Midnight Masqerade

by Shirlee Busbee

  Her mind made up, she spent several more moments planning how to get into town undetected and into Latimer's room without causing a most horrifying scandal. It wouldn't do to contemplate what would happen if it were revealed that she had gone alone at night to a tavern and, even more shocking, had actually been in a man's room alone with him!

  Latimer had not stated any particular time this evening, and so she could ostensibly retire early to her room, slip out of the house and ride into town without anyone being the wiser. That part of her hastily concocted plan didn't worry her-it was getting into his room that gave her pause. She could hardly walk nonchalantly through the main area of the tavern! Then her face brightened as she remembered the outside staircase of the tavern. It had been constructed for precisely the reason Melissa needed it-to provide private access to the eight small rooms upstairs that were let out to boarders. She should have no trouble, she thought happily, in coming and going unseen.

  A pleased little smile on her face, she looked inside the old mahogany armoire that sat in one corner of her room. There were few gowns in it and certainly none of those were particularly striking. Her smile faded. She wanted to look her best when she faced Latimer, wanted him to un E

  derstand what he had lost. It wasn't very nice of her, but she not unnaturally wanted him to suffer a bit after all the anguish he had inflicted upon her. If she looked desirable when she told him just what she thought of his disgusting offer, well, so much the better.

  Her hand brushed across an older gown of ambercolored silk, and with quickening interest she drew it from the armoire. Trying it on, she glanced at herself in the cheval glass. It would do admirably, she thought as she took in the way the snug fit of the bodice forced her breasts to nearly spill out of the soft material. She had owned the gown for a long time-her father had brought it back from England-and though it was almost too small for her, she could not bring herself to discard it. The gown flattered her, drawing attention to her creamy shoulders and high bosom, the amber shade of silk giving her hair the look of warm honey and deepening the topaz glow of her eyes. She twirled before the cheval glass, enjoying the way the silken material flared out from the high waist, the full skirt billowing out around her. It might be old, it might be a bit tight, but this was the most attractive garment she owned and she would wear it tonight.

  Her plan proved lamentably easy, and her conscience pricked her at how concerned everyone had been when she had claimed a headache and retired early. With shaking fingers she had laid aside the ugly garment she had worn during the day and swiftly put on the amber silk gown. She gave her hair, one last brush, and then, putting on a worn hooded cloak of brown velvet, she opened her door and peeked down the long hallway. It was deserted.

  Quickly she made her way downstairs and outside, her heart beating uncomfortably fast. It took her but a moment to reach the stables and saddle one of the mares. Once she reached the main road, her heartbeat slowed and she took a deep breath of relief. She had done it! No one had seen her. Now for Latimer. . . .

  Arriving some while later in Baton Rouge, she kept to the shadows, terrified that someone might see her and recognize her. Fortunately, the tavern was set near the edge of town, and Melissa quickly guided her horse deeper into the darkness at the rear of the rambling, two-storied wooden building. Sliding from the mare, she hurriedly tied the animal to a nearby oak sapling and with nervous steps approached the tavern.

  Her heart had begun to pound painfully as she rounded the building and found the narrow staircase that led upstairs. It was one thing to contemplate confronting Latimer from the safety of her own home, and another to boldly march into his room. She hesitated, suddenly beset by the danger of what she was doing, as well as the impropriety. She very nearly turned back, but remembering the threat to Zack should Latimer come to Willowglen at an unseemly hour and in an ugly mood, she moved forward. No one would discover her, and it wouldn't be to Latimer's advantage for her presence here to become known. He would be labeled a blackguard of the worst kind, and she suspected rightly that he would prefer everyone to continue to think of him as "the charming Englishman."

  Bolstering her waning courage, she sped up the stairs before she could change her mind. The door creaked when she opened it and her heart nearly leaped from her breast. Her face hidden by the hood of her cloak, Melissa slipped into the dimly lit, narrow hallway. To her relief and delight, room number eight was the first doorway she came to, and whatever reservations she had, vanished. Righteous indignation surged through her when she considered what Latimer had tried to do to her, and with golden eyes flashing, she opened the door and sallied forth to do battle.

