nothing else to say to one another. I apologize for detaining you." Turning her back on him, trying to hide both the hurt and the rage that his words gave her, she added, "I'm sure that you can find your way out."

  Royce hesitated a second, hating the situation and cursing his own ineptitude. He had accomplished nothing but to hurt Melissa even more and to create a breach between them. His features softening, he took a step in her direction, saying in a coaxing tone, "Lissa, I never meant to cause harsh words between us, nor did I mean to wound you. Please, let us be friends again."

  It was difficult for Melissa not to yield to the pleading note in Royce's voice, but she was not going to pretend that everything was normal between them when it was obviously not. He was hiding something from her, she could sense it. But what? When he had first entered the room, he had been full of concern for her, but the moment she had mentioned Latimer's name his entire manner had changed. Latimer... Latimer and his sister seemed to arouse the strangest reactions in the men of her family of late. Even Zachary appeared to be besotted by Lady Bowden... but that was something else, and forcing her thoughts to the matter at hand, Melissa realized that Royce had become cold and forbidding only when she had homed in on the fact that he was saying one thing and acting another in connection with both Latimer and his sister. How very interesting. Aware that it would do her cause no good to remain estranged from Royce, she decided to accept his offer of peace.

  Facing him, she gave him a slight smile. "We shall always be friends, Royce—even when you infuriate me the most."

  He chuckled and dropped a brief kiss on her forehead. "That's my Lissa! And now, sweetheart, I really must be off." His face sobered and he muttered, "Lissa, don't worry about things. All this will end soon."

  With that he was gone, leaving Melissa staring blankly at the doorway through which he had disappeared, her thoughts traveling in precisely the direction he had not wanted. Royce did not like either of the Latimers, she thought slowly; didn't like them at all, but on the surface he pretended to find them very good company indeed. Why? Why did Royce keep saying that Dominic's flirtation meant nothing and yet Dominic seemed unable to resist Deborah's blatant lures? Could Dominic be playing the same mysterious game that Royce was with Latimer? Seeming to find Deborah attractive when in fact he did not? And, most curious of all, why would they be doing this?

  Melissa spent several hours puzzling over the contradictory behavior of both Royce and Dominic in connection with the English visitors, but she could come up with no satisfactory answers. And thinking about Lady Bowden brought to mind something that had been troubling her peripherally for some time: not only did Lady Bowden appear to have her claws in Dominic, but the older woman also seemed to have enamored Zachary.

  Since her marriage to Dominic, Melissa and Zachary had naturally not seen as much of each other as they had when living in the same house together, but brother and sister still managed to get together quite a bit. Either Zachary came calling or Melissa rode over to Willowglen to see him, and then there were the various social functions which they both attended. Not until this moment had Melissa actually realized how many times Deborah had been at Willowglen when she had called, nor how often Deborah had accompanied Zachary when he had come to visit her. In public, too, Deborah always seemed to be in Zachary's vicinity—except, Melissa admitted darkly, when the Englishwoman was hanging onto her husband! She supposed that she had been aware of Deborah's presence in Zachary's life, but she hadn't stopped to consider what it might mean.

  Pushing aside for a little while the dilemma of Dominic and Deborah, she speculated about that same lady's relationship with her brother, not liking some of her conclusions. Lady Bowde
n, she acknowledged uneasily, had never paid Zachary the least heed until the Seymour fortunes had changed and Zachary had come into his share of the trust. No, that wasn't true, she decided with a frown. It had been after her marriage to Dominic.... Perhaps, when Deborah had realized that one rich gentleman was beyond her grasp, she had set her sights on another? A younger, more malleable man? A mere boy to be mesmerized and dazzled by the ripe beauty of an older woman?

  Greatly disturbed by her train of thought, Melissa paced the confines of the small salon, hoping that her own dislike of Deborah was at the root of these unpleasant speculations. But she could not shake the sensation that while she had been absorbed in her troubles with Dominic, she had been overlooking the danger Deborah might present to Zachary's young heart. Trying to tell herself that she was just looking for another reason to mistrust Deborah, Melissa attempted to push away the ugly thoughts that were circling through her mind, but though she halfheartedly convinced herself that she was being silly, there were two questions that would not go away. Was Deborah only amusing herself at Zachary's expense? Or did she have a deeper motive for displaying a predilection for his company?

  Chapter 24

  Seated in the parlor of the handsome house he had leased on the outskirts of Baton Rouge, Julius Latimer was staring at his sister, wondering much the same thing. His eyes narrowed and watchful, he studied Deborah for several long moments as she fiddled with her cup of tea, pretending not to be aware of his scrutiny.