Midnight Masquerade

by Shirlee Busbee

  Latimer had just started to relax, but at the news that Dominic would be in New Orleans, he felt his nerves stretch, the sensation of being a very small mouse trapped in the claws of a very dangerous cat almost overpowering. And his uneasiness was not quelled in the least when Zachary said with astonishment, "Lissa never said anything about going to New Orleans."

  His eyes never leaving Latimer's face, Dominic said easily, "I just now thought of it—it will be a surprise for her."

  Latimer did not misunderstand him and, his voice tight, he asked, "It is decided, then? I shall pay you in New Orleans?"

  Having grown bored with the game, Dominic sat up in his chair and said briskly, "Yes, of course, but I suggest we name a date for the payment. It is not wise to let these things drag on."

  "Very well," Latimer replied. "Shall we say the first of December, in New Orleans?"

  "Splendid," Dominic said heartily.

  Longing to throttle him, Latimer sent Dominic a false smile and rose to his feet. He hesitated a moment before saying diffidently, "I would appreciate it if no word of what was discussed here this afternoon was bandied about."

  "Naturally. It would be most ungentlemanly of us to discuss your private affairs," Dominic agreed dryly.

  Mr. Smithfield cleared his throat. "Mr. Slade, do you wish these funds deposited in your current account?"

  His part in the proceedings done with, Latimer was on the point of departing when Dominic said, "Stay, Latimer—don't you want to know where your money is going?"

  Hardly able to conceal the rage that twisted within him, Latimer swung back to glare at Dominic. "I hardly think it matters to me anymore, now that the money is no longer mine."

  Dominic smiled at him. "Listen and see if you don't change your mind."

  His eyes never leaving Latimer's face, Dominic said, "I want you to open a new account, Mr. Smithfield, and put all of the money from Mr. Latimer in it. The account will be in my wife's name alone... all of this money will be hers. A repayment of sorts."

  A muscle twitched in Latimer's hard cheek as enlightenment dawned, and the blue eyes ablaze with rage, he took an angry step forward. "You know!" he hissed, all the hatred he felt for Dominic plain to see.

  Dominic smiled like a satisfied tiger. "Precisely."

  Unable to maintain even a semblance of a polite facade, Latimer snarled, "You may have won this hand, Slade, but there will be another time, and then, by God, you'll pay for this!"

  Spinning on his heels, Latimer strode from the room, the door swinging shut behind him with an explosive bang. There was a moment of silence; then Mr. Smithfield exclaimed, "Upon my soul! I would never have thought that Mr. Latimer would behave in such a fashion. He always seemed such a gentleman."

  None of the other three men in the room made any comment and Mr. Smithfield returned to the business at hand. "If you wouldn't mind waiting a few minutes, I shall have all the papers drawn up for you."

  Dominic inclined his head and shortly thereafter he and the others took their leave from the banker. There was little conversation among the three men as they mounted their horses and began to ride away from town, but the last small wooden building had barely been passed before Royce demanded, "Would you mind telling me what the thunder that was all about? Ever since you arrived at the Norton place last night, I have had the most curious sensation of having walked into a play that had already gone two acts before I arrived!"

  Dominic grinned at him. "It is a private matter. One that involves a lady very dear to me, and it would be cavalier of me to discuss it with you." The gray eyes dancing with amusement, he added, "It is sufficient to say that I used the cards rather than the sword to extract my satisfaction... something I think will please the lady in question."

  Before Royce could utter the scathing comment that hovered on his lips, Zachary blurted out, "You overheard our conversation last night!"

  Dominic nodded, admitting, "Exactly. But you would do well to keep that information to yourself; in fact, forget the conversation ever took place."

  A note of long suffering obvious in his voice, Royce remarked, "Has no one ever told you that it is not polite to discuss secrets in front of someone else?" At the two broad grins that met his words, Royce muttered, "Oh, very well, don't tell me—I can figure out most of it myself! Keep your bloody secrets!"

  Royce looked so offended that the other two burst out laughing and a moment later, somewhat sheepishly, Royce joined them. Good humor restored among them, they took their leave of one another.

