The Midnight Heiress (Once Upon a Regency Book 2)

by Ashtyn Newbold

  Aiden took a step back, offering a polite bow. Confusion tore through him. The butler stepped aside to welcome a new throng of guests into the entry hall, and Aiden moved to allow them entrance. He retreated down the steps, his mind racing.

  A familiar carriage rode past, and he averted his face, knowing it to be his stepfather’s carriage. He circled around the side of the house, watching as Lord Aveley and Evan descended from the coach. He waited for Miles to emerge, but he was not among them.

  Evan grinned triumphantly as he walked over the grass. Aiden was close enough to the front entrance to hear them.

  Lord Aveley was greeted by a woman that could only be the duchess, regally dressed with perfect posture. He bowed. “I regret to inform you that my eldest son, the Earl of Orsett was unable to attend this evening. He is not well, I’m afraid.” His voice was strained, and Aiden caught the suppressed grin on Evan’s face.

  It would not surprise Aiden in the slightest if he found that Evan had been responsible for Miles’s being unwell that evening.

  The two men entered the house, disappearing among the crowd of eager guests. Aiden could not help but notice that most of the guests were young men, as if the duke and duchess had designed this ball in an attempt to find a husband for their daughter. How many would have sinister motivations similar to Evan’s?

  Aiden’s heart sunk at the suspicion that had been on his mind since the moment he had first met Kate. He had met the heiress’s maid tonight, and it was not her. Could she have lied about her position in the household? Could she not be a maid at all?

  He thought of her fine dresses and clear skin and soft hands. Her refined voice and manners. He had suspected it, but he had been given no reason to doubt Kate’s word. The truth of it now seemed so obvious.

  She was the duke’s daughter. She was the heiress of Silverbard—the one Evan planned to force into marriage.

  A surge of emotions entered Aiden’s chest—anger at Evan’s intentions and Kate’s deception, disappointment, fear, worry. He stepped away from his place at the side of the house and took stride across the grass, purpose in his steps. He approached amid a crowd of guests, reaching the duchess. She blanched when he attempted to walk past without introduction.

  “I do not believe we have met.” Her eyes took him in with curiosity, falling upon his fine attire and returning to his face.

  “I come from Colborne Hall, your grace.” Lord Aveley would murder him if he confessed to be his stepson and not merely a servant. Before he could explain his identity, the duchess’s face ignited with pleasure, her smile wide and her cheeks flushed. “Oh, Lord Orsett, you are most welcome here. I must confess myself surprised at your arrival. Your father claimed you were unwell.”

  Aiden froze, a denial hovering on his lips. His eyes shifted to the ballroom, where he caught a glimpse of Evan, a satisfied sneer on his lips as he surveyed the crowd. Aiden could not leave Kate to face Evan alone.

  He cleared his throat. “I was only a trifle ill, your grace. I could not miss the opportunity to be acquainted with your daughter.”

  “Oh, I am very glad you have come.” The duchess motioned for him to enter, whispering his name to the footman that would announce his entrance to the crowded ballroom. As he drew closer to the ballroom doors, he searched the crowd for any sight of Lord Aveley and Evan. If he was introduced as Lord Orsett his ruse would end before it had even begun. Was there an alternate entrance he could take? His heart pounded hard against his chest as he approached.

  Lord Aveley and Evan stood on the opposite side of the ballroom. With guests being announced continuously, it was possible they could miss his introduction. Both men were engaged in conversation when the footman announced Aiden’s entrance.

  “His lordship, the Earl of Orsett.”

  Aiden stepped swiftly away from the doorway, one eye fixed on his stepfather and Evan. They did not look up from their conversation, the nearby music and chatter enough to disguise the footman’s loud, albeit inferior voice.

  Aiden breathed a sigh of relief as he found a place behind a crowd of men, avoiding being seen by his stepfather. He noticed several eyes upon him, a challenge in the gaze of almost every gentleman he passed. Only then did he see Kate—or rather, Lady Katherine, standing alone on the outskirts of the ballroom. A man who, by his air of superiority, could only be the duke, stood at her side, seemingly intent to introduce her to every man in the room.

