Behind The Baron's Mask: A Regency Romance (Resolved In Love Book 1)
Page 15
Finally, after a few agonizing moments, Cecilia reached her destination. She didn’t bother knocking lest she alert anyone to her midnight wanderings.
This room was even darker than her own and Cecilia had to blink into the black surroundings for some time before her eyes finally adjusted. The door clicked quietly behind her. Nothing in the room stirred.
She tiptoed to the bed and sat on its edge, cringing as it creaked with her weight. But the slumbering form remained undisturbed, a light snore hitching slightly before returning to its normal rhythm.
“Jules? Are you awake?” Cecilia whispered as loudly as she could, leaning down into her sister’s ear. When Juliet failed to respond, Cecilia realized the foolishness of her question.
“Jules. Wake up!” Changing tactics, Cecilia gripped one of Juliet’s shoulders and shook it lightly. The sleeping beauty merely wrinkled her nose and gurgled some incomprehensible sound.
Cecilia rolled her eyes, remembering how much trouble Juliet had given their governess, and later their schoolteacher at their seminary, with waking up. If they had any appointments first thing in the morning, an extra ten minutes needed to be accounted for in the tiresome battle to rouse Juliet.
This time Cecilia dropped any pretense of being gentle and took her sister’s limp shoulders in both hands, shaking her roughly. Juliet startled awake and cried out more nonsense.
“Shh!” Cecilia clapped a hand over Juliet’s mouth, leaping over her body to the other side of the bed and squirming under the covers, prepared to duck should anyone decide to check in on the room.
“Sis...what are you doing here? Is it time to call on someone? Is breakfast ready?” Juliet scooted herself into a seated position, rubbing her eyes with both hands.
Since a few moments passed and no one burst into the room looking for a disturbance, Cecilia also propped herself up against a pillow.
“I’m sorry for waking you. It's just that my mind is in turmoil. Perhaps turmoil is too negative a word. In any case, it is restless and keeping me from sleep.” Cecilia dropped her head back against the headboard, allowing resignation to sweep through her body and soften her into the plush bed.
Juliet yawned and then chuckled. “I figured you might be sneaking in here sometime soon.”
“Why’s that?” Cecilia demanded.
“You’re my sister. You've been my best friend my entire life. I know when something troubles you, even if I don’t know exactly what it is. But this time, I think I could wager a pretty sum with complete confidence.”
“Jules, you know gambling isn’t an appropriate topic for us.” Cecilia couldn’t stop herself chiding her younger sister and her sometimes unorthodox statements.
“I know, Sissy. That's why I only say such things with you. I know my place, for the most part. In any case, I suspect that a certain baron has been pacing through your thoughts tonight.”
Cecilia shouldn’t have been surprised that her sister guessed correctly right away, but a wave of heat still swept over her entire body. She hid herself under the covers again.
“I see I have the right of it,” Juliet laughed. “You two did look so very sweet together at the last ball and tonight during the dinner. The sight almost made me nauseous, it was so sweet.”
The younger woman grimaced and Cecilia sprung up from beneath the blanket to box her sister on the ear.
“Ow!” Juliet cried out in a whisper, ducking from another blow. “You’ve been in such a daze ever since that ball, and I just knew you were thinking of Lord Neil the whole time. Your behavior at the dinner proved me right.”
“Don’t mock me!” Cecilia grumbled through gritted teeth, trying to wrap her arms around her sister so she could give her a proper punishment.
Juliet squirmed, nearly falling out of bed in the process, breathless giggles from both girls filling up the once silent room. But their energy quickly ebbed as arms and legs ceased flailing, the blanket tangled up around them in a dreadful mess.
Cecilia caught her breath and smiled wearily. It had been quite a long time since they’d been able to tussle with each other without restraint. Most likely not since they were little girls, and even then their governess or their mother would break up their playfights with clicking tongues and harsh reminders of ladylike conduct.