  Upon reaching the cottage, Dominic left his horse at the stable and with the new account book tucked securely in his waistcoat pocket, his step was light and eager as he bounded up the stairs to the gallery. Stopping at the house just long enough to warn the servants that he and Melissa were not to be disturbed, he went in search of his wife.

  The hammock, strung between two oak saplings, was situated in a quiet, shady nook some distance behind the cottage. Live oak trees draped with Spanish moss, and beech and elm trees festooned with red trumpet vines and sweetbrier, pressed close to the small clearing which contained the low-slung hammock. A faint breeze wafted the mingled scent of magnolia blossoms and yellow jasmine through the air as Dominic walked up to the brilliant blue hammock and glanced down at its occupant.

  Melissa was asleep, a small, leather-bound volume of sonnets lying on her breast. His face tender, Dominic stared at her features for several long moments, finally noting with pleasure that she had followed his request and had chosen to wear a new gown, a frothy confection of willow-green sarsenet trimmed with yards and yards of delicate, ecru-colored Mechlin lace. A smile of almost idiotic delight was on his face as his eyes traveled over her long, dark lashes, down the straight little nose to consider the soft, sweet mouth and stubborn chin. His wife, he thought with a mixture of astonishment and exultation. His dear, darling, gallant wife.

  Staring at her sleep-serene features, he wondered how he could ever have suspected that she was a scheming, greedy little jade out to trap a rich husband. The truth was so obvious once he put aside his outrage and wounded pride at finding himself drawn to her that he wondered how he could have avoided it for so long. A rueful smile curved his mouth. Pure, blind stubbornness, he admitted. That and perhaps resentment at the way she had tangled his emotions from the moment he had seen her. He had not wanted to fall in love, had never planned to marry, and yet the instant Melissa had come into his life, something deep within him had changed, but he had been too obstinate to recognize it for what it was. No longer, he vowed. She had become the most precious thing in the world to him and he would do nothing to jeopardize the powerful bond that existed between them, despite all the misunderstandings and mistrust.

  In one easy movement, Dominic knelt down beside the hammock, the gray eyes ardent and warm as they rested on Melissa's face, but the faint crackle of paper reminded him of how near he had come to never knowing the joy of loving her, and he frowned. If she had not made a mistake about the rooms that night at the inn, how very different their future might have been and how empty his life would be without her in it. He could almost thank Latimer for being instrumental in driving Melissa into his arms. Almost. The rage he had experienced when he had learned of Latimer's perfidious bargain gusted through him, and his expression turned grim and forbidding. Unconsciously the fingers of one hand tightened about the curls that lay so near her cheek.

  Dominic's grip on her hair was unknowingly painful and Melissa stirred, her eyes opening as she became aware of her surroundings. Seeing Dominic's dark, angry face so close to hers, still only half awake, Melissa recoiled from him, giving a soft, startled gasp as she did so.

  Remorseful at having frightened her, Dominic loosened his grip on her hair and his expression became endearingly contrite. "Forgive me. I did not mean to frighten you."

  Warily Melissa regarded him, not quite having made up her mind how to deal with him when they were finally alone. She was still angry and distressed by the knowled
ge that he had thought nothing of remaining out all night gaming, especially since she had spent that same night weaving wildly romantic dreams about him. She had whiled away the hours since they had last met dithering between treating him with cool indifference or demanding furiously to know what he meant by treating her in such a disgraceful manner. A womanizer was bad enough, but did he have to add gaming to his sins?

  Calling herself all kinds of a fool, Melissa had reluctantly dressed with care for their meeting this afternoon and had dutifully, if truculently, arrived at the spot he had indicated with time to spare. The afternoon had been unusually warm, and despite the turmoil in her mind, lulled by the droning sound of bees, she had dropped off to sleep.

  She had been enjoying a very pleasant dream in which Dominic swore undying love for her, begging abjectly for her to forgive him, when she had awakened to find the object of her dreams, instead of gazing besottedly at her, wearing a very unfriendly expression indeed.

  Before she could speak, Dominic smiled at her, his demeanor changing in a moment, becoming gratifyingly similar to her dream. Thinking that she had never looked lovelier with her hair attractively tousled about her face and her cheeks flushed from sleep, he murmured, "Have you been waiting very long for me?"