  Miss Kate was the duke’s daughter. Here was his proof.

  And now both she and the duke stared across the room at Aiden, who they supposed to be Lord Orsett. He froze.

  What had he done?

  CHAPTER 10

  K ate blinked to clear her vision, her ears ringing with the sound of the footman’s name as he had announced Lord Orsett. She had turned toward the door at the announcement, and despite her mother’s every instruction of keeping a proper expression at all times, her jaw had dropped.

  It must have been a mistake. Aiden could not have been Lord Orsett. But his appearance—his fine clothing and combed hair and handsome brown eyes staring across the room at her showed every sign of nobility. Had he truly been pretending, just as she had, to be someone else? But why had he warned her to beware of Lord Aveley’s sons? He was one of them.

  Her heart hammered against the tight stays that had been laced around her lungs, the long train of her gown brushing against the ballroom floor as she approached him. She wanted to be angry that he had deceived her, but how could she? She had done the same to him.

  Relief so strong flooded through her body, bringing a smile of wonder and awe to her cheeks. Her father held her back by the elbow. “Not so fast, my dear.” He gave a low chuckle. “I must introduce you. I have not yet been acquainted with the young earl myself.”

  She stopped her advance, her cheeks hot. Her father approached him before ushering Kate forward. “May I present my daughter, Lady Katherine Golding.”

  Kate’s heart thudded as she met Aiden’s eyes. He had never looked more handsome. His eyes shone under the flames that lit the ballroom as he stared back at her. She wanted to speak with him privately, to explain why she had lied to him, to inquire after why he had lied to her. She felt a misunderstanding still hanging between them, tightening the air with unanswered questions.

  “It is a pleasure to meet you, Lord Orsett.” Kate dropped her head in a bow, her limbs shaking. She met his eyes, prodding him with her gaze. What reason could he have had to pretend to be a servant? Did he have the same reasons she had? She could not think of him by any other name but Aiden. But was that even his true Christian name?

  “As promised, I have reserved my daughter’s first two dances for you.” Kate’s father addressed the earl. “The first set is to begin shortly.”

  Chagrin flushed Aiden’s cheeks, and he gave a nod. “Yes, of course.”

  Kate’s father spoke again in a cheerful voice. “Why did you not arrive with Lord Aveley and your brother?”

  “They assumed I was not well enough to come.” He cleared his throat, his expression somewhat panicked as he looked across the room at who she assumed was Lord Aveley and Lord Evan Browning.

  Kate’s stomach turned when she saw the son, his ghostly white skin and black hair, his sneering red lips as he surveyed the crowd. Her worries ceased when she looked at Aiden. He would not allow any harm to befall her. She felt even more safe beside him than her own father. Her father was far too trusting of men of high birth. Aiden knew enough of his own brother’s character to know that he meant trouble. Aiden gave a tight smile. “But I am well enough.”

  “Indeed.” Kate’s father studied him for a long moment as, to her relief, the music began with new vigor.

  “Go, enjoy the dance!” her father ushered the couple forward, and Kate stepped into line across from Aiden. Every eye in the room watched her—watched Aiden. How could they speak of their deception here, in front of so many watchful people? Her heart thudded as the first steps of the dance brought them
together, their hands touching briefly before breaking apart.

  “Aiden,” she whispered as she drew near to him once again. Tears suddenly burned behind her eyes. “I am sorry,” she breathed.

  She followed the steps of the dance as they carried her away, and back again. “I should not have lied to you. But I can see now that you have pretended to be a servant as well.”

  His jaw was firm, his eyes searching hers. “I did pretend. But not in the way you assume. I am a servant of a sort.”

  The suspense tightened her muscles as she moved away, coming back again. He gripped her hand in his. “I am not who you believe me to be.” He looked at the nearby couples, who were quite obvious in their attempts to overhear the conversation.

  “Then who are you?” she whispered.

  “No one of consequence.”

  “All people are of consequence.”

