The Lady Unmasked

by Ava Stone

  Ill-mannered on occasion? Quent narrowed his eyes on the back of Grace’s head. “And Miss Lila Southward.” He started after his sister who’d almost reached the brunette. “And I’ll thank you to remember, Grace, that the only reason you’re even here is because of me.”

  And then Quent stood right before Lila Southward. Damn it all, she was breathtaking in an innocent, vicar’s daughter sort of way.

  “Callie’s friend?” Grace grinned and reached her hand out to Lila. “We’ve heard so much about you.”

  “It is very nice to meet you,” Hope said, just a few steps behind Quent.

  “Very nice,” Patience added, at her side.

  Miss Southward’s gaze drifted from Quent to each of his sisters, a slight look of confusion on her oh-so pretty face. So he decided to take pity on her. “Grace is in blue, Hope in yellow and Patience in pink. Impossible to tell them apart upon first meeting them.”

  She smiled a thank you at him and then glanced towards his sisters once more. “It’s very nice to meet you too. Callie has written me often about all of you.”

  “Oh, dear.” Hope laughed. “She didn’t mention me wading through the Serpentine, did she?”

  Lila Southward smiled, which only made her that much more beautiful. What were the odds of that? It was no wonder the local magistrate was head over heels in love with her. “Something about a bet with a gentleman?” she asked.

  “I wouldn’t really call Kilworth a gentleman,” Quent grumbled under his breath.

  Then all four girls turned to look up at him.

  “Well, I wouldn’t,” he said.

  “He’s your friend,” Grace teased.

  Quent agreed with a nod of his head. “Which is precisely how I know he’s not really a gentleman.”

  Hope rolled her eyes at that. “Well, he’s quite dashing, and I do hope to finally bring him up to scratch. So any assistance from you would be more than appreciated.”

  “Fairly certain that’s why Braden wants us at Braewood instead of Marisdùn.” Patience muttered softly.

  That was most definitely the case, but Quent was in no hurry to discuss the situation with his sisters or with Lila Southward listening in. He turned his attention back to the pretty brunette and smiled. He couldn’t help it, she always made him smile. “We’ve just now arrived, but you are welcome to join us for tea, if you’d like.”

  “I wouldn’t want to intrude.” The smile she cast him warmed Quent all the way to his toes. Damn, he really did need to be careful around her or he might just forget his head altogether.

  “Hardly that!” Grace gushed, linking her arm with Miss Southward’s and began to tow the vicar’s daughter towards the castle’s large front door. “I’m anxious to hear all about Ravenglass. Callie says very little, Braden never talks about it and Quent is only interested in this year’s Samhain masquerade.”

  “Masquerade?” Miss Southward stopped, halting Grace’s progress, and glanced back over her shoulder at Quent, concern alit in her silvery eyes. “You’re hosting another masquerade?”

  “I—uh—had such a wonderful time last year,” he hedged, not wanting to divulge anything about his disappearing angel as only his family and close friends knew the details behind the reason for this year’s gala. “Perhaps Vicar Southward could be persuaded into letting you attend this year’s event.”

  An enigmatic expression flashed across her face and she said, “Perhaps if pigs sprout wings first, my lord.”

  Quent couldn’t help but laugh. “Come now, Braden and Callie will be here. And Wolf and Daphne. And you remember Mr. Thorn and Mr. Garrick?”

  “I hope you aren’t expecting Brighid or Chetwey, for any further, um, illusions.” She turned fully around to face Quent.

  He shrugged. “She’s about to deliver any day, is my understanding and there’ll be no need for her services this year. But Chetwey will make an appearance, I’m sure.” Torrington Abbey was not all that far away, after all.

  “Do you truly think that’s a good idea, my lord?”

  It was the only idea he had to unmask his vanishing angel, though he truly didn’t want to divulge that fact to her. He had a feeling that if he mentioned his lost angel, Miss Southward wouldn’t smile at him anymore, and while that was probably for the best…He rather liked her smiles. He liked them a lot. “Last year was quite memorable. I am hoping to duplicate it again, with the exception of Callie’s disappearance, of course. But since my great-grandmother has been safely banished, I believe we are in the clear on that, Miss Southward. No need to worry.”