  His eyes moved caressingly over her face and traitorously, Melissa felt her heart quicken its pace. Feeling at a distinct disadvantage lying in the hammock, she started to sit up, but Dominic gently pushed her back. "Stay," he said softly. "You present a charming picture just as you are... the only thing that could be improved upon would be me lying by your side."

  She wanted to be angry with him, or at the very least, aloof and disdainful, but as she looked at him, seeing the dark circles under his eyes and the faint lines of weariness that still marred his handsome face, something melted inside her. Hating herself for being a spineless goose, she muttered with less heat than she had planned, "If you would stay home nights instead of gallivanting all over the place..."

  "Are you very angry with me, Lissa?" he asked quietly, one hand reaching for hers. His warm fingers closed around her hand. "You have every right to be, but there was something that I had to do and it took me much longer than I had planned. As I told you this morning, I do not make it a habit to be out at all hours of the night." He grinned wryly. "There was a time in my salad days when such conduct was common, but no longer..."

  Not wanting to let him off too easily, yet unable to sustain any real fury, she managed to say, "Well, you certainly have a peculiar way of revealing it."

  "I certainly do, don't I?" he replied with equanimity. Reaching into his waistcoat pocket, he dropped the small book onto her chest. Smiling at her, he murmured, "I hope that this will help redeem me in your eyes."

  Her puzzlement obvious, Melissa struggled to sit up, the hammock swinging wildly until Dominic steadied it. Sitting awkwardly in the middle of the hammock, a frown between her eyebrows, she stared at the book. It made no sense at first, being simply an acknowledgment that an account in her name alone had been opened and that the sum of thirty-five thousand dollars had been deposited in it. Having no idea where the money had come from, Melissa, not unnaturally, assumed that it was Dominic's money and that he was attempting to placate her by giving her money.

  Insulted, the topaz eyes glittering with fury, she glared at him and spat, "How dare you treat me in this manner! Do you think that mere money can buy you anything you wish? That every time you treat me in an insulting and callous manner, you have only to bestow a gift upon me for me to turn a blind eye to your scandalous conduct? How dare you!" Her voice was shaking with rage as she finished speaking the last words, and looking very much like a wrathful Amazon, the tawny hair fairly bristling with anger and the golden-brown eyes spitting fire, she threw the bankbook in Dominic's face. "Keep your damned money! I never wanted your money, you stupid jackass!"

  Realizing instantly where he had gone astray, Dominic caught her shoulders in his hands. When she tried to throw off his hold, his grip tightened and he shook her gently. "Lissa, the money isn't mine," he said. "It's Latimer's. I spent last night, coldly and calculatingly, winning it from him—for you. It seemed simpler than killing him, and since you seemed so determined to keep all of us males from the dueling field, it was the only solution. That is why I was out all night."

  Astonishment held her motionless. "Latimer's?" she repeated stupidly. "Why would you...?" Comprehension struck her and her face changed ludicrously, her eyes widening and her mouth falling open. For a long moment, she looked into his dark, smiling face, almost unable to believe the warm light she saw shining in the gray eyes. "You overheard me talking to Zachary last night," she finally said.

  Dominic nodded. "Yes, I admit that I eavesdropped shamelessly on your conversation, and while I would normally condemn such practice, I cannot say that I am the least bit remorseful over my actions." His voice dropped to a low, intimate drawl. "How else would I have learned that my bride, who I thought had neatly trapped me into marriage for what it would bring her, had been the innocent victim of an unscrupulous villain? That it was an accident that you were in my rooms that night. That it was a frantic attempt to save your home and honor which compelled you to make me that ridiculous offer for Folly. That instead of being a scheming, greedy, little harpy, you were in fact a gallant, stubborn, virtuous, wayward, maddening darling!"

  Suddenly shy, but quite eager for this most interesting conversation to continue, Melissa fastened her eyes on his neatly arranged cravat, her hands playing with the lapel of his jacket as she inquired, "Did you really think that I had married you solely for your money?"

