Midnight Masqerade

by Shirlee Busbee

  All his protective instincts aroused, Zachary held Melissa gently against his chest, murmuring soft words of encouragement, but his mind was racing. What the devil had Dominic done to make his sister so unhappy? And what had Melissa done to make Dominic so furious? And how was he going to resolve it? If it could be resolved? Even though Zachary was willing to abet Melissa in whatever action she desired, he wasn't altogether convinced that whatever problem existed between the newlyweds was one-sided. Despite the gravity of the situation, he smiled faintly. He knew Lisa's flaming temper and stubborn nature and he suspected that Dominic, too, possessed a formidable temper and could be equally as stubborn. Not the best combination for a tranquil marriage, he mused uneasily, his smile fading. But ... But twenty-four hours was hardly long enough to give the marriage a chance, and looking down into Melissa's face, he said quietly, "I think you need to consider more fully what you want to do. Those vows you took yesterday are not to be lightly discarded."

  The memory of Dominic embracing Deborah searing across her brain, Melissa snapped, "Well, I wish you would tell my husband that! "

  At Zachary's speculative look Melissa bit her lip, longing to call the words back. The last thing she wanted was w involve others in the disaster of her marriage. Besides, Zachary might take it into his head to confront Dominic; even, she realized with a sickening thud of her heart, challenge him to a duel!

  Deciding that she had to distract Zachary, she wiped away the last of her tears and smiled tremulously at him. With more than a little truth, she got out in a shaky voice, Oh, Zack! You know my wretched tongue and temper, and I am afraid that I have, as usual, let them run wild without considering the consequences. You'd think I'd lave learned my lesson after all these years, wouldn't you?

  Zachary wasn't completely convinced, but he was agreeable for the moment to go along with whatever Melissa wanted. And if she wanted to prevent him from probing too deeply, then he would allow her to do so-for his age, Zachary was a very astute young man.

  Cocking an eyebrow, he asked, "So what are you going au do about making up with your husband?"

  Melissa had no intention of "making up" with Dominic-at least not at the present time. Her pride was too deeply wounded, and the knowledge that her husband had immediately sought out another woman had been a painful blow to her wary heart. But she had to say something to Zachary which would ease his mind about this morning's events. "Well, first I shall have to apologize for my regrettable temper, and then ..." She shrugged carelessly. "I shall think of something!"

  Not at all deceived by Melissa's words, Zachary murmured dryly, "Oh, I'm sure you will. I just hope it isn't something that drives an even wider chasm between the two of you!"

  Despondently Melissa turned away. She rather doubted that anything she could possibly do could make matters worse. What, she wondered miserably, could be worse than being married to a man who didn't love you, hadn't wanted to marry you and was a blatant libertine in the bargain! The future looked very bleak indeed from where she stood. Hiding the distress that suddenly filled her, she kept her face averted from Zachary and said with an attempt at lightness, "Don't worry, Zack. It is just a lover's quarrel." And until she said it out loud, she had not realized how desperately she wished it had been a quarrel between two lovers; at least then there would have been the possibility of a reconciliation.

  That thought stayed with her throughout the long, wretched hours that followed. She didn't remain long at Willowglen-she dared not, fearful that Zachary would pry the truth out of her, and after chatting desultorily with him for several minutes, she departed. He had asked no further questions, although she could tell that he was consumed with curiosity and he even limited his opinion about her unorthodox riding apparel to a few brief comments as she prepared to ride away. A teasing glint in the topaz eyes so like hers, he drawled, "You look quite fetching in that new gown, Lissa. Shame you got it all covered with horsehair."

  She grimaced as she glanced down at the once-immaculate gown but made no reply. Then she guided her horse away from the plantation. She was in no hurry to arrive back at the cottage-what waited for her there? Nothing but empty rooms and empty hopes and dreams. But eventually she did return to the cottage, and leaving her horse with the groom, she wandered dispiritedly up to her room.

  Strange, to think how hopeful she had been when she had ridden away from here this morning, and now ... now she thought her heart would break.

  Listlessly she allowed Anna to help her out of her dress, completely oblivious to the woman's scoldings and shocked comments about the deplorable condition of the expensive garment. The soothing bath that Anna had prepared helped restore her physical well-being, but nothing, she thought soulfully, could ever heal her heart. And it was in those dark moments that she began to examine her feelings about Dominic Slade more fully. What she discovered did not help her dreary spirits in the least. To her dismay and horror, she realized that she had inexplicably fallen in love with her husband, womanizer or not, and she wanted him ... wanted him in all the ways a woman in love could want a man.

  But how, she wondered painfully, could she attract his interest, let alone his love? If only I had acted more wisely t last night ... if I had not sent him away so cruelly.... Yet even if I had acted differently, would it have mattered at all? She sighed gloomily.

  Blindly she wandered around her pretty bedroom, her thoughts on her erring husband. She had accepted the unpalatable notion that Dominic did not love her and that their marriage was not going to change his dissolute ways. Now all she had to do, she mused drearily, was to conceive of some way to change his nature ... to make him fall in love with her and to renounce all other women for the rest of his life. Ha!

