Behind the Mask (House of Lords)

by Brooke, Meg

  “The Guller?”

  “That’s what the villagers call him. The family’s name is Gulleston, but he has been the Guller for as long as I’ve known him. He’s a cantankerous old soul, but because he takes deliveries from every farmer for fifty miles, he knows everything that happens in the Broads. He’ll be a good source of information.”

  They stopped outside the little house, and the top of the half-door swung open almost immediately, revealing a wizened old woman, still wiping her floury hands on her apron.

  “Miss Elly!” she cried, her pale, watery eyes lighting up when she saw Eleanor. “My lands, it’s been an age since we’ve seen you. Come in, come in! I’ve just been baking some pasties.” She threw open the bottom half of the door and limped out to take Eleanor’s hand. Then, appearing to notice Colin at last, she said, “Is this your young man? We’ve heard so much about him! My, but he’s handsome. You’ve done well, girl.”

  “I think he can hear you, Mrs. Gulleston,” Eleanor said, leaning down to speak close to the old lady’s ear.

  “I suppose he can, but at my age you don’t worry about that sort of thing, dear.”

  “Of course not. Mrs. Gulleston, this is Lord Colin Pierce of Townsley in Staffordshire.”

  “I hope you like potato pasties,” Mrs. Gulleston said, looking Colin up and down. “He’s a little too thin for my tastes, Miss Elly.”

  “Well, I suppose you’ll soon remedy that,” Colin said.

  Mrs. Gulleston laughed. “I suppose we will. Come in, lad.”

  She led them into the small house, which appeared to be made up of only two rooms. One, a large kitchen with a great hearth and an ancient, graying table, took up most of the space. Near the back, on the side away from the mill, Colin spied a bed through a narrow door. Another door on the other side presumably led into the mill itself. He found himself wondering not only where the Gullestons had put twelve children, but also how they had managed to have them in the first place.

  Before the hearth sat a leathery old man. When he looked up Colin saw that his right eye was clouded and sightless. But the man stood to greet him and Colin realized that he was by no means incapable. The Guller might be long past his prime, but he had clearly not given up. He had strong, confident hands and thick arms that had been well trained to the tasks he performed daily, and when he spoke it was in a clear voice.

  “So, Miss Elly, you’ve brought us your young man. About time, I say.”

  “Now, Guller,” Eleanor said, going to kiss the old man’s cheek, “I’m hardly an old maid.”

  “Nor did we think you would be. But it’s good to see you thinking of something other than managing that great house all on your own. Do a little for yourself, child, that’s what I say.”

  “Of course, Guller. May I present Lord Colin Pierce of Townsley in Staffordshire?”

  “You may indeed,” the Guller said, just as if he were a king receiving a supplicant.

  “I am honored, Mr. Gulleston,” Colin said, bowing his head as he shook the old man’s hand.

  “You call me Guller, young man,” the Guller ordered.

  “Of course, sir.”

  The Guller chuckled low in his throat.

  “Tea?” his wife asked.

  “Thank you, Mrs. Gulleston,” Eleanor said. The Guller led them over to the worn table and they sat while Mrs. Gulleston poured tea and brought over a plate of pasties so hot they were almost inedible. But she dished them out anyway, placing them carefully onto what Colin was sure was her prize china.

  Eleanor sipped her tea thoughtfully for a moment before saying, “I’m afraid this is not purely a social call, Guller. Lord Pierce works for the Foreign Office, you see.”

  “A spy?” the Guller asked suspiciously.

  Colin shook his head. “Not quite, sir.”

  “Good. I don’t like the idea of our Miss Elly married to a spy.”

  Colin decided not to argue with him. “I suppose you know, Guller, that Sidney Park is to be favored with a visit from Princess Victoria in a few days.”

  “Lord bless her,” Mrs. Gulleston said reverently. The Guller nodded.

  “Well, it’s my job to make sure that the visit goes smoothly,” Colin said. It was not quite the truth, but it was as near as he could get without causing panic. “I’m wondering if you may have seen anything suspicious recently.”