  “Ah, Lord Quentin!” greeted Bendle, Marisdùn’s loyal and slightly greying butler, from the threshold. “So good to have you returned, sir.”

  “Thank you, Bendle.” Quent started towards the castle. “My sisters, Ladies Hope, Grace and Patience,” he said gesturing to the three blondes. “And, of course, you already know Miss Southward.”

  The butler nodded in the brunette’s direction. “Yes, of course, my lord.”

  “My sisters will be in residence only until Lord and Lady Bradenham arrive at Braewood and then we shall lose them to the magistrate’s, I’m afraid.”

  “And then we shall be bored to tears,” Hope muttered under her breath.

  “Very good, my lord,” Bendle replied. “We will see to your things and Mrs. Small will see to you in the great room in the meantime.”

  Lila had spent quite a bit of time at Marisdùn in the past, before old Mr. Routledge had passed away and passed the ancient, haunted castle onto his great-nephews. She hadn’t, however, crossed the threshold of the castle since Lord Bradenham, Callie, and Lord Quentin had departed for Buckinghamshire last autumn. There hadn’t been a reason to do so any longer. Papa always made it a point to visit his parishioners who hadn’t attended services, but with the Posts out of residence this last year, there hadn’t been anyone to visit.

  Until the very strange activities of last autumn, she’d never believed Marisdùn was haunted, she hadn’t ever believed in anything like that. But after her dearest friend in the world had vanished right into thin air, taken by a long deceased ancestor of Lord Quentin’s…Well, it would be impossible not to believe in such things now. Not that Lila was frightened. She had, after all, been inside the castle many times and whatever spirits were in residence had never manifested themselves to her.

  And as she stepped inside the castle now, her arm linked with Lady Grace’s, nothing inside Marisdùn seemed any different than it had any of the times she’d visited in the past. The hair on the back on her neck didn’t stand on end, no chills raced down her spine, and no disembodied voices came out from nowhere to strike fear into her heart. If she didn’t know better, she’d swear the castle wasn’t haunted at all.

  “Miss Southward!” Mrs. Small the portly housekeeper smiled widely. “How very nice to see you.”

  “And you, Mrs. Small.”

  The housekeeper ushered everyone into the great room and promised to return with tea and biscuits shortly.

  Lady Grace towed Lila towards a settee at the far end of the room. “Now do tell us what sorts of adventure there is to be had at Ravenglass.”

  “Yes,” Lady Hope agreed, dropping into a brocade chair across from them. “Mama has not traveled with us, you see, and we so rarely get the opportunity for adventure.”

  Lord Quentin, from the middle of the great room, snorted at that.

  Lila couldn’t help but laugh. “I’m afraid there’s no adventure to be found in Ravenglass, my lady. We are a rather quiet community. The only thing out of the usual that I can ever remember was all of the activity leading up to your brothers’ Samhain masquerade last year.”

  Lady Patience slid into an empty chair, and Lord Quentin gestured to the open spot beside Lila. “Do you mind?” he asked, his hazel eyes warming her from the inside out.

  She’d only dreamed about being that close to him since he’d departed Ravenglass last year. “Of course not.” She slid a little closer to his sister Grace
to make room for him.

  His lordship claimed the spot beside her and his sandalwood scent instantly enveloped her senses. She would have leaned towards him and closed her eyes to breathe him in except…Well, except for the fact that his sisters all had their gazes firmly fixed on her.

  “But there must be some entertainment to be found,” Grace said from beside her.

  Well, of course, there was some, but nothing that would compare to their lives in London. Just a sampling of Callie’s letters would make that obvious. Balls, soirees, pleasure gardens, museums, operas and the theatre. Ravenglass was very far removed from all of that. “Nothing like you’re accustomed to, I’m sure.” She shrugged. “Reading, needlepoint, and visiting neighbors, mostly.”