  To her dismay, the room was dark and empty. Rather taken aback, she stumbled inside, searching several minutes before she found a candle and lit it. In the flickering light she glanced around. It was a very small room, as were all the rooms at the tavern, these private chambers more resembling broom closets than actual bedrooms. But the bed was neatly made, a gaily colored quilt of yellowand-green covering it, and a rudely constructed pine chair and tiny candlestand had been added for some extra comfort.

  A bit deflated that her quarry was not in sight, Melissa gingerly set down the candle. Now that she was actually here, some of her nervousness was disappearing and her anger at Latimer's perfidious designs upon her virtue was growing. She paced the tiny confines of the room, going over the scathing words she would fling at Mr. Julius Latimer the moment he opened the door. But as time passed and there was no sign of him, she grew weary of her pacing, and she sat down on the pine chair, her hands clenched into fists in her lap as she continued to wait. She had no way of telling what time it was, but she realized that she had been here for quite a while and she began to wonder if she had misread Latimer's note. She had not brought it with her, but after mulling it over in her mind, she was positive she had not misunderstood him.

  The initial rage that had prompted her actions gradually faded as the hour grew later and later and Latimer still did not appear. A mighty yawn suddenly overtook her and she glanced at the bed with longing. How much later would Latimer be? she asked herself half angrily, half wearily. It occurred to her that he was doing this deliberatelyhoping, 'no doubt, that the long wait would be nerveracking and intimidating for her. She straightened her drooping shoulders. By Heaven! She'd show him that such petty tricks didn't affect her!

  But after another yawn escaped her, she decided it wouldn't hurt if she lay down upon the bed. She wouldn't fall asleep-she was too nervous and angry for that-but she could just rest her head for a few minutes. Convinced of the soundness of her thinking, using her cloak as a blanket, she lay down stiffly upon the bed. Without her even being aware of it, her eyelids closed and within minutes she was deeply asleep, her golden-brown hair splaying out from her head, the old cloak slipping down around her waist, revealing the sweet curve of her breasts as they surged up from the amber silk gown.

  Downstairs, in the main room of the tavern, Dominic, Royce and Josh were cozily seated at a rough oak table, enjoying the latest of several snifters of brandy that they had consumed this evening. After dinner at Oak Hollow, the three men had returned to the tavern to celebrate Dominic's purchase of Folly. Josh had been most pleased by this turn of events, even more so when it was revealed that Dominic would share the ownership with Melissa anything that bound Dominic to Melissa was fine with Josh! Of course, Dominic had had to bear a great many jocular comments from both of the Manchesters, as well as sly teasings about his "intentions" toward Melissa.

  Dominic had taken it all with his usual aplomb, but some of the remarks bit deep, making him wonder uneasily what his intentions toward the baffling Miss Seymour really were. But as the evening waned and he became increasingly mellow from the numerous snifters of brandy, he didn't really care that he might be marching inexorably down a road that he had sworn to avoid at all costs. Melissa fascinated him, he could not deny it, but why she fascinated him was almost more engrossing than the fact that she d
id! He could not explain his actions even to himself, and with a sigh, he pushed that particular puzzling aspect of the situation away, turning his wandering attention to what Royce was saying.

  "I cannot believe that she actually sold you the horse. Even half a horse!" Royce said disbelievingly.

  Dominic grinned at him. "Doubting my charm and grace with the ladies?"

  An answering grin on his face, Royce slowly shook his tawny head. "Never that!" he admitted with a laugh. "When you decide upon a course, there are few, male or female, who would deny you."

  "Perhaps," Dominic replied noncommittally. "But I can tell you that once I saw that horse I would have done anything within my power to own him. I was determined that, one way or another, your cousin was going to sell him to me."

  "But at that price!" Josh exclaimed. "I have heard that you are an excellent businessman, but I must confess," Josh continued with a waggish smile, "that I have serious doubts about your abilities to strike a hard bargain after this morning's work!"

  Dominic grimaced. He could not disagree with Joshhe had serious doubts about his own sanity of late! And as for what he'd done this morning, he had no answer or excuses. Shrugging his broad shoulders, he said dryly, "Be that as it may, I did accomplish what I set out to do."