  “Does this have anything to do with that young man what was killed out on the flats?”

  “I’m afraid it does,” Colin said.

  The Guller nodded again. “Well, never let it be said I didn’t do my part for the crown,” he muttered. “I did see something, three days ago now. I were out stacking wood, and I saw a light out on the flats, down Yarmouth way. Not more than a mile off, though. I thought it might be that young man what was killed. He had been by earlier that day, asking questions. Were he one of yours, Lord Pierce?”

  “He was,” Colin confirmed. “This would have been Thursday night, Guller?”

  He scratched his head. “No,” he said after a pause, “No, it were Friday night. I saw the young man Thursday, now I think of it, but I didn’t see the light until Friday.”

  Colin said nothing. The Guller did not know it, but by Friday Yates had already been captured, perhaps even killed. The light the Guller had seen might very well have been the Serraray transporting Yates’s body.

  “My Lord,” Mrs. Gulleston said, staring down into her tea, “there isn’t any danger to our little princess, is there?”

  He shook his head. “I’m afraid I don’t know yet,” he said. “But you may rest assured that I will do everything I can to keep her safe.”

  The Guller did not look satisfied with this, but he nodded sullenly. “See that you do,” he said. “And if there’s anything the old Guller can do to help, you don’t hesitate to ask.”

  “Of course,” Colin promised.

  As they left the Gullestons', Colin asked, “They look on you as quite their own, don’t they?”

  Eleanor shrugged as she led him across the flats and back towards the Park. “I suppose so. They’ve known me since I was a child. I ran rather wild, I’m afraid, and it was more often people like the Gullestons who kept me in check than my own parents. When Toby came back from school and he began courting me it was Mrs. Gulleston who sat me down and gave me a rather frank talking-to.” She laughed, remembering how fiercely she had blushed when Mrs. Gulleston had explained the sort of things Toby wanted from her, the things all young men wanted if they could get them. Unfortunately, by that time it had been rather too late for such a discussion, as Eleanor had already made her mistakes, and rather than feeling loved and cared for she had felt ashamed and embarrassed. But now, with the benefit of the intervening years, she was able to recognize that Mrs. Gulleston had had that talk with every one of her own daughters, and Eleanor appreciated being included in that number.

  Colin laughed, too. “I can imagine her doing so. She is a formidable lady, I think.”

  “She’d have to be, to stand up to the Guller for all these years. She must truly love him, I think. They have been quite blessed to have so many years together.”

  “Indeed,” Colin said. His expression was so strange that Eleanor suddenly felt an uncomfortable tingling in her toes.

  “Well,” she said, trying to steer their conversation back to sturdier ground, “I thought we might ride down the Broads to see if there’s anything of interest.”

  He nodded, eyes fixed ahead. “I think it very unlikely we’ll find anything useful,” he said. “When I said that these men will likely go to ground now, I meant it. They made a rather glaring error when they killed Yates, and I’m sure they know it. I do not believe we will see them again until they are ready to make their next move.”

  Eleanor nodded. Despite Colin’s reassurances, she had gone into the gun room late last night when the house was asleep and found one of her father’s pistols. She had known how to load and fire a gun almost as long as Leo had. John Mowbray’s fa
ther had taught them all when they were children, though he had only included Eleanor because she had threatened to scream and throw a great tantrum if he did not. But she had learned, and though she was not an expert markswoman she could certainly hold her own. She meant to defend herself when the time came, and to protect her family if it was necessary. But she had decided to say nothing about it to Colin. Somehow, she knew, he would not approve of her carrying a gun. He would want to be the one doing the defending. Eleanor knew that her independence was another of her more unappealing qualities. She had seen more than once how men suddenly lost interest when they discovered how many things she would rather do for herself. Perhaps, she thought now, it was for that reason that she did not want Colin to know she had taken the pistol from the gun room. But she was not quite ready for that degree of honesty, with herself or with him.

  Just as Colin had predicted, they rode for nearly an hour down the flats and back without seeing anything of interest. When they returned to the Park they rode along the south hill towards the gamekeeper’s cottage. But as they drew near he slowed his pace, scanning the Park. When he spoke, however, it was clear that he was not thinking about possible sources of danger.