  "Hmm," he muttered as his lips caressed the curls near her temple. "Perhaps at first." Feeling her stiffen, he added hastily, "But only for a very short time." A wry note in his voice, he added, "It soon became apparent to me that while you liked the clothing and gifts I gave you, you would have been perfectly content without them. It puzzled me for quite some time. I couldn't understand why, having gone to such lengths to trap me into marriage, you showed no inclination to enjoy the fruits of your efforts."

  Her arms crept around his neck. "It wasn't because of your money that I married you," Melissa whispered.

  "I'm aware of that now... and while it is regrettable that Josh used Zachary as a means to compel you to marry me, again I cannot say that I feel the least shred of remorse that he did so." Feathering soft little kisses along her jawline, he muttered, "I am quite a reprehensible fellow where you are concerned."

  Thinking foggily that he should not take all the blame for their misunderstandings and remembering certain incidents that showed her in a less-than-complimentary light, she snuggled even closer to him and confessed, "I am at fault too. There have been times when I have used you shamefully." Shyly she admitted, "I did not mean to send you from my bed so cruelly on our wedding night. I have regretted it terribly, but I was so confused and I feared that—"

  She stopped abruptly, realizing that she had been on the point of declaring how desperately she longed for him to love her. She wasn't confident enough of his feelings to take such a bold step. Even though it was gratifyingly apparent that he felt very strongly about her and that he no longer seemed to mind the fact that he had been forced to marry her, it did not mean that he loved her. Nor, during all of this delightful conversation, had the vexing, painful question of his involvement with Deborah Bowden been resolved or mentioned.

  Since Deborah Bowden was the last person on Dominic's mind, he didn't connect Melissa's sudden silence with that lady. He had been held too spellbound by Melissa's fascinating disclosures to think of anything but how much he adored her and, enchanted by her words, he had all he could do to keep himself from sweeping her into his arms and fervently proclaiming his love for her. But he was intensely curious about what she had not said, and so, pressing tiny, ravishingly sweet kisses at the corners of her mouth, he coaxed, "You feared that...?"

  Melissa was melting into his arms, her cheek against his, and Do
minic was positive that his heart had stopped beating while he waited breathlessly for her next words. Unfortunately, it was not Melissa's soft voice that broke the silence, but Josh's hearty tones as he entered the clearing and boomed out, "Ah, here you are! Been looking all over for you. Servants said you weren't to be interrupted, but I knew you wouldn't mind seeing me. Especially since I have such good news!"

  Chapter 27

  Dominic did mind. Quite a lot, as a matter of fact. Suppressing an urge to throttle Josh, he gently put Melissa from him, stood up and turned around. Forcing himself to act civilly, he inquired with far less interest than he might have shown at another time, "What good news, Josh?"

  His genial features fairly beaming, his hands robbing together with childlike glee, Josh said jubilantly, "Ships, my good man! Ships! Two of 'em, in fact!"

  While Dominic looked confused, Melissa rose gracefully from the hammock, knowing exactly what her uncle was referring to, and sent him a delighted smile. "They got through the blockade?" At Josh's pleased nod, she rushed up to him and flung her arms around his neck, still clutching the bankbook Dominic had given back to her. "Oh, Uncle Josh! I am so happy for you! I know how very much you have wanted this to happen."

  "Can't deny that, m'dear!" Josh agreed, nodding his head several times. "Got word this afternoon from New Orleans. My agent says that with the British blockade keeping so many ships from port, these two cargoes will fetch a fortune!"

  Smiling at him, Melissa patted his arm. "I told you not to worry, that if you would just be patient all your worries would be resolved." And though she was very happy for Josh, she could not help but recall how determined he had been to gain the money from the trust left by her grandfather... at her expense. She no longer resented the fact that he had forced her to marry Dominic, but Josh's news clearly illustrated what she had known all along—sooner or later his fortunes would right themselves, and if she had married any of the many suitors he had pushed her way to ease his momentary crisis, in the end her sacrifice would have been for naught. It was a sobering thought, but she did not dwell on it. She was married to the man she loved, and if Josh had engineered it for all the wrong reasons, it no longer mattered. She could not help teasing him just a little, though. With a twinkle in her eyes, she murmured, "You see, you didn't need the money from the trust after all. You might have sacrificed my happiness unnecessarily."