  "Half of what you meant to do," Royce reminded him with a roguish gleam in his eyes.

  "Very well, half, but," Dominic said lightly, "who knows-I may not have to pay that amount in the end."

  It was an idle statement, uttered without thought or reason, but Josh pounced on it. "Eh?" he questioned. "And why is that? Got some other ideas about my niece?" Privately, Josh was of the opinion that this co-ownership of the horse smacked of an imminent proposal, and Dominic's careless remark only confirmed it. Of course young Slade wouldn't have to pay the full amount in the endnot if he married Melissa! Be glad to have him in the family. Just wish they'd get on with it!

  Royce wasn't overly concerned about Dominic's plans or lack of plans regarding Melissa, and leaning across the table, he demanded mockingly, "Where is that agreement you signed with Melissa today? I want to see with my own eyes proof that you did indeed strike that ridiculous bargain."

  "It's upstairs in my room. If you really want me to get it I shall, but I don't think it's necessary." Ruefully, he added, "I can assure you that I did strike that 'ridiculous bargain.' " He had not forgotten how obstinate Royce could be in his cups, and when Royce doggedly insisted that he wanted to see the agreement, Dominic meekly complied. Rising to his feet, he said, "Very well, I'll get it. Order us another round of brandies while I'm gone."

  A faintly cynical smile on his lips, he walked upstairs and down the hall to his room. He was already inside and reaching for his valise when he suddenly became conscious of the glow of the burning candle on the stand. Stiffening, he stared in bewilderment at the lovely creature sleeping in blissful abandonment on his bed. Hardly daring to believe what he was seeing, like a man in a daze, he slowly walked nearer, halting mere inches from the edge of the bed.

  Spellbound by her golden beauty in the dancing light of the candle, he stared down at the sleeping woman, his gaze wandering over the profusion of honey-colored hair that spread wildly across the quilt, before traveling down to the creamy expanse of silken flesh which spilled invit ingly out of the top of the gown. He couldn't seem to tear his eyes away from the gentle rise and fall of the woman's breasts, but finally, with an effort, he forced his lingering glance upward, past the firm chin and the full, tempting mouth, beyond the delightfully tip-tilted nose to the thick lashes that lay like black fans upon the delicate bones of her cheeks. She was utterly enchanting, he thought foggily, but what the hell was she doing in his bed?

  Part Two

  The Parson's Mousetrap

  Marriage, if one will face the truth, is an evil, but a necessary one.

  Unidentified minor fragment -Menander

  Chapter Eleven

  How LONG he stood there staring down at the unconsciously seductive form of the young woman on his bed, Dominic couldn't remember; he only knew that as the moments passed, he was increasingly aware of his body's instant response to her nearness. Desire, fierce and compelling, surged through his loins; visions of making love to her, of kissing those provocative lips, of removing the material that stretched across her bosom, jostled in his brain. The intensity of his reaction to the mere sight of this undeniably disarming creature reminded him forcibly that it had been weeks since he had last lain in the arms of a woman-and it also reminded him of the teasing he had taken from Royce about his chaste state.

  Enlightenment dawned and he chuckled softly. Of ' course-Royce had sent her here and then had cleverly manufactured a reason for him to return to his room to find this exquisite surprise. As he glanced again at the tempting curves plainly revealed by the tight, old-fashioned gown, sensual anticipation curled in his belly.

  A lazy smile on his mouth, he absentmindedly sat down on the pine chair and with all his thoughts on the sweet charms that he would soon enjoy, he removed his boots. The jacket followed, as did the pristine cravat and embroidered waistcoat, but then, too eager to complete his undressing, he approached the bed, wondering fleetingly where Royce had found such a beauty.

  It didn't really matter to him-she was here and he wanted her. Gently sinking down beside the sleeping woman, he nuzzled her neck and ear, one hand trailing across her shoulder. She smelled delicious, like sunshine and lavender, and he was amazed how potent an aphrodisiac such normal scents could be; hunger to know the delights of her body sent the blood thundering through his veins.