  Growing more depressed by the minute, she sank down gracefully on one of the green velvet chairs, the filmy skirts of her amber robe rippling around her feet. A length of black silk ribbon had been woven through Melissa's tawny curls by Anna, and leaning back comfortably in the chair, she began to absentmindedly play with it, her thoughts still hopelessly muddled.

  Should she pretend that last night and this morning had never happened? Greet Dominic when he finally came home with courtesy and affection? Her mouth twisted. Knowing her own volatile temper and incendiary nature, she rather doubted she could play such a meek role. She was far more likely to break something over his head than to meet him with gentle smiles and open arms. Besides, if she seemed to accept his actions, wouldn't that encourage him to continue with his deplorable behavior? More than likely, she admitted with an unladylike snort of indignation. But she couldn't rail and scream at him either-that might lead him to believe that she cared about him. Which she did, she conceded miserably. Terribly.

  Well, if she couldn't act as meek as milk or like a jealous fishwife, what was she to do? Some sort of peace had to be established between them before she could even begin to think of some way to gain his affection. There had to be some middle ground for her to travel; some way to salvage her pride and put a good face forward, yet not appear to merely condone his actions.

  Frowning, she stared off across the room, wishing she were more sophisticated, that she had had more dealings with men, that there were an older, experienced woman she could talk to about this dreadful situation. For a brief moment, Leonie Slade's face danced before her eyes, but then she shook her head. No. Leonie would invariably be on Dominic's side-the deep affection between them had been very obvious to Melissa. And then there was the fact that she dreaded the idea of another person being involved in this painful state of affairs. The problem was between her and Dominic, and at all costs she wanted it to stay that way.

  She sighed heavily. Perhaps she should just accept her fate and resign herself to being an unloved, neglected wife with a philandering husband who treated her kindly and generously. She shuddered at the vision of the long, empty, joyless years stretching before her.

  If only there were some way to catch Dominic's interest. To make him look at her with new eyes. To chal
lenge him...

  Eyes narrowed in thought, she considered the possibilities, her mood beginning to lighten a little. The majority of men, even the most apathetic, tended to be extremely possessive of their wives. Did she dare hope that she could arouse a jealous streak in Dominic? And if he did prove to be jealous, could she build upon that particular unstable emotion? It could be a dangerous and possibly foolish path that she was thinking of treading, but none of the alternatives-meek acceptance or constant battles-appealed to her.

  Nervously chewing on her bottom lip, she continued to ponder the situation, a faint glimmer of a plan occurring to her. If she were to act politely indifferent to his philandering and suggest that they both be allowed to pursue their own interests, provided, of course, that they were discreet . . . If he had the slightest flicker of feeling for her, wouldn't he object to such a distasteful arrangement? And if he did object, perhaps she could nurture his feelings of possessiveness into something deeper and more lasting.

  Melissa was uncomfortably conscious that there was an inherent riskiness in her plan and that she was not following the wisest course. But Dominic's actions this morning had hurt her badly, and then there was her stubborn pride and a very real need to protect her newly acknowledged love for him. She was confused, jealous, hurt and angry all at the same time; considering that this was her first foray into the lists of love, she could be forgiven for choosing such a foolhardy method of attracting a husband's roving eye. With a sudden sparkle of mischief in her topaz eyes, she smiled faintly. She would neither argue with nor reproach her errant husband, but would let him believe that she had decided to follow the old adage-what was good for the gander was good for the goose!

  Chapter Seventeen

  DESPITE the misgivings she might have harbored about the wisdom of her plan, Melissa felt much better for having decided upon some course of action. She had never been one to repine and wring her hands, being far more likely to leap first and then look later, and so it proved on this occasion. But before she could put her desperate scheme into operation, she had to decide upon which gentleman of acquaintance she could safely embroil in her plan.

  Her first choice was her cousin Royce, but since she had no intention of telling whichever gentleman she finally selected why she had so suddenly become interested in him, it made things a bit awkward. Royce, she admitted ruefully, would know what she was playing at the instant she fluttered her lashes at him. And she dared not choose someone who might take her attempts at flirtation seriously. She did not want to find herself in the ridiculous situation of having to fend off amorous intentions aroused by her seeming encouragement of them, nor did she wish to inadvertently cause some poor gentleman to think that she was truly in love with him. Having discovered how painful it was to love someone who didn't return that love, she was not going to condemn some unsuspecting devil to that same fate.

  After selecting and discarding several gentlemen, including her previously rejected suitor, John Newcomb, she finally and reluctantly settled on Julius Latimer as her unknowing foil. Latimer was old enough and sophisticated enough to handle a flirtation lightly, and she strongly suspected that although he might have wanted her for his mistress, she bed not touched his heart-nor could she. If he even had a heart, she thought darkly.