  She circled around him, their hands lightly touching, the warmth threading down her arm and touching her heart with uncertainty.

  “I came to ensure no harm could befall you.” He leaned close to her ear as he passed. “Forgive me, but my identity was mistaken upon my entrance.”

  Her heart fell and a new surge of emotion gripped her throat. “You are not the earl?”

  He gave a subtle shake of his head, a rueful movement that brought melancholy to her bones. “Then who are you?” she repeated, careful to hide the desperation in her voice. The hope she had felt was quickly fading. It would have been too fortuitous for him to truly be Lord Orsett. Too good to be true.

  The song ended, and they bowed to each other. He walked forward, his eyes flashing. “I will explain it all to you, but I cannot do so here. My ruse will be discovered soon.” He looked to the right, where Lord Aveley and his son stared, mouths agape and eyes heavy with anger. They were connected to him somehow, Kate could clearly decipher. Perhaps he was their servant after all. Her heart sank.

  “Will you be punished for coming here, for interfering with Lord Evan’s scheme?” Her voice shook.

  He grasped her hand. “Do not worry over me.”

  “But I cannot help it.” She wanted to speak the words that hung on her lips, that pounded in her throat. She cared for him deeply, more than she had ever cared for anyone. She couldn’t bear the thought of never seeing him again.

  He gave her a soft smile, squeezing her hand before releasing it. The crowd watched the exchange intently, Kate’s father with deep pleasure. When he discovered that Aiden was not Lord Orsett, he would be furious.

  “Does Lord Aveley know that you pretended to be his son?”

  “No.” Aiden shook his head. “But he will discover the truth soon enough. It is obvious he is not pleased to see me here.”

  “So you cannot stay?” She wanted to cling to his arm, to run away from the stifling ballroom and away from her father’s expectations. From the corner of her eye, she saw Lord Evan approaching with long strides. His father followed close behind. “The gardens,” she blurted. “I will be in the gardens.”

  She met Aiden’s eyes quickly, the confirmation in them evident as she pulled away from his side. As she hurried past her father, she muttered, “I feel unwell.”

  His protest was muffled by the surrounding voices as she pushed through the crowd, cursing her thick petticoat and long skirts as she brushed through the doorway. The slippers she wore fit perfectly, soft and light, the one comfortable piece of clothing she had been allowed to wear to the ball. Her feet carried her lightly across the marble floors and out the back door of the house. She turned to the left, entering the intricate maze of shrubbery and flowers.

  When she was sufficiently hidden, she sat down on a stone bench, her breath quick with the exertion of her swift escape, and the fear that came at the prospect of the punishment that would await Aiden.

  And herself.

  She put her face in her hands, reminding her of the day she had been sitting in the gardens of Silverbard, plagued by the presence of Mr. Boyle. His high-pitched voice entered her mind, the memory jarring.

  It took the briefest of moments for her to realize that the voice she heard did not come from a memory. Her shoulders jerked up, her face flying out from the cover of her hands. In the dark shadow of a hedge, hidden from the moonlight, came the voice again.

  “You look positively ravishing this evening, my lady.”

  A chill touched the back of her neck, an icy grip coming over her limbs. It was not Aiden. “Who are you?”

  A chuckle, more of a masculine giggle, came through the breezy air. “A man of great consequence.”

  She moved slowly to her feet as the figure of Lord Evan Browning appeared in the darkness. She swallowed, sickening dread pooling in her stomach. “Sir, we have not been introduced. I—”

  “Come now, you do not seem intent on following the rules of society.” He stepped closer, the milky whiteness of his skin making stark contrast with his dark eyes and crimson lips. His mouth stretched into a smile, his crooked teeth making a startling appearance. “You danced the last set with a servant, after all.” His giggle came again, louder, with a note of frustration. “A servant of my household.” His feet carried him closer, and she backed away from the bench. “What did he tell you? Hmm? Did he flatter you into believing he cared for you? It is a skill he possesses. Did he tell you he was not such a servant? Did he claim a relation to my family?”

  She narrowed her eyes at him. “Pray, sir, do not come a step closer.”