  “Wonderful landscape to race along,” Lord Quentin added.

  Lila shook her head and cast him a sidelong glance. “You are a danger to society in the saddle, my lord.”

  He leaned closer to her on the settee and muttered, “Haven’t forgiven me for that rock, Miss Southward?” His voice rumbled over her and Lila somehow managed not to sigh.

  “I’ve been raised to turn the other cheek,” she began. “But that doesn’t mean I want to be struck in the head again.”

  When he laughed, his knee brushed against hers and tingles raced across her skin. The memory of dancing with him, the memory of pressing her lips to his, washed over Lila and her heart swelled. She really, truly had fallen in love with him upon their first meeting, and the months he’d been gone hadn’t changed that fact in the least.

  “You were struck in the head?” Lady Patience leaned forward in her seat.

  Lord Quentin winced. “It was an accident. Thorn, Garrick, and I were racing and a rock flew up and hit Miss Southward in the head.” He grinned slightly at her. “Might not even have been from my steed, you know. I could be completely innocent.”

  At that pronouncement, all three of his sisters laughed.

  “Have you ever been completely innocent in your life, my lord?” Lila asked, as she couldn’t imagine anyone ever saying such a thing about him. Charming, devastatingly handsome, witty, gregarious, adventurous. Those he was more apt to have been called throughout his life. But not completely innocent. There was, after all, a slightly rakish air about him. And if Lila was honest with herself, that was part of his allure.

  “She knows you rather well.” Lady Grace quirked her brother a smile.

  Mrs. Small returned to the great room in that moment, a tea tray and biscuits weighing her down.

  “Oh!” Lady Patience leapt from her spot. “Right there on that table will be fine.” And then she rushed forward to take over the hostess duties.

  “Well, there has to be something entertaining we can do tomorrow,” Lady Hope insisted. “Braden will arrive by the evening and then our last chance to have any real fun will have come to an end.”

  “There is a wonderful set of Roman ruins,” Lord Quentin said to his sister. “Wolf picnicked there last year and quite enjoyed the place. We could make our way there tomorrow morning and have a look about.” Then he brushed his fingers against Lila’s arm and tingles raced across her skin. “You are, of course, welcome to join us.”

  “My sister and I are supposed to be visiting the Pugmire sisters in the morning.” Though she would give Tilly anything in the world she asked if she’d call on the elderly duo alone. “But if I can make it, I will try.”

  “I do hope you’ll be successful.”

  And so did Lila.

  Three

  When Miss Southward announced that she really did need to get back to the vicarage, a twinge of regret pricked Quent’s heart. It had been so wonderful seeing her, sitting beside her, basking in that earth-shattering smile of hers. “Shall I see you home?” he asked, raising back to his feet and ignoring the surprised expressions on his sisters’ faces.

  Lila Southward reached her delicate hand out to Quent and he helped her find her feet. She was so damned beautiful. She really was. He could stare at her for hours, just standing in the middle of his great room with her hand in his. And that urge to kiss her, the same one he’d felt last year as he’d carried her back to the vicarage, washed over him once again. But last year, Callie had been present and this year all three of his sisters were a very rapt audience. So Quent cleared his throat and released the pretty brunette’s hand. “That is, I’d be happy to see you home.”

  “I would like that very much, my lord,” she replied, and the breathy tone to her voice made Quent’s cock stiffen just a bit.

  “Do try to come tomorrow,” Grace said, pushing to her feet. “It’s been so nice meeting you.”

  “Yes, yes,” Patience chimed in. “It will be wonderful if you can join us.”

  “I will try,” Miss Southward promised as Quent offered her his arm.

  As soon as Quent and Miss Southward took their leave of the castle, Lady Grace Post looked at her sisters to find they wore the same identical expressions of surprise that she must sport herself. “He is quite taken with her, isn’t he?” she asked, because one of them had to start the conversation.

  Patience shook her head in bewilderment. “Did you see the way he looked at her in the courtyard?”

  “Does Henry ever look at me like that?” Hope asked.

