Moonstruck Madness

by Laurie McBain

  Sabrina took a small heart-shaped black velvet patch and carefully placed it near the corner of her mouth; then taking a small pot of color, rouged her lips. She stared back at her reflection as if seeing a stranger. Her black hair had disappeared beneath its lavish powdering of white and sparkled with a spray of diamonds behind one ear when she moved her head.

  “You look beautiful, Rina,” Mary told her simply, her own red hair powdered white and held in place with gold hairpins. A small gold locket hung from her neck, matching the gold rings in her ears and a golden girdle buckle set with pearls around her waist. “It was kind of the contessa to lend you some of her diamonds,” Mary said as she stared at the sparkling gems.

  “Kind?” Sabrina repeated doubtfully, then standing up she pulled on her musk-scented, elbow-length gloves and picking up her fan and purse, turned to Mary. “Shall we go?”

  The marquis and the contessa were waiting in the salon, the marquis finely attired in a cream silk suit embroidered in claret, while the contessa was resplendent in burgundy damask with blood-red rubies clasped around her neck.

  “Belle,” the contessa whispered beneath her breath as she stared in amazement at the two sisters, her eyes glowing with pleasure at the result.

  “My God, I had no idea the contrast between you would be so startling,” the marquis said, clapping his hands in excitement, the impatient expression that had been on his face immediately lifting as he stared in awe at his two beautiful daughters. “This is marvelous. I am so pleased, but now, to add a touch of mystery, put on these masks,” he told them, handing them each a black velvet half-mask. “It’s quite in vogue.”

  Sabrina tied hers on and stared at herself in the mirror, a grin widening her mouth as she started to laugh. She turned to face Mary, who after a startled gasp of dismay, started to laugh also.

  The marquis frowned ominously. “What is so damned funny?” he demanded peevishly, looking from one masked daughter to the other in exasperation.

  “I always wondered how it felt, Rina,” Mary said with a nervous giggle.

  “How ironic that I should attend my first ball in a mask,” Sabrina chuckled as she straightened the mask over her small nose.

  “Well, damned if I know what you two are talking about,” the marquis grumbled. The contessa was silent, however, as she continued to stare in fascination at Sabrina’s masked face.

  “There is something so familiar…” she spoke softly, a puzzled look on her lovely face.

  “Come, we must go, we’re already much too late as it is,” the marquis interrupted. “Here, these just arrived from the dressmaker’s.” He handed them each a scarf to cover their shoulders, Mary’s white velvet, and Sabrina’s a thin gauze that encircled her shoulders in a silver cloud.

  They rode in silence along the London streets, the coach wheels on the cobbles the only sound as they moved towards Berkeley Square until the noise of other coaches, with yelling coachmen directing fellow coachmen to unsavory places, disturbed them.

  “Damned traffic,” the marquis cursed as he looked out at the long line of coaches waiting their turn to unload their passengers at the party.

  They lurched forward, then stopped, then moved forward a little, time and time again, before finally coming to a halt before the well-lighted entrance of the great town house, the liveried footmen escorting the guests along the red carpet rolled across the walk and up to the doors.

  Mary’s fingers closed over Sabrina’s as they followed the marquis and the contessa into the crowded entrance hall, chandeliers glowing with light above their heads as they moved through the throng, the marquis crying out greetings to acquaintances as they passed. He smiled superciliously at the curious and interested stares he was receiving as he ascended the grand staircase surrounded by his beautiful wife and daughters.

  “Darling James,” a bejeweled woman cried joyously at sight of the marquis. “I was hoping you would return to London in time for my little ball.” She turned her avid gaze on the two masked figures standing silently beside the marquis. “I’ve already met your wife, the contessa,” she said, giving the contessa a slight smile, “but did I hear correctly? These surely can’t be your daughters, darling? Why, I had no idea you even had a family,” she remarked with feigned surprise, and giving the contessa an arch look, added delicately, “Of course, they could be the contessa’s daughters? You are old enough, I suppose, to be their mother?”

