Aubrey barked a laugh and snaked his arm around her waist to pull her firmly against his side. “Whereas it takes a true fool to lay claim to her once the frivolity has been stripped away.”
“Your virtues are showing again,” Barbara told him with a chuckle.
Her father shook his head. “I’ll expect both of you at the breakfast table shortly, but I know when three is too many, and I think you deserve a moment to celebrate having captured a wild heart, St. Vincent.”
“You might as well call me by my first name. I plan to be part of your family for a long while.” Though Aubrey spoke to her father, his gaze stayed linked with hers.
The door closed with a solid thump as her father left, given them privacy. Barbara hardly noticed as Aubrey bent to claim her lips once more. Georgiana had been right after all. Kisses were wonderful things, and she planned to enjoy her full share.
A Note to Readers
Thank you for reading A Country Masquerade. I hope you have enjoyed the story and spending time with the characters old and new to the Uncommon Lords and Ladies series. Many will find themselves starring in later works, beginning with Barbara’s cousin Georgiana who has claimed the third book.
Would you like to know when my next book is available? You can sign up for my newsletter at http://margaretmcgaffeyfisk.com to be kept up to date with my publishing or to receive release announcements only.
Can I enlist your help in spreading the word about A Country Masquerade? The best way to do so is through writing a short book review and posting it on online retailers, reader sites, and/or on your blog. I appreciate all reviews. All I ask is you give your honest opinion.
If you’d like to read excerpts from Beneath the Mask, the first book in Uncommon Lords and Ladies, and Safe Haven, a steampunk sweet romance, please continue reading.
EXCERPT
BENEATH THE MASK
Book One of Uncommon Lords and Ladies
In the flash and glitter of the Regency Era, a young noblewoman craves to dance not in the ballroom but on stage, blending music, movement, and soul. Will these scandalous dreams destroy her family, or gain her a loving patron?
So? Which one is it?”
Jasper turned toward his friend and shot Aubrey a heated look. “I think Baker’s boy has the best whip hand I’ve seen for a while. Thatcher, though, can take corners with no regard for the innocent traffic. That alone will shave minutes from his time.”
Aubrey jerked the monocle out of Jasper’s hand. “You know full well that’s not what I’m talking about. Your mother gave you a month to choose a bride, and today’s your last day. Who have you chosen?”
Pushing to his feet, Jasper tossed down enough to cover their light lunch, suddenly having lost interest in seeing the end of the cart race. “What does it matter? They’re all much the same. Not a single real thought to spare among them. The same teachers, the same dressmakers…they are block prints on the fabric of my life.”
Aubrey wisely kept silent as they strode through the streets of London, passing the places frequented by their mothers and heading for those where they’d best not be identified by any of the female persuasion.
Finally, Jasper stopped outside a pub catering mostly to sailors fresh off the naval boats. “I couldn’t choose,” he said, the irritation clear in his voice. “I couldn’t debase myself further by actually considering any of them.”
“You’re letting your mother choose a wife?” Aubrey asked, horrified. “This is the woman you’ll spend the rest of your life with. Can’t you find the slightest interest?”
Jasper reached out to clasp his friend’s shoulder. “If I do this to please my mother, let her be pleased. If I chose one of them and she turned out to be a hag, I’d have no one to blame but myself.”
A surprised laugh burst from Aubrey as he shook his head. “You’re an original, Jasper. Never would have thought it out that way, but you’re right. She turns out horrible, and you’ll be able to wind your mother around your little pinkie. I can see you now, ‘I did it all for you, Mother, and see what I’m left with?’”
Pivoting Aubrey so he could push his friend through the door, Jasper grinned. “It’s not like I’ll see much of her anyway. I’ll just whelp a child or two on her and spend my days here in London while she lords over one of my grand properties. We may not have the fancy titles, but my family is loaded.”
“A caution, my friend. Your mother’s like as not to choose some impoverished earl or duke to bind to the family. I can see her now, going over huge lists to find the candidates who have more title than coin. Oh, and don’t forget, those without male line entitlements. If she can’t raise her own standing or yours, she’ll be sure to raise that of your get. Just imagine when your lady’s father passes away and your oldest son outranks you.”
Jasper signaled the barkeep. “Two porter, my good man,” he called before answering Aubrey. “Does it matter? Her title means nothing once she’s my wife. I will have charge of her and all her doings. She’ll stay in the country as I will it, and the children with her.”
Aubrey looked dubious, but said nothing further as their tankards arrived.
“Just think,” Jasper added, laughter gleaming in his eyes, “You’re next for the marriage bed. I’m sure your mum could happily find some chit to slip between your sheets.”
Choking on his stout, Aubrey glared at Jasper. “I’ll do the choosing,” he finally gasped out. “I’m not leaving my future to chance as you seem willing to do.”
Jasper took a long draw of his beer then wiped the foam from his upper lip. “At least you have a year or two before your mission is proved foolhardy. I tell you, there are no women among that gaggle of girls. Enjoy what time you have of freedom.”
The door slammed open and a group of seamen staggered through the entrance, this obviously not the first stop in their day’s revelry.