But alone in the darkness of Juliet’s room, they could be honest with each other, uninhibited. And Cecilia knew it was high time for a heart-to-heart.
“You are right. You've seen right through me. Or was I just that obvious?” Cecilia asked sheepishly, her mind recalling every instance with Lord Neil and wondering if everyone else in the world had seen what she’d been blind to.
Juliet rolled onto her side to face her older sister. “You didn’t make a fool of yourself if that’s what you’re asking. Some girls will cling to a man’s arm even as he tries to shake her off or bat her eyelashes so rapidly she could take flight the next second.” A tinge of distaste colored her voice.
“Come now, Juliet. That’s a bit harsh, don’t you think? It’s what women have to do if they hope to catch the affection of a well-bred man and make a good match to secure their future,” Cecilia reasoned, though such affectations looked silly to her as well.
But she couldn’t blame ladies, especially young debutantes with hopes of falling in love, securing a good match, and marrying all in their first Season, for trying so hard. In fact, she had likely done just the same when she made her debut. But she’d settled into more comfortable behavior after failing to find the man she dreamed of in her first year.
Of course Cecilia still minded all the rules of proper etiquette and conduct, but no longer did she simper and sigh at any man she danced or walked with only to find him shallow or uncaring. But she knew her discerning attitude was gossiped about here and there in the Society circles they frequented.
Juliet groaned. “I know it is not their fault. Still, it all feels so disingenuous. How can you know that the person you court is really the person you will end up marrying? Is anyone in this city a real, honest person?”
“I still have hope that there are some who act as their true selves, yes.”
“Of course you mean to say Lord Neil.”
“And Lord Overton, as well. I know what they say about him, but he always seems so charming and pleasant. And besides, he looks utterly taken with you whenever he’s in your presence.” Cecilia nudged Juliet in the ribs with her elbow playfully, trying to break her sister out of the dark turn her thoughts had taken.
“Let’s not talk about him for now, shall we? You came here to talk about your baron after all.” Juliet quickly changed the subject and continued before Cecilia could protest. “You know what they say. A girl in love can hardly sleep because her reality is finally better than her dreams.”
“In love?!” Cecilia shot upright, ignoring Juliet’s shushes. “Jules, I think it is far too early to be speaking of love.”
“Is it? I know you weren’t terribly fond of him at the start and, despite the fact that you haven’t engaged in a lot of conversation even when you have been out together, I always see that silent current of curiosity between you. You look as though you want to speak with him, yet you don’t know what to say or how to say it so you remain silent, and he looks as though he suffers the same struggle.
“And I’ve seen the way you look at him, and the way he looks at you, even if no words are said. But don’t tell me. Are you still caught up with that man from the masquerade? Is that why you haven’t been able to converse with Lord Neil as comfortably?”
Cecilia squirmed under the blanket as her sister read her mind.
“No.... Well, at least not so much anymore. I did indeed hold back at first because I didn’t believe Lord Neil to be the gentleman I sought. And at times I felt that my company was a burden upon him. Perhaps I have misread that aspect of him. But Jules, after recent events I believe that Lord Neil and the masked gentleman may just very well be one and the same.”
“Truly?” Juliet
gasped, gripping the blanket tightly under her chin, eyes round as if Cecilia had told her a ghost story. Although perhaps the likelihood of Cecilia’s speculation being correct was as farfetched as any ghost.
“Truly. He said something to me at the last ball during our dance that almost exactly mirrored something that gentleman told me during the masquerade. Then suddenly everything about the way he moved seemed so familiar. And earlier today at his home...everything just felt like it was falling into place. I only wish there was some way I could find out for certain.” Cecilia trailed off forlornly.
“Would it be so horrible to simply ask him directly?”
Cecilia blanched at the idea and shook her head vigorously.
“I know it seems like the easy solution, and I could have done so long ago. But now that my heart is warming toward him, I fear that if he is not the masked man, I’ll always wonder what could have been.”