  The contessa smiled thinly. “No, they are James’s first wife’s daughters, but soon I shall be the mother of his child,” she informed Lady Harrier, and making a moue of her mouth, said regretfully, “A pity, is it not, when a woman becomes too old to bear the child, eh?” She looked at the older woman understandingly.

  Lady Harrier drew in her breath sharply, her mouth tight. “Why haven’t I seen these daughters of yours before? Keeping them hidden away, have you?”

  The marquis smiled artlessly, his face the picture of innocence.

  “How can you think such a thing, Lady Harrier? I’ve merely been waiting for the proper opportunity, shall we say, of introducing my lovely daughters to proper society.” He turned a beaming face of fatherly pride on his daughters. “Allow me to introduce you to Lady Mary, my eldest, and little Lady Sabrina, who I am told takes after her father,” he said modestly.

  Lady Harrier was amused. “I can see that this evening will be quite extraordinary, you devil. You shall have all of my guests, especially those in breeches, burning with curiosity to have a peek beneath those tantalizing masks.”

  “Do you really think so?” the marquis asked ingenuously.

  Lady Harrier gave a disbelieving laugh. “The devil take you, James, now go and find some rich suitors for these daughters of yours.”

  As they moved on, joining the crowd milling about, the marquis seemed to be searching for certain faces, introducing Mary and Sabrina to select persons only, snubbing those he felt were beneath him. Sabrina couldn’t help but become caught up in the excitement as the drifting sounds of musicians warming up rose above the din of conversing voices, her small foot beginning to tap in anticipation.

  The marquis stopped abruptly before a plump young man in pale blue brocade, pulling Mary and Sabrina close beside him. “Your grace,” he began audaciously, “you’ve not met my rustic beauties on their first visit to town. Mary, Sabrina, meet the Duke of Granston, my daughters, your grace.”

  They curtsied politely, the duke kissing their gloved hands, a spark of interest in his pale eyes. “M’pleasure, ladies,” he slurred drunkenly. “Care t’dance?” And without waiting for an answer he swept Mary off into the dancing crowd.

  “Devilish rich,” the marquis whispered to the contessa, a satisfied smile on his lips. “See how easy it will be, Luciana? We’ll be rich enough to buy half of Venice if we want.”

  The contessa laughed mockingly. “It would be wise, caro, not to anticipate too much, just yet,” she cautioned gently.

  “Yes, my lord,” Sabrina added caustically, “one needs an acquiescent bride, and then, of course, a willing groom. Do you believe your good fortune will run to both?”

  The marquis gave Sabrina a look of dislike. “I knew the first minute I saw you, you were a troublemaker,” he said, “but just don’t you forget what I told you, remember?” He looked at her meaningfully, then said to the contessa, “I’ll be back shortly, I see someone I want to have a word with.”

  Sabrina’s mouth was mutinous beneath her mask as she watched the marquis walk jauntily off into the crowd. She was so absorbed in her thoughts that she jumped when cool fingers touched her arm.

  “Child, it does little good to fight him,” the contessa said softly. “He will have his way, and I think there is little you can do about it.”

  “You think not?” Sabrina replied bitterly.

  The contessa shrugged. “I know you do not have the feelings of love for James, and I admit
that he has not been the good papa, but he is my husband now. I know his faults, but when I look into his violet eyes, so much like yours, then all is forgiven and forgotten.

  “Someday a man will look into your eyes, little Sabrina, and he will forget your faults, as well. Oh, yes, you have the faults your papa does. You think not? You are obstinate, temperamental, willful, and very beautiful. You are used to getting your own way, and now your papa has come and upset your plans. I am sorry for this, but I must look after my own. We are in need of money, and if you were to marry a rich man, well…” she said, smiling apologetically, “it would be acceptable for us to receive a settlement.”

  “In other words,” Sabrina said angrily, “a payment. I am to be bought by the richest customer.”

  “You do not put it so very nicely, but it is true. It is the way it has always been. A man either marries for beauty or money; unfortunately, they do not often come together. So, in your case, it will be for beauty. He will have to be very rich to get you, Sabrina.”