  Latimer might have written her an exceedingly contrite and apologetic letter in an attempt to smooth over his dastardly actions, but Melissa wasn't about to forget those anxious days before Dominic's offer to buy Folly had saved her from the fate Latimer had planned for her. She didn't trust him one little bit . . . but she wasn't above entangling him in her rash scheme to make her husband jealous. It would serve him right, she decided with a spurt of righteous indignation, for having treated her so insultingly.

  Melissa had no fear that she could keep Latimer at a distance when she chose to do so-she was far more adept at repulsing advances than she was at making them! But she was a trifle uneasy about using him in this way, astute enough to realize that she might set in motion events over which she had no control. If she could have thought of anyone other than Latimer with whom to embark upon an apparent flirtation, she certainly would have, but no one else presented himself to her mind. It would, she conceded unenthusiastically, have to be Latimer who became the object of her seemingly amorous interest.

  After she had come to those conclusions, all that now remained was for Melissa to inform her husband of her decisions concerning the tenor of their marriage, and she grimaced. For one long, yearning moment she considered simply throwing her arms about her husband's neck and begging for his love, but eventually she put this from her mind. Beyond being a generous gentleman, he had never given any indication that he particularly cared whether his wife loved him or not, and she wasn't about to leave herself open to rejection by Dominic.

  As the hours passed and she waited anxiously for Dominic's return, her resolve to fight fire with fire hardened. And by the time the clock struck the hour of four in the morning, she came to two rather unpleasant determinations: her husband of less than forty-eight hours really was not coming home this night, and she really had no choice but to go ahead with her reckless plan. Dry-eyed and miserable, erable, she finally sought out her lonely bed.

  {

  Dominic would have given much to find himself in a lonely bed, any bed, for that matter, than the one in which he found himself. Which really wasn't a bed at all, merely a handy pile of clean straw on the ground.

  He had spent the hours since he had parted so furiously with Melissa wandering morosely about the countryside, avoiding contact with his fellow man. No more than Melissa did he wish to involve others in their quarrel, and as no ready explanation for his presence alone in the neighborhood occurred to him, he had decided it would be best if he simply remained unseen by anyone. And since he had sworn to his shrewish wife that he would not be home this evening, he thoroughly intended to do just that-hence his rather uncomfortable bed of straw.

  Longingly he thought of his soft feather bed with its clean linen sheets as he tossed and twisted, trying to find a position in which to sleep. But sleep proved impossible, and finally, hands behind his head, he gave up the pretense and lay there staring up at the star-sprinkled, black sky.

  For the life of him, he could not understand where he had gone wrong or what he had ever done to deserve the position in which he now found himself. Married, which was bad enough, but married to a witch who both infuriated and enchanted him. And if he had ever envisioned being married, he had certainly not intended to spend his second night of marriage hiding like a felon in a bed of straw behind his own stable!

  His sense of humor, which had deserted him since the argument with Melissa this morning, suddenly came forth and a smile twitched at the corners of his mouth. Lord, Royce and Morgan would tease him unrelentingly if they ever found out-which, he admitted wryly, was the least of his problems.

  He could not blame Melissa for being upset about the scene with Deborah, and he acknowledged fairly that she had behaved far better than he would have if he had come upon such a seeming tryst. But the very fact that she had handled it so well depressed him-not even the hopeful suspicion that she had been jealous comforted him at the moment. If she cared even just a tiny bit for him, could she have acted so coolly? If he had found her in such a compromising position, there would have been little doubt about his reaction-he would have challenged the other man to a duel and then taken Ks errant wife home and made love to her so fully that she would never stray again!

  Though the facts stared him straight in the face, he could am believe that Melissa had married him solely for money. Whether it was his pride or instinct, he did not believe that she could respond so freely to him and yet have no feeling at all for him. It could be simple lust that motivated her, but again Dominic could not believe that it was solely lust dun had her warm and pliant in his arms. Lust was an emotion with which he was quite familiar; he had felt it for several women during his lifetime and had satisfied it an more occa
sions than he cared to think about, and he was quite certain that what Melissa and he had shared had am been mere lust. He would not name it, though, unwilling to look deeper into his heart, only willing for the moment to blame everything on Melissa's seemingly unpredictable, wayward willfulness.

  When dawn came, his thoughts were no more ordered a clear than they had been when he had first lain down, and with a frustrated groan, he sat up, running a hand through his hair. Well, he could not delay his return home any longer, and as he rose to his feet and ripped off his crumpled cravat, he decided that with his unshaven jaw and straw-covered, wrinkled clothing, Melissa was sure to think that he had spent the night in a drunken stupor somewhere. At least, he thought with a cynical smile, she can't possibly believe that I spent the night in the arms of another woman.

  If the servants thought it strange that the master of the house, a bridegroom of less than forty-eight hours, should return home in such a bedraggled condition, there was no sign of it; not by as much as a lifted eyebrow did the new butler who opened the door, nor the upstairs maid Dominic passed on the stairs, betray surprise as he entered the house and made his way to his room. Even his English valet, Bartholomew, who had been with him for years, did am venture a comment as he helped Dominic undress a few minutes later.