“Ah, so you admit your heart is warming toward him.” Juliet eyed Cecilia with a mischievous smile and Cecilia blushed in response.
“You have missed the point of what I said. But yes. If you must have it in precise wording, I do believe I am becoming attached to the baron. I can’t yet go so far as to say I am in love. But the possibility that my feelings could grow in that direction are there.”
Cecilia didn’t look at her sister as she finally spoke what had been weighing heavily on her heart and mind these past several days. She fiddled with the edge of the blanket to give her nerves something to do.
“I don’t see anything wrong with that. In fact, it seems like a wonderful thing to me,” Juliet whispered warmly.
She took one of Cecilia’s hands in her own and squeezed it gently. Cecilia looked up to see her sister gazing at her with nothing but happiness.
“Now that you have the baron in your life, do you really need to find the identity of the masked gentleman? Whether he and Lord Neil are indeed the same person or not, that night led you to a fortuitous meeting. Perhaps it is now time to focus on what you have before you.
“I know your ideals, sister. You want someone you can be a true companion to, someone you can love for their mind and spirit. And you want someone who sees the same in you. If I may be so bold, I think there is a great chance that Lord Neil could finally be the one to match you.”
Juliet smiled encouragingly as she spoke, keeping her hand firmly around Cecilia’s. Cecilia paused to consider the words. They echoed what she herself had been feeling, though she hadn’t been able to put it into words. Hearing them said so eloquently from Juliet confirmed for Cecilia that this was correct.
“My goodness. When did you become so wise and mature?”
“I am only this way because I’ve been watching my big sister for my entire life. I've learned so much from you. Especially what it means to stick to one’s beliefs. But I've also watched your worry grow as you’ve gone through multiple Seasons without making a match. I'm simply happy that it seems your patience and perseverance will pay off in the best way possible.”
Juliet dropped her head onto Cecilia’s shoulder and clung to her arm. Cecilia realized that she must be quite tired.
“Thank you, Jules. I’m still not sure how all this will unfold. I know our parents would be thrilled if I did secure a proposal from a baron. And if I do fall in love with him, Mama’s threat will come to nothing. But for the first time in a long time, I feel hopeful. Perhaps there can be a happy ending for all of us.”
The younger woman stiffened slightly. “For some of us. Mama’s threat still applies to me. But if you can maintain your beliefs, then so can I. For now, I’d rather focus on seeing you happily wedded in short order.”
Cecilia chuckled, but not without a slight flicker of guilt in her stomach. It seemed that her troubles in the marriage mart might come to an end soon, but Juliet’s battle was far from over.
But Cecilia did ardently hope that Juliet’s situation could be resolved peacefully soon. Especially considering how friendly she and the Earl of Overton seemed to be. As things progressed with Lord Neil—if they continued to progress—some attention would be taken off Juliet for the time being. But if Juliet did not wish to talk about that matter yet, Cecilia wouldn’t press her too hard. After all, there was not much to be done at this late hour.
“We can sort Mama out another time. You should go back to sleep. Thank you for hearing me out and easing the burden in my mind. You’re more than welcome to sneak into my room and do the same, if you wish.”
Cecilia climbed slowly out of the bed to keep any wayward creaks at bay and Juliet slipped back down into a comfortable position. She already looked half asleep.
“I will, Sissy. I promise,” she mumbled, snuggling deeper under the covers. Her breathing steadied in an instant.
Cecilia made to leave the room, but she turned back to her sister’s already sleeping form. At this moment, Juliet looked so much like the innocent, untroubled child she’d grown up beside. Cecilia leaned down to give her younger sister a quick peck on the forehead. She smiled as she left Juliet’s room and tiptoed down the hallway back to her own. When had Juliet grown up so much?
Her heart dropped slightly as she closed the door on her bedroom. She’d left out only one small detail of her troubled thoughts: Lord Neil’s letter from Frye Publishing.