“Come, let’s go find a more hospitable location to take our rest.” Jasper strolled to the bar to pay his bill, unwilling to keep a tab at every place he went like most of his class. The smell of sea salt only brought back memories of what he could have been had either of his brothers survived to sire an heir. He’d been promised the Royal Navy since he wore short pants, but fate had a way of changing things.
“There’s a dance troupe not far from here,” Aubrey offered. “I’ve heard they’re solid if not exciting.”
Jasper forced his mouth to smile. “Solid describes much of my sorry life now. I might as well add another to the mix. It’ll give us something to pass the time until we head to White’s to check the results and collect my winnings.”
Aubrey punched Jasper in the shoulder. “You’re so sure of winning?”
“I always do.”
A wave of his hand and a hackney pulled up next to them. “Give him the directions, Aubrey, and we’ll go see these solid dancers of yours.”
“HE’S FROM A GOOD family with a title even if you’ll bring in a stronger one. Lord Pendleton is a baron, not some tradesman buying his way into nobility.”
Daphne slipped into the sitting room, wondering how to ask her mother to let her dance. She’d waited for the best moment to raise it, but Monsieur Henre was due back this very day, and she wanted to be able to tell him so. At least they seemed happy now with the question of Grace’s marriage resolved.
“And money, dear, don’t forget his family properties are exceedingly well managed. The boy goes wherever he likes just so the men can badger him about husbandry and farming. I’ll be taking him around our properties myself.”
Their mother laughed, gently stroking Grace’s arm. “She doesn’t care about husbandry, my love. She cares about the husband she’ll spend the rest of her life with.”
“And titles make the man?” their father asked in a gruff voice.
Rising from the settee, Lady Scarborough wrapped her arm through his. “Of course, my love. Titles are the icing on a delicious snack cake. If you hadn’t a title to speak of, my parents would never have
let me meet you, much less marry, and see how that turned out.”
He patted her on the cheek, his smile so full of love, Daphne almost envied them, but she had more important things to do with her life than marry well.
“Exactly my point, dearest. We have to make sure the boy meets our criteria and then love will come in time.”
“He’s a man, not a boy,” Grace muttered, her gaze modestly entangled with her twisting fingers.
Both parents turned to stare at their eldest daughter, surprise painted on their faces.
“How would you know?” her mother asked.
Grace looked up, her smile a fragile thing to see. “I’ve seen him at the Mackeley’s ball. He didn’t seem all that interested in any of us. I wonder that he wants to marry at all.”
“Oh posh, no young man wants to be married. They don’t understand just how wonderful it is until they experience the bliss themselves. Don’t give it a second thought.” Mother came to sit next to Grace again, pulling her eldest daughter’s hands into her lap. “They see all they’ll lose and none of what comes to them. Even my Thomas was reluctant at first, and see what we’ve become.” She sent their father a look.
Daphne felt the tension between them as easily as she’d felt the love. Grace worried them. So much depended on her sister marrying well, but they wanted her to be happy.
Her request no longer seemed favored, so Daphne rose, trying to slip out of the room while they hadn’t yet noticed her.
“Daphne?”
She froze as her father called her name.
“I hadn’t seen you there. Do you have something to tell us?” Her father tugged out his gold pocket watch and checked the time before looking toward her again.
Daphne squirmed a little, trying to come up with something else she could say instead of begging to be allowed to dance professionally.
Father laughed. “Out with it, my girl. Ask any boon you want on this day. With Grace’s future secure, there’s little I’d withhold.”
She moved to her father’s side, pulling him into a hug. “You are the best father in the world,” she whispered, meaning every word.
He put his hands on her shoulders and pushed her far enough away so he could meet her gaze. “Now I know something important is dancing around in your little head. Come on and tell your dear father. I never did like to wait on surprises.”
Daphne took a deep breath before speaking, dragging her courage about her. “Dancing is right. Monsieur Henre says I’m really good. I’m better than any of his other pupils.” The words burst out of her in a rush, then she paused, waiting to see their effect.
Her father mussed her hair and smiled. “As it should be when you do something you love. I’m glad you enjoy dancing so much, but you have to remember there’s more to life than just that.”
“Not for me,” she said, shaking her head. “I want to dance for always.” She twirled in a circle, showing them a bit of the routine she’d been practicing.
Catching her outstretched hand, her father moved her through the complicated steps of a line dance until they both sank into chairs, exhausted.
“She definitely gets the dancing from you, Thomas. I’ve never had quite the balance to pull it off.”
Too tired to move, he waved to Mother with a limp hand. “You have grace in other ways that make up for the dancing.”
“I had Grace some nineteen years ago. And now I’m planning to let her grow up.”
They all laughed at the wordplay as Grace rose to ring the servant’s bell for drinks.
Only when they’d sipped lemon tea and nibbled on cucumber sandwiches did Daphne remember her purpose in coming to this room. “Father,” she said, catching his attention. “I really am a fine dancer.”
He smiled. “I’m sure you are. As your mother said, you come by it honestly.”
“I could do so much more than be graceful at my sister’s wedding,” Daphne said, unsure how to ask.
