by Wolf, Bree
The discussion between the two sisters continued, and Louisa turned away when her mother addressed her. “Your father is right, my dear. You do look as though you’ve had sweet dreams.” A suggestive smile curled up her mother’s lips, her light blue gaze questioning as it held Louisa. Unlike her father’s down-to-earth nature, her mother shone like a light, her pale eyes a perfect match to her white, creamy skin and light golden curls. “Anyone in particular?”
Louisa rolled her eyes at her mother, trying her best to mask the way her mother’s words unsettled her. Indeed, what had she dreamed last night? She could not recall; however, she had woken with a big smile upon her face and a dizzying warmth lingering in her heart. “Where’s Grandma Edie?” she asked, hoping to steer the conversation back to a safer topic. “I hope she is well.” Reaching for a cup of tea, Louisa averted her gaze, relieved to have something else to focus her attention on.
“Oh, she’s quite well,” her mother replied, the tone in her voice suggesting that she knew perfectly well what Louisa was doing. “She’s still in bed. You know how she likes to sleep in.”
Louisa chuckled. Indeed, Grandma Edie often proclaimed that now that she was an old woman, she could get away with anything, and she often tested that theory.
“Another dead,” her father suddenly exclaimed in a grave tone. His brows were furrowed as he glanced down at the paper lying on the table next to his plate. He momentarily leaned closer, his eyes squinting ever so slightly that Louisa wondered if a pair of spectacles might benefit him.
“What do you mean, Father?” Troy inquired, casting a doubtful look at his two youngest sisters, concern in his gaze. He was no doubt worried about whether such a topic might be suitable for their ears. Louisa almost laughed, knowing better than her older brother just how inquisitive Harry and Chris were. No doubt, they knew more than Troy would ever even consider in his dreams.
“Shot in Hyde Park,” their father replied, glancing up at his son. “It looks like a duel yet again.”
Troy frowned. “That is…what? The third in only half a year?”
Their father nodded. “It seems the young men of today have little to do that could be considered productive.” He shook his head. “Such a waste! And all because of hot-headed thoughtlessness!”
“Here, read this,” Leonora mumbled to Louisa, pulling a letter out of her pocket and handing it to her. “It might amuse you.” Her light blue eyes so much like their mother’s lingered for a moment, a hint of scientific curiosity mixed with sisterly concern visible there.
Louisa froze. It was a perfectly natural request, one any of her sisters could have complied with without thought or hesitation. But not Louisa. Her gaze fell to the letter, her heart picking up speed, panic slowly creeping up into every region of her body. The breath lodged in her throat, and she wished a hole would open in the earth and swallow her without delay.
This was nothing new. Louisa knew this feeling of panic and shame well. It was her constant companion. And so, she inhaled a deep breath, willing herself not to submit to its devastating lure, but to remain calm and not allow her family to see how such a simple request unsettled her.
Feigning a yawn, Louisa took a sip from her tea. “It is too early in the morning for letters,” she groaned, her eyes now half-lidded as though her night had been far from restful. “What does it say, Leo? Who’s it from?”
Leonora shrugged and then unfolded the letter. “It’s from Anne,” she replied, not the slightest hint of suspicion in her voice.
Louisa breathed a sigh of relief.
“She writes that Lord Barrington seems to be in a bad temper as of late,” Leonora half-read, half-remembered as her eyes flitted over the parchment. It seemed so simple, so easy, so effortless.
Louisa envied her.
“She wonders what happened,” Leonora continued, still none the wiser. “It seems he has locked himself in his study, barely comes out, and when he does, he is in a most foul mood.”
Louisa frowned, shifting her attention from her sister’s reaction to the contents of the letter. “Why would she write that? What are we supposed to do about it?” Again, she reached for her cup, for a reason to avert her eyes, because she worried to see her sister roll her eyes at her. Not that Leonora was the kind of woman who often rolled her eyes at people. Still, after their last conversation about Phineas Hawke and why she hated him so, Leonora had been most observant. No doubt her curiosity had been piqued. Louisa’s reaction puzzled her, and now she sought to solve the riddle.