  “Are you afraid of marriage?”

  She stopped, Mabon snorting impatiently. For a moment she had no earthly idea what to say. At last, she managed to stammer, “Why...why would you ask me such a question?”

  He shrugged elegantly. “You have rejected one marriage offer, and it seems to me that you are planning to reject another soon,” he began.

  “Three,” she said, before he could continue. He turned his horse and came back towards her, looking rather bemused.

  “Three?”

  “I’ve rejected three offers of marriage. One each season since I came out. Mr. Ellington, Lord Sherbourne, and Lord Marsh.”

  He appeared to digest that information for a moment. “May I ask why?”

  For a second she considered telling him that he might ask all he liked, but she could see no real reason not to tell him. Trying to keep her voice even, she said, “Mr. Ellington was a notorious gambler. He had burned through his fortune, and he seemed to think that I would turn a blind eye to his burning through mine next. Lord Sherbourne was not really in love with me, though I think he believed he was. But he soon transferred his affections to Miss Granger. They are now married, quite happily, I have heard. Then there was Lord Marsh. He made it clear that he believed me to be a vapid, flirtatious girl who would become a vapid but not flirtatious society wife, virtuous and vivacious and everything else I had no desire to be. I was not the woman he thought I was, and I could not bear to disappoint him.”

  She could not look at him as she said this last. She had never explained to her mother or brother why she had rejected Lord Marsh. She had not been able to bear the thought of telling them that she knew she would never live up to the man’s expectations. Somehow, that had felt a great deal like admitting defeat.

  He reached out across the space between their horses and brushed an errant strand of hair from her face. As he tucked it behind her ear he allowed his fingers to linger there, on the delicate skin behind her earlobe. “I doubt you could ever disappoint a man,” he said, “or, at least, not any man worthy of you.”

  She thought she could feel his touch all the way down to her toes. “Thank you,” she said softly, not certain she could bear the intensity of what she was feeling. If only he knew the mistakes she had made, the wrong steps she had taken, he might not say such a thing. He might no longer consider her worthy. But it also meant that she was free, totally and completely free to repeat that mistake if she liked. She turned her horse back towards the gamekeeper’s lodge, hoping to hide the sudden tears that had sprung to her eyes at his tender words. But as they rode through the thickening trees towards the clearing, she made up her mind.

  With Toby it had been a mistake. But now she was determined that it would be the best decision she had ever made.

  When they reached the gamekeeper’s lodge at last, Colin stared a long time at the low facade. Nothing appeared to have been disturbed, but this was the only other building on the property.

  "I'd like to check inside, just to be sure," he said, dismounting.

  She jumped down as well. "All right."

  "I think it would be better if you waited here," he said, but she took his hand and dragged him towards the lodge.

  "There's no one in there," she said. "Trust me." She lifted the latch and the door swung inward.

  The cottage did appear to be empty. Inside, everything was covered in a tin film of dust, and the only footprints on the floor were of a tiny mouse that was likely long gone. "See?" she said. She marched back to the only other door, which she threw open. "Empty."

  "Then why did you insist on coming in?" he demanded.

  She turned back to him, and when he saw her smile he had to remind himself that she was an innocent. Otherwise the way her mouth curled at one side would have been so suggestive that he might have started trembling. But as she advanced on him, he began to wonder whether he might have underestimated her level of experience. Did she intend to—

  But then her hands were on his lapels, and she went up on her tiptoes and kissed him, hard. Her arms went about his neck, and his hands slid instinctively down her back to support her, cupping her and pulling her against him. Where their bodies melded he knew she could feel his arousal, and when she pressed closer he knew that she understood what she was doing. Deciding that he could ask questions later, he gave himself over to the moment. When her tongue brushed his lips he opened his mouth and let her play. He allowed his hands to travel up under her coat. He could feel the warmth of her skin through the thin lawn of her shirt.