  Sabrina turned from her in disgust, the glitter of the ball suddenly looking tawdry and sickening her.

  “You are too cynical for one so young,” the contessa commented, giving Sabrina a penetrating look. “Of course, it has not been easy for you, this I understand. You have had to support your family, which puzzles me much. How is it that your family has managed to live? I know for a fact that James has sent no money.”

  Sabrina shrugged. “We have made the estate pay, and we had a little from my mother’s father,” she lied, giving the contessa a haughty stare.

  “So, I mind my own business, Sabrina.” The contessa laughed, not offended by her stepdaughter’s aloofness. “You are the proud one, eh? I think your papa is going to have trouble with you.”

  Sabrina smiled, her eyes glinting behind their mask. “More than he could possibly believe. Mi scusi, contessa,” Sabrina murmured before being led away by an overly eager partner.

  The contessa’s mouth dropped open momentarily as she remembered another masked face that had spoken in the same husky Italian. Dio mio, she thought in disbelief. It could not possibly be! But there had been something troubling her about that highwayman—and also about this little one. She had thought her suspicions ridiculous at the time, but now, she was not so sure. It is something only a woman would have sensed, a certain recognition despite the disguise.

  “What are you giving such concentrated thought to?” the marquis asked as he came up beside the contessa, slipping his arm around her waist.

  The contessa turned to him, startled, then relaxed her features into a caressing smile. “Nothing, caro, nothing to concern you. I’m just planning how to spend our money,” she prevaricated. For now, this discovery would be her secret, and should the little one become too difficult—then she would use this startling information to their advantage.

  “Well, in all modesty, Luciana, my daughters are causing quite a sensation,” he boasted, a satisfied smile on his lips as he watched Mary and Sabrina dance past in the arms of two very eligible partners. “I do not foresee any difficulties in obtaining sons-in-law with the necessary requirements, my dear. No trouble at all.”

  Sabrina lost count of the names and faces of the rich suitors the marquis paraded before her. Her feet were tired and her head ached abominably. If only she could sit down for a brief moment.

  “I do believe I cannot move another inch,” she told the young man who was dancing with her. She gave him a dimpled smile, her violet eyes glowing behind the mask as she stared up at him.

  “Of course, my dear Lady Sabrina, how thoughtless of me not to see how fatigued you are,” the young gentleman quickly apologized, masking his disappointment at losing such a delectable creature as a partner. He led her off the floor, reluctant to part with her, and spying a footman with a tray of champagne-filled goblets, suggested shyly, “If you would care for a breath of fresh air, allow me to escort you into the garden, and then I will fetch you some champagne?”

  Sabrina smiled gratefully, her eyes lighting up with genuine warmth. “That would be marvelous, you are too kind.”

  The young gentleman beamed with pleasure as he stared in bemusement into Sabrina’s beautiful eyes, then making a flustered departure disappeared back into the crowd as Sabrina relaxed on a stone seat beneath the balustrade of a balcony. She had only been sitting there a moment when she was startled from her relaxed state by the sound of voices practically beside her. She glanced about quickly but saw no one, then smiled as she realized the voices were coming from overhead. The couple had obviously sought a rendezvous in the seclusion of the balcony.

  “You’re late.”

  “I’m sorry, Percy, but I couldn’t get away from him,” Blanche complained sulkily. “You’ve hardly noticed me at all. I’ve seen you watching that creature in the mask.”

  “Come now, Blanche, you know it’s you I love,” Percy placated her. “I was merely curious about her, that is all.”

  There was a prolonged silence, and then Sabrina heard a muted giggle.

  “Now, does that prove to you that I love you?” Percy demanded smoothly.

  “Oh, Percy, I wish we could be together all of the time,” Blanche pouted.

  “As a matter of fact, Blanche, I’ve been thinking that we might find that time tonight,” Percy suggested.

  “Tonight? But how on earth can we?” Blanche asked, excitement quivering in her voice.