Chapter 12
Several agonizing days passed after Henry’s dinner before the next scheduled outing with the Richards sisters. He missed her. He admitted it to himself openly now. Miss Richards had only been in his home for a few hours, yet her ghost lingered in every corner. If he became too lost in thought, he could swear that he felt her presence by his side.
Perhaps it was this hollow feeling that finally broke Henry's mental barriers surrounding his book. Whenever Miss Richards took over his mind, Henry rushed to his writing desk and scribbled away at the page, spilling out word after word.
The world and its many pointless obligations had always distracted Henry from writing, and now writing distracted him from the world—specifically from one particular inhabitant of the world, the one with golden hair and deep blue eyes and a melodic laugh.
The light drained out of the sky as he peered over the side of Solomon’s carriage, watching London bleed by as the driver steered the horses toward Covent Garden.
Crowds gathered in the street as Society’s most elite members filed out of their carriages and into the theater. Families with young daughters and sons eyed the other guests, looking for acquaintances or potential matches to be introduced to. Lords and ladies greeted each other eagerly with handshakes, bows, and curtsies. The women fawned over each other’s dresses while the men heartily complimented each other on their superbly cut coats and shining boots.
The entire display looked like an unspoken competition to Henry. Who was being courted by the most eligible bachelors and which young lady had the finest dowry? Who wore the latest fashions and who exhibited the most grace and sparkling manners? Who had the most connections among the ton, proving their worth through a collection of shallow relationships?
Henry felt himself growing stiff as he and Solomon alighted from the carriage. He rarely came to the theater. In fact, he’d only gone once last Season and none at all this Season, until tonight. At times Henry regretted not participating more as he loved the drama and farce. Watching words from a page come to life through acting was, in Henry’s opinion, a very special form of art.
Unfortunately for the rest of Society, the masterful storytelling seemed to come second to the opportunity to show off their clothing, their marriageable children, and their acquaintances in high places. As a result, Henry typically avoided the theater at all costs.
Yet when Solomon had suggested inviting the Richards family to watch a Shakespeare play at Covent Garden, Henry accepted without a second thought. He eagerly anticipated spending time with Miss Richards again.
That feeling held firm in Henry’s heart as they entered the theater to wait for the rest of their party, despite hi
s uncomfortable awareness of the hundreds of people gathered here and their boisterous chatter. His desire to spend time with Miss Richards eclipsed even that which would normally have sent him into a dizzying cloud of nerves. The image of the smile he hoped to receive steadied him.
Solomon, who had never had any such qualms, strolled through the room, greeting friends from his various clubs and bowing low over the hands of ladies who hoped to be courted by him.
Of course, Solomon was turned out in his finest, a fact which did not go unnoticed. Solomon enjoyed the grand display of such events but, unlike everyone else, Henry knew that he did not dress out to compete or prove his status. Rather, he loved fashion and discussing trends with his likeminded friends.
Being left momentarily to his own devices, Henry found a spot by the wall with a view of the door so that he might spot the Richards family when they entered, for Solomon was not likely to notice with his current engagements.
If time had felt torturously slow these past few days since he last saw her, it moved excruciatingly slow now. Henry knew that she must be arriving at any moment, but every moment that slipped by without her silhouette appearing in the doorway seemed like a cruel and unfair punishment.
Henry’s foot bounced with anxiety; he wondered if the Richards had decided to cancel at the last moment. But finally he saw her enter the crowded theater.
As always, Miss Richards was a sight to behold. But rather than trying to repress his interest, as Henry had done so many times in the past, he allowed his eyes to take in her face and figure, enjoying the deep warmth that flooded his chest.
Despite the many ladies in the room, all dressed up in their most beautiful gowns, Henry considered Miss Richards to be in a league all her own. The dress she wore was exquisite, even to his untrained eye, but her face captured him the most.