  Unable to resist the temptation, he pushed her back, walking her across the floor until they reached the table. He lifted her onto it and kissed her as he pushed her coat off her shoulders. She shrugged out of it and then he leaned her back, sliding one hand along the back of her thigh until she lifted her leg and wrapped it around him. He ground against her, the movement pure torment, as he leaned over her and kissed her again, trailing his lips along her jaw and down her neck, his fingers loosening the knot at her collar, his hand sliding inside to caress the flesh, damp from the heat of the day. His fingers slid beneath her chemise, teasing her nipple. She gasped at the sensation. He followed his fingers with his lips, loosening the buttons of her shirt to give himself better access to the smooth skin of her breast. He pulled the tails of the shirt from her breeches and slid it off her shoulders and down her arms, taking the straps of her chemise with it. When he had tossed the shirt aside, he pulled the filmy fabric of the chemise down. She watched him, apparently fascinated by his actions. He ran his hands along her silky skin, over her ribcage and up to cup her perfect breasts. She leaned her head back and closed her eyes as he kneaded them and then bent down to take one nipple in his mouth.

  She drew in a harsh breath as he suckled her, her hips lifting to push against his erection. He moaned against her breast, grazing her skin with his teeth. Her fingers tangled in his hair as he flicked his tongue against her nipple. When she whispered his name, he looked up into her eyes.

  “Don’t stop,” she said. “Please, don’t stop.”

  “I have no intention of it,” he said, taking off his coat. By now he had realized that she knew what was coming, whether she had actual knowledge of it or not. A better man might have held back, might have resisted the temptation. But he wanted her too desperately, was too close to feeling things for her that he had never felt for any woman. He longed to show her how wrong she was to believe that no man would want her.

  But he would not take her like this, in an abandoned, dusty cottage. Not their first time, not now when he was beginning to realize that he would never be satisfied with only a first time and nothing more. That did not mean, however, that he could not give her pleasure.

  As he undid her breeches, he kissed her again, skimming his fingers over h
er warm flesh. When they strayed lower, she arched up against him, begging for his touch. He pushed the breeches down and found the sensitive spot within her silken folds, caressing her until she made a soft mewling sound against his lips. Then he knelt, his lips tracing a path over her skin, between her breasts and over her belly. She gasped as he blew on her burning skin, then pushed her thighs wider, dropping his head and taking a long, slow taste.

  “Oh, Colin,” she murmured as he laved her skin, using his lips and teeth and tongue to bring her to the edge. He felt the moment when she tumbled over it, her whole body convulsing beneath him.

  As she struggled for breath, he kissed the smooth skin of her belly and then pulled her up off the table. She rested her forehead against his shoulder for a moment. “Aren’t we going to—?”

  “Not here,” he said against her hair. “Not like this. You are worth a good deal more than that to me.”

  She turned her face up to his and kissed him, a soft, delicate kiss. Then he helped her back into her shirt and coat. “But when?” she asked as he straightened the tie on her shirt.

  He pressed his lips to hers. “Soon,” he said, and he meant it.

  She nodded, looking reluctantly at the door. “We should return to the house,” she said. “Mama and the girls will be back from church, and Leo and Mr. Strathmore will be home soon.”

  “Of course,” he agreed, following her to the door. He pulled the latch and opened it for her. But she had not taken two steps outside when she froze. Colin looked past her, afraid that somehow the Serraray had found them, that in his foolishness he had dropped his guard too long.

  But it was not the Serraray—it was something much, much worse.

  Sitting atop his horse in the shade of the trees was Leo.

  TWELVE

  For a moment that seemed like an eternity, Eleanor could not breathe. Her brother stared down at her from atop his horse, his gaze piercing. There was no doubt he knew—or guessed well enough—what had happened inside the cottage, what she and Colin had been doing. She had always had an excellent imagination, but even she could not attempt to persuade herself that he could be convinced nothing had happened. And even if it had not, the appearance that it had was enough to ruin her. But as her brother’s glare shifted from her to Colin, Eleanor realized that it was not her own ruination she should fear, but what her brother might do to the man at her side.