  He stopped his approach, a wild sneer of amusement on his face. “You would let a servant close but not a gentleman?”

  “A servant that behaves as a gentleman should, is much better than a gentleman who behaves like a rogue.” She snapped the words at him, holding her chin high despite the fear that trembled her legs.

  He tipped his head back, laughing up at the moon. “Ah, my lady, you have been deceived. The man you claim to be a gentleman has nothing in his sight but your fortune. He hopes to climb the ranks of society and escape his life of poverty. That is his only design upon you.”

  She did not believe a word of it. She had learned how to sort out the fortune hunters. Aiden was not one of them. He met her as Miss Kate, knowing nothing of her fortune. He was honorable, good, and kind. Lord Evan Browning, however, was not.

  “I believe you speak of yourself,” she said. “Now, please return to the ballroom and leave me.”

  His amusement was fading quickly, replaced with hot anger. She stepped back fast, unwilling to turn her back on him. Her heart raced with fear as her back crashed against a shrub. He took advantage of her immobility, lunging forward and clasping her upper arm in his grip. She cried out, but he covered her mouth with one hand.

  His dark eyes glistened inches from hers, desperation to the point of madness within them. “You will enter my carriage without a sound. We will made a dash for Scotland, where we will elope. If you do not comply, I will ensure that Aiden Notley has the most miserable life it is in my power to give him. My father will ensure the same.”

  She tried to shake her head as tears streamed down her cheeks, but he held her face tightly. “Not a sound, my dear.”

  She gritted her teeth, her pulse pounding in her ears. Where was Aiden? It had been several minutes since she had escaped to the gardens. Surely he would be coming soon. She simply needed to delay. But how?

  “Do we have an accord?” He pinched her face between his hand, pulling her closer. When she refused to answer, he repeated, his voice lowering, “Do we have an accord?”

  Her eyes darted in every direction, her ears straining to hear any sign that Aiden was coming. But all she heard were crickets and the raspy breathing of Evan.

  “Make haste with your answer, or I will both marry you and make Aiden’s life miserable.”

  She forced a breath through her nostrils, tearing her face away from his hand. “Yes,” she said in a hard voice.

  “Very well.” He hesitantly released the weight of his grip on her arm, wrapping her hand
gently around his elbow. He began walking, and panic rose in her throat. How could she escape? There was not another person in sight among the gardens, and the house was growing farther and farther away. Even her screams would not be heard.

  “Wait,” she blurted.

  His quick steps did not halt, and he tightened his grip on her arm. “There is no time to waste.”

  She took one more desperate glance over her shoulder, regret and fear battling for dominance within her. Would Aiden find her in time?

  A gig, hidden among the trees behind the house, awaited them with a single horse. She considered running, but her layers of skirts and length of the train would not allow it. But that could not stop her from trying. She tore her arm away from him, gathered her skirts in her hands, and ran in the direction of the house. He caught her within seconds, pulling her roughly toward him. Tears slipped from her eyes as he dragged her toward the gig. One of her slippers had fallen off in the struggle. It shone in the moonlit grass, solitary and beautiful, despite the terrifying dread that hummed in the air. She stared at the gold satin fabric, the image blurred behind her liquid eyes.

  “You will be wise to not try that again.” Lord Evan’s disturbingly high voice came close to her ear, his wet breath against it. All she could do was comply and hope—pray that they would be discovered.

  Lord Evan gripped her at the waist, lifting her into the gig, his hands lingering there. He grinned up at her, his white hand reaching to stroke her cheek. She turned her face away in disgust.

  “Come now, you are to be my wife. You mustn’t shy away from my touch forever.”

  She shuddered, crossing her arms, the dread intensifying in her stomach. She felt she might be ill. Could she jump from the gig and make a dash for the house? If she screamed loud enough she would possibly be heard by one of the footmen outside. But if she did not comply, then Lord Evan would ensure a life of misery from Aiden. She could never aid in securing him such a fate. Love required sacrifice. Aiden had risked so much in coming to the ball to protect her. A knot formed in her throat.