  Lord Kilworth usually looked at Hope like he just wanted to find a way to divest her of her gown, but Grace didn’t want to say as much. For one thing, her sister wouldn’t pay the council any heed and for another, she didn’t want to discuss Lord Kilworth for the rest of the day, which is what it would be if Hope had her way. And while that wouldn’t bother Grace terribly most of the time, she didn’t want to engage in that topic today if it could be helped, not when she’d much rather discuss Quent and his rather obvious interest in Miss Southward. “I never pay Lord Kilworth any attention at all.”

  “Do you think,” Patience began, “he really returned for her and not this angel of his?”

  “Perhaps she is his angel,” Hope suggested.

  Well, that was a thought. Grace glanced back towards the threshold their brother and Miss Southward had escaped through as though she might find the answer to that question there. But it didn’t really make any sense. “He doesn’t know who his angel is,” she said, dismissing the idea as quickly as it had come to them. “And he very clearly knows Miss Southward.”

  “He’d very clearly like to know her even better,” Patience muttered softly.

  “Then what about his angel?” Hope asked.

  “Perhaps a living, breathing girl would be better than one who might very well be a figment of his imagination,” Grace replied.

  “You truly think he imagined his angel?” Hope blinked at her.

  “Braden thinks he did,” Grace added. “And he was here last year. None of us were.”

  “True.” Patience nodded. “But I’d imagine Braden was distracted by Callie’s reappearance last year and wasn’t paying Quent any notice at all.”

  Grace agreed with a nod of her head. “Yes, but Quent was, apparently, quite deep in his cups because Braden did remark upon that, even with Callie’s reappearance.”

  All three of them released the exact same sigh at the exact same time.

  “So what do we do?” Patience finally asked.

  “Hope Miss Southward comes to the ruins tomorrow, watch them a little more closely.”

  “Find out if she knows anything about his angel?” Hope suggested.

  Grace frowned in response. “I hardly think that’s the best idea.”

  But Hope stubbornly shook her head. “But she could know something. We promised to help Quent find his mystery girl.”

  “Yes,” Patience agreed. “We did. Perhaps she does know something. And perhaps if we can dispense with this whole angel nonsense, Quent can be free to focus his attention on Miss Southward instead. I quite like her.”

  So did Grace. Lila Southward was exactly the sort of girl Quent should be focused on. “All right. We’ll dispense with this angel nons
ense and clear the way for Quent to court Lila Southward. Agreed?”

  Hope and Patience nodded quickly.

  Just then the sound of laughing children echoed about the room. Grace sucked in a breath. Heavens! The place really was haunted.

  “Did you hear that?” Patience asked.

  “We’re not deaf,” Hope returned, glancing about the great room as though she could spot whatever it was that had just laughed.

  It was one thing to hear tales about the hauntings at Marisdùn Castle, and quite another to actually experience something even so slight as a child’s disembodied laugh. Grace couldn’t help but shiver. “I can’t believe Quent actually wants to live here.”

  Patience rubbed her hands along her arms. “Would you think I was mad if I said I was looking forward to staying at Braewood tomorrow?”

  Grace wouldn’t think Patience was mad at all.

  Hope released an irritated sigh. “At Braewood, it will be next to impossible for me to see Henry.”

  “He’s not even here yet,” Patience replied.

  And with any luck, the blackguard’s coach would throw a wheel and he’d never make it to Ravenglass. “Or perhaps he’ll decide against attending after all,” Grace muttered under her breath.

  Hope scoffed as though the mere idea offended her. “Henry will be here. He gave me that beautiful set of earbobs to wear to the masquerade so he could find me.”

  And attempt liberties while Hope was masked. How did their sister not see what sort of villain Lord Kilworth was?

  An angry gust of wind rushed through the great room, halting all conversation about Lord Kilworth or anything else. Patience squealed as she hugged her arms tighter to herself and Grace shivered once more as the wind disappeared as though it had never been there.

  “I shall be quite happy to be at Braewood myself,” Grace said, hoping her voice didn’t quiver as she spoke.