That was Leonora.
This time, fortunately, Leonora seemed to have no hidden agenda. Her voice remained calm and interested, but free of any innuendo Louisa would have expected. “She begs us to come visit,” her sister continued once more. “She wonders if a little diversion would do him good.” She lifted her eyes off the parchment and looked around the table.
Chris and Harry, who had finally stopped arguing about Sir Lancelot, nodded eagerly. “I’d love to go visit,” Chris replied with a wide smile upon her face.
“Me as well,” Harry agreed, their earlier argument all but forgotten.
Louisa shook her head. “Well, if you are all going,” she replied, willing her tone to remain light, “then I don’t need to. Honestly, I do not feel like visiting today. I’d rather stay by myself and enjoy the sunshine.”
This time, Leonora’s gaze did hold something deeper, and Louisa wondered what it was her sister might be thinking in that moment. “Very well,” Leonora said to her two younger sisters. “Anne bids us visit as soon as we are able. Do the two of you have anywhere to be after breakfast?”
Both sisters shook their heads.
And thus after breakfast, Leonora, Chris and Harriet left the house to visit with Anne while their parents stepped outside into the gardens for their morning stroll, arm in arm. Their brother Troy left to peruse the morning paper in the library while Jules declared her intention to see to Grandma Edie.
With everyone leaving the table, Louisa remained behind, with no rush to go anywhere. Her thoughts were still occupied with her latest lie, for that was what it was: a lie. She had lied to her family yet again, pretended to hide the truth. A part of Louisa felt relief while another wept for the secret that kept them apart. Her heart felt heavy as she rose from the table and slowly trudged upstairs, her limbs heavy as lead. The delight and joy she had felt earlier that morning were gone. The sunshine and the soft bird songs failed to lighten her spirits. All seemed gloomy and dark and deserted.
Standing at her bedroom window, Louisa looked down into the gardens and watched her parents stroll down the small path past the rose bushes. They were a beautiful sight, two people as one, whispered words passing between them, meaningful smiles cast back and forth. Occasionally, they would stop and then simply stand there in the middle of the path for a moment or two, gazing into each other’s eyes. Sometimes, her father would lift a hand and gently brush a curl behind her mother’s ear, his fingers tracing along the line of her jaw before he gave her chin a little pinch. It was a ritual, something utterly endearing, something her parents had been doing for many years, perhaps forever, and it always made Louisa yearn to find something so meaningful and precious for herself.
But, how could she? Even her own family did not know who she truly was. Never would she be able to speak to a husband about her secret. No doubt, he would instantly regret marrying her. But without honesty, without truthfulness, could there ever be such a bond?
Turning from the window, Louisa proceeded to pace her chamber, her thoughts hopelessly entangled, drifting back and forth between her secret and—of course—Phineas Hawke. Ever since his off-hand remark, he had been connected to that part of her. She could no longer think of her flaw without thinking of him. Neither could she think of him without thinking of her flaw. It was a vicious circle, and he a constant reminder. And yet, a part of her longed to see him again, wished she had gone with her sisters.
Curse that man!
Annoyed w
ith him as much as herself, Louisa strode from the room, hoping to find a distraction elsewhere. She ventured downstairs and headed across the hall toward the back of the house. For a moment, she thought she would head into the gardens, but then remembered that her parents were there, and she did not wish to disturb them. So, she turned sharply and headed back, walking down the corridor that led past the library. It was a corridor Louisa avoided. It made no sense, of course. Yet, the proximity of the library always unsettled her. It, too, was a constant reminder.
Inhaling a deep breath, she quickened her step and made to walk past. However, as she drew closer, she noticed that the door was ajar, and voices echoed to her ears. She recognized her brother’s voice immediately. That of the other man momentarily confused her though.
Curious despite her apprehension, Louisa slowed, then stopped outside the door. She inched closer, straining to listen.
“I saw the way you looked at her,” the other man stated, open reproach in his voice. Still, there was something compassionate about the way he spoke. “I know how you feel, but there is no point.”