“Oh, dear.” Lady Scarborough put down her cup and rushed across the room. “You don’t think we won’t take care of you as well, do you? I know it’s all been about Grace this season, but you’re growing up as well. Don’t think we haven’t noticed. Once Grace is settled, she and I will give you the best coming out ever seen. Won’t we, Grace?”
Her sister nodded, fingers tense around the handle of her teacup. “I’ll do whatever I can,” she murmured.
“There. You see? Nothing to worry about. You just keep up with your lessons, and we’ll find a man worthy of your love as soon as Grace is settled.”
Daphne clenched her fists, angry at their preoccupation. “I don’t want to marry,” she declared. “I want to perform.”
The room fell silent. Even Grace seemed stunned by her pronouncement.
Daphne wished the words unsaid, ashamed not of their content but of how she’d offered them. “Monsieur Henre says I’m good enough. He says I’m as good if not better than the dancers in his troupe.”
She leapt out of her chair and went down on her knees before her father. “If you would just give your blessing, I could dance for real. I could become famous.”
“Get up off the floor,” her mother demanded. “More like infamous. What do you think the ton would say if my daughter joined the performers?” The way she said the last word made it sound dirty.
Daphne got up, but only to round on her mother. “They’re nothing more than hardworking artists. You wouldn’t condemn a poet for living for his art. Why keep me from mine?”
“Daphne Louise, you will respect your mother and honor her word. You are not to make a spectacle of yourself in front of strangers. It’s not fitting.”
She quailed a bit under her father’s firm stare, but tried to stand her ground.
“I had no idea what foolish ideas that Frenchman instilled in her, Thomas. I’ll not have him in this house again.”
Daphne turned to face her mother, horrified. “You can’t,” she wailed. “I’ll do anything.”
Her father took hold of Daphne’s shoulders and turned her back to face him. “You’re a young woman now. Another year and your mind will be filled with thoughts of a husband and children. I take full responsibility for letting it go this far, but with delaying your coming out for Grace, and your mother being so busy, it seemed a fair exchange at the time. I should have paid more attention when I knew you mastered the formal dances, along with your other studies, long ago.” He sighed and shook his head. “It’s time to grow up, my dear. To take on adult interests. I know it seems harsh now, but you’ll come to understand once you’re out in society. Some things are just never done.”
She raised trembling fingers to her mouth, water gathering in her eyes as her world tore apart. “I’ll never understand,” she cried. “Never.”
Daphne pulled free of her father’s hold and raced through their townhouse until she reached the nursery that had been her home every time they’d come up to London. She threw herself down onto her bed and stared blind-eyed at the ceiling. Never before had she felt so angry, so lost.
Purchase Beneath the Mask at your preferred local or online store.
Excerpt
SAFE HAVEN
A Victorian Steampunk Sweet Romance
Sworn to protect her sister from unjust laws in steam-driven Victorian England, Lily’s wayward heart settles on the one man she cannot have: a police officer.
So, Madam, can you describe the mechanical?”
Henry Stapleton tapped his charcoal stick against a piece of paper, keeping the notebook angled away from the housekeeper. He’d learned, when he first joined the police force, where his uniform might not win him answers, the appearance of writing would.
After all, the staff had been trained for generations to bow before nobility, and only the upper class could write.
The housekeeper wrung her hands so strongly he feared she’d strip the flesh from her bones. “He’ll blame us, Sir. I swear none of the staff put a hand on the cursed thing. Only brings the attention
of Naturals, it does, having those contraptions in the house.”
She leaned in close to add, “He thinks it makes ‘im big. Important like. He goes showing it off to everyone. No wonder it’s gone missing.” She glanced around, features pinched as though worried she’d been overheard.
Henry swallowed a sigh. He’d joined the police force to help people in need, not track down rich men’s toys. Some family legacy he followed. Though if it took the edge of fear from this woman and the rest of her staff, at least he’d have accomplished something.
Their master should be whipped for how he clearly treated those in his employ, but it wouldn’t happen. The laws had yet to catch up to this new world where blacksmiths could put out steam-driven mechanicals and the new industry raised country merchants to the big houses. His father would have rejoiced to see this come about in his lifetime, if he’d lived to see it, without noticing the troubles it brought.
“Don’t you worry, Madam. We’ll find your master’s mechanical, and who’s behind this rash of thefts.”
“Thank you, Officer Henry. Thank you.” She grabbed his hand and clutched it between her pillow breasts. “I can’t tell you how much safer we feel with you about.”
“Just doing my job.” Henry extracted the hand and touched the rim of his top hat in a half salute. “I’d best get back to my team.”
He’d gained a reputation as the voice for the small folk despite his bloodline, but hearing her, a soul would think he did so much more than take their word as evidence. His grandfather had hidden political fugitives. His father helped bring about laws to protect the weak. Just listening seemed too little an action to win such approval.
He turned away before his frustration caused him to lash out at the one who didn’t deserve it, but she caught hold of his arm and pulled him back.
“You said a rash of thefts, Officer Henry. You don’t think…” Her fingers tightened even more as she failed to bring forth the rest of the question.
A Country Masquerade Page 26