  When there was no response to his light touch, Dominic softly teased the lobe of her ear with his tongue and murmured, "Wake up, sleeping beauty."

  Dimly Melissa heard the words and struggled up through the layers of sleep that had overcome her. Slowly she became aware of her surroundings. She had been dreaming of Dominic, of Dominic kissing her, and when she opened her eyes and saw his face just above hers, it almost seemed like part of her dream. Her golden-brown eyes, drowsy and unknowingly seductive, widened slightly and a sleepy smile crossed her face. "You're here," she breathed huskily, still not fully awake.

  Dominic was thoroughly enchanted. Asleep she had been lovely, but awake ... His gray eyes, warm and caressing, traveled over her features, the tumbled goldenbrown curls, the silky black lashes and the slightly slanted topaz eyes. Awake she was undoubtedly the most bewitching woman he had ever seen, his gaze riveted on the soft, beguiling curve of her mouth. And yet as he stared at her, he was troubled by an elusive sensation of familiarity-as if he had seen her before and should know her. Wishing his head were clearer, that he had not drunk quite so many brandies this evening, he frowned. He couldn't have seen her before, he finally decided-he would have remembered her!

  Seeing his frown, Melissa lightly brushed back the lock of wavy black hair which persisted in falling across his forehead. "Is something wrong?" she asked, the remnants of her dream swirling hazily around in her brain.

  Dominic shook his head. "Not now," he muttered thickly and brought his mouth to hers.

  Sweet fire exploded in Melissa's body at the touch of his hungry lips, and with no will of her own, her arms went around his neck, pulling him closer to her. His kiss deepened and Melissa had no thought to deny him when his tongue sought entrance to her mouth, her lips opening eagerly for his possession.

  A groan of pleasure broke from Dominic and he tore his mouth from hers, pressing hot, tingling kisses down her neck as he said roughly, "God! you're a sorceressyou make me mad!"

  Feeling a little mad herself, a dreamy expression on her face, Melissa stroked his dark head, reveling in the sheer pleasure of touching him, of having him touch her. She didn't ever want to wake up from this blissful state, didn't want to open her eyes and discover that it was only her imagination. His searching lips found hers again and she ceased to think, conscious only of the taste and scent of him, of the sweet yearning that was building within her.r />
  Even when his hands deftly undid her gown and she felt the garment slip down around her waist, her chemise following, she was unable to believe that this was anything but a dream. And since it was a dream, she could do whatever she wanted, and that included touching him freely and without shame, her questing fingers undoing his white cotton shirt and touching his bare skin. It was exciting to feel the leap his heart gave as her hands wandered over him, exciting to touch his warm flesh, to explore the hard, muscled chest and to discover the stiffened nipples surrounded by the crisp black hair. It was even more thrilling to hear his low growl of delight when her hands boldly traveled lower, and her own heart thudded in her breast at her wanton behavior.

  His teeth gently caught her lower lip. "Don't!" he got out with an effort. "Don't tease me-I am too ready for you as it is."

  A catlike smile of satisfaction crossed Melissa's face and with a sigh she arched her body nearer, longing for him to touch her, to explore her as she was doing him. But when he accepted her blatant invitation and his warm hand closed around her breast, she was unprepared for the sharp shock of pleasure that flooded her body. Gently those knowing fingers pulled and kneaded her breast as Melissa lay there breathless and stunned by the erotic sensations that were being created by that simple act, her flesh seeming to surge into his hands, tendrils of sweet desire burn ing in her blood. And when his head lowered and his lips hungrily took one straining nipple into his mouth, his tongue curling urgently about it, she thought helplessly that nothing could ever feel as wonderful. But she had been wrong. When his teeth lightly rasped the swollen tips, a soft moan of pleasure escaped her. Gripped by halfexciting, half-frightening emotions, she clenched his dark hair, wanting more and yet not knowing what it was she sought. She had never felt this way before, had never believed the depth of pleasure and yearning that could be aroused so easily, so swiftly, by a man's touch. There was a tight, almost painful ache centered at the junction of her thighs, and unconsciously her hips pressed closer to Dominic's long, powerful length.