A loud thud echoed to Louisa’s ears as though someone had slammed a fist upon a sturdy surface. “Don’t you think I know that?” her brother roared, anger darkening his voice in a way she had never heard before. “Do you think I chose this?”
“Of course not,” the other man replied, the kindness in his voice sounding familiar. “I never meant to suggest that you did.” Footsteps could be heard as someone moved closer toward the windows. “There is a masquerade tonight at Hamilton House. Perhaps you should go. Perhaps it will be a distraction.”
“You know that is not me, Lockhart,” her brother replied, a hint of reproach in his voice. “I thought you knew me better than that.”
Lockhart? Louisa frowned. Indeed, the name was most familiar; however, the man had not come by for some time. As far as she knew, he had taken a tour of the continent.
It seemed he had returned.
As Louisa turned her attention back toward the door, the sound of muffled footsteps drifted to her ears from behind. Her heart slammed to a halt, and her shoulders snapped back. Inhaling a deep breath, wondering who had come upon her, she slowly turned around.
To her utter relief, it was Grandma Edie, who hobbled toward her, resting heavily on her cane. “I thought you knew better than to listen at open doors,” her grandmother chuckled quietly, a gleam of mischief in her eyes. “Although I do admit, listening at closed doors is far less efficient.”
Walking the remaining few steps toward her, Louisa smiled. “How much did you hear?”
Her grandmother grinned. “Not nearly as much as you, I suppose.” Her gaze narrowed as she watched Louisa, something playful lurking in those perceptive eyes of hers. A short snicker followed, and she shook her head, her eyes sweeping over Louisa’s face. “I can practically see the thoughts forming in your head, Lou.”
Indeed, Grandma Edie was right for Louisa found most intriguing thoughts beginning to bloom in her head. Lockhart, her brother’s oldest friend, had spoken of a masquerade. He had urged her brother to attend, calling it a distraction, something—it would seem—her brother needed as much as she did. Fortunately, Troy had stated quite vehemently that he had no intention of going.
A slow smile spread over Louisa’s face. Perhaps another Whickerton should attend then. For heaven knew, she could use a distraction!
“You be careful,” her grandmother warned, lifting a chiding finger. Her usually warm and cheerful gaze had hardened, and Louisa could see concern resting upon her face. Still, her grandmother did not forbid her. She clearly understood what was going on in Louisa’s head, but she did not tell her to forget about this idea. Louisa suspected that her grandmother—better than anyone—understood how Louisa felt. Always had she thought Grandma Edie to be a kindred spirit. And now, she was proven right.
Louisa squeezed her grandmother’s hand affectionately. “I promise,” she vowed, holding her grandma’s gaze for a moment longer before she spun on her heel and hurried back the way she had come.
A lot needed to be done, planned, prepared if she were to sneak out of the house tonight and attend a secret masquerade, hoping at least for one night to forget all the troubles of her life, to be free for a few precious hours and unburdened of everything that had been weighing upon her shoulders as of late.
Louisa could hardly wait.
Chapter Sixteen
Out into the Night
The house was dark and quiet when Louisa carefully opened the door of her bedchamber and peeked out into the corridor. For a heartbeat or two, she simply stood there, waiting, her eyes sweeping up and down the hall. When nothing moved, and no sound could be heard, she stepped out, quietly closing the door behind her.
Silent footsteps carried her past her sisters’ doors and down the stairs, her heart beating wildly in her chest. She pulled the cloak she wore tighter around her shoulders, pulling the hood deeper into her face, which was covered by a simple black mask, all she had been able to procure on such short notice.
Louisa crossed the front hall, trying to remain in the shadows in case someone was lingering nearby. She headed toward the back of the house, reasoning it would be simpler if she slipped out the servants’ exit. Quiet footsteps carried her down the hall, and she was about to turn the corner when an unexpected sound reached her ears.
Louisa froze, her eyes wide as she stared ahead, unable to move.
In the next instant, Leonora rounded the corner, her eyelids half-closed, and fatigue resting upon her face. She looked pale and almost half-asleep, her notebook clutched to her chest. No doubt, she had been up in the library once again, researching one topic or another, forgetting about time, about food, about sleep, about everything.