  “You merely tell my dear cousin that you’ve the migraine and must leave the ball, then I’ll slip away as well,” he explained persuasively.

  “Oh, I don’t know.” Blanche hesitated doubtfully.

  “If you’re worried about my dear cousin, then don’t be. He’ll never miss you. All he had eyes for was that bewitching creature in black and silver.”

  Sabrina smiled without amusement, wondering if she had danced with the poor fiancé, now being deceived by his cousin and fiancée?

  “All right,” Blanche decided suddenly. “I’ll meet you, but where?”

  “We must be most careful that no one suspects. If you tell my cousin directly, he’ll insist upon you making use of his carriage, so just send him a message that you’ve left, then hire a coach to take you home, only stop around the corner and I’ll be along to pick you up in mine.”

  Sabrina remained silent as she heard them depart, a cynical smile on her lips as she thought of their little deception. She sighed impatiently wondering where the young man was who’d gone to fetch her a glass of champagne. Sabrina heard the sound of approaching footsteps and looked up expectantly, a smile of welcome on her face.

  “I thought you had forgotten me,” she said softly.

  “Forget you, Sabrina, never,” a mocking voice answered as the approaching figure stopped in front of her.

  Sabrina gave a small cry of fear as she stared up in dismay at the tall, silk-clad form of the Duke of Camareigh. “Lucien,” she whispered faintly.

  “I beg your pardon, it is Lady Sabrina Verrick, is it not?” Lucien corrected himself, his lips twisted into a faint smile of contempt. “I saw you leave with your admirer, and decided to substitute for him, much to his disappointment,” he told her, and reaching out grasped her arms with hard fingers that closed about her in a punishing grip. “Now answer me, damn you.”

  “Yes.” Sabrina confirmed her identity, wincing as he released one arm from his painful grip to jerk her mask from her face. Sabrina stared mutely up at him, as he pulled her to her feet.

  “So, history repeats itself. I seem destined to be the one to unmask you, and each time I am surprised by the revelation.” He stared down into her pale face, the light from the balcony above shining down on them. His mouth curved into a sneer as he accused her. “How you must have laughed, what a fool you must have thought me.”

  He laughed bitterly. “I could scarce believe my eyes when I first saw you dance past. I thoug
ht I must be seeing a ghost.”

  “You recognized me?” Sabrina asked in disbelief.

  “You may now be wearing skirts, but the mask is the same. Ironic, isn’t it? I must compliment you on your audaciousness. Or maybe you are so accustomed to wearing your mask that you feel naked without it? A pity for you that I happened to be here tonight to spoil your little game. Did you really imagine that you could deceive me? Your arrogant swagger gave you away.”

  Sabrina avoided his eyes and the smoldering rage she could see held in check. “I didn’t think that I would see you,” she said weakly.

  Lucien gave her an abrupt shake, making her head jerk up. “What is your game, Sabrina? What is the daughter of a marquis doing dressed up as a highwayman? Is he in this with you?” he demanded. Then suddenly a thought struck him and he gave her a penetrating look. “He doesn’t know, does he? Answer me. Does he?” Lucien’s grip became unbearable and Sabrina cried out.

  “Let me go. You’re hurting me, Lucien.”

  “Tell me what I want to know first, then I will release you,” he bargained.

  “No, he doesn’t know,” Sabrina admitted in defeat.

  Lucien’s grip loosened, but he did not let her free completely. “No, I thought his performance the night you held up my coach far too realistic to be an act. Besides, he and the contessa had just arrived in England after years abroad, so he couldn’t be aware of your activities. In fact, if I remember correctly, he commented that he had not seen his family in years. This is priceless. You held up your own father. Did you know it when you did it?”

  Sabrina gave him a defiant glance from under her lashes, her initial fright at his sudden appearance fading as her resentment built. “No, I did not know who he was. It was only when I met the contessa that I realized what had happened. As the marquis told you, we haven’t been an especially close family.”

  “I want a few answers, Sabrina,” Lucien said quietly, “and you shall not escape me this time,” he warned with a glint in his eyes.