Quickly, Louisa reached up and pulled the mask from her face; unfortunately, she had tied the knot too well and it wouldn’t loosen. She merely succeeded in pulling it lower down her face. She quickly righted it.
Leonora stopped in her tracks, her eyes widening before they swept over her sister. “Lou?” she exclaimed, a startled sound leaving her lips. She glanced around the darkened corridor, her brows drawing down into a frown. “What are you doing here? Why are you still up?”
Louisa decided that attack was the best way to defend in that moment, to distract her sister before she became too suspicious. “Why are you still up?” she asked, trying to keep her tone light as though she did not have a care in the world. “Did you fall asleep again, pouring over some book?”
A soft snicker drifted from Leonora’s lips. Then she shrugged. “I did not notice how late it had gotten,” she replied by way of an explanation. “I awoke, and it was dark.”
Louisa smiled at her sister, pulling the hood a little farther into her face, trying to hide the mask. “Then you should head to bed,” she told her sister, stepping around her and putting a hand on her shoulder, urging her back toward the stairs. “You look asleep on your feet, Leo. You truly need sleep. You need to take better care of yourself.”
Leonora nodded, another wide yawn opening her mouth. She took a step forward in the direction Louisa urged her, then another, and Louisa’s heart lightened.
Louisa was about to turn around, her eyes sweeping sideways, searching for the door that would lead to freedom. But then, her sister suddenly stopped in her tracks. She whirled around, a deep frown upon her face. “What are you doing up?” she repeated, stepping closer, the look in her eyes no longer fatigued, but curious, suspicious even. “And what is this on your face?” She reached up a hand, and before Louisa could move or say anything, Leonora pulled away the hood, revealing the black mask hiding half of Louisa’s face. “What is this? Why are you wearing a mask?” Her gaze narrowed, and her jaw set, deep suspicion coming to her voice. “Where are you going?”
Louisa exhaled a slow breath, her spirits falling from up high. Failure loomed over her, and the promise of a carefree evening slowly slipped away. “It is nothing,” she told Leonora, pu
lling the hood back up onto her head. “Please, can you forget you saw me here tonight? I promise I shall take care of myself, but I need this. Please, understand.”
Confusion darkening her eyes, Leonora shook her head. “Understand what? Where are you going?”
The corners of Louisa’s mouth quirked upward. “To a masquerade,” she replied, knowing she would never get away without at least providing a few answers. “Isn’t it obvious?”
Shock whitened Leonora’s face. “A masquerade?” she gasped, her hands tightening on the notebook still clutched to her chest. “You cannot be serious! Do you truly intend to leave the house in the dark of night all by yourself? You must be mad!” She shook her head vehemently. “No, you cannot. You simply cannot.”
Louisa felt her lips thin and her chin rise. She inhaled a deep breath, and met her sister’s gaze, her hand reaching out to grasp Leonora’s upper arms. “Please, Leo,” she whispered, looking at her sister imploringly. “I need this. I need an evening away from…from all of this.”
“From what? What is going on?”
“I cannot explain,” Louisa told her sister, hoping against hope that for once Leonora would rely on her heart and not her head. “Please, pretend you did not see me. Let me go. Please.”
Leonora stared at her. “I cannot do that,” she whispered. “What if something happens to you? You cannot go by yourself. Can you not ask Troy—”
Louisa laughed darkly. “He would never, and you know it. Please, Leo, this is my only chance. Please, trust me. I know what I’m doing.”
Leonora heaved a deep sigh, doubt and concern clearly etched into her face. Still, Louisa could see a spark of compassion and understanding in her sister’s pale blue eyes. “Lou, I wish… But…”
Louisa grasped her sister’s arms tighter, her gaze even more imploring now than it ever had been in her life. “Leo, please!”
Her sister inhaled a slow breath, her gaze holding Louisa’s for a long moment. Then she nodded. “Very well.” Louisa exhaled a deep breath, relief sweeping through her body. “But I will go with you.”
