She lunged for it like a woman starved and ripped it open, her eyes devouring the broad, elegant script that flowed across the page with swift, strong strokes.
And her heart stopped beating.
Freckles
Forgive me?
Yours,
Rhys.
“Danielle!” her aunt called through the wood of her door. “You have a visitor. Come downstairs, dear. You’ve slept the morning away, although I daresay you needed the sleep.”
Her heart began to beat again and with fury. It right near wanted to explode from her chest. Rhys had come to visit her!
She completed her toilette in about ten minutes, record time if one considered the endless stream of buttons down the back of her black mourning gown. Dani didn’t even bother with her hair but she downright burst from her room and practically ran down the stairs and into the sitting room where… Damn. It was only Victoria.
Not that she wasn’t excited to see her friend- it was just so overwhelming… the roses, the note and then the visitor. Oh God, she must be going mad if she had actually thought Rhys would call upon her at her aging aunt and uncle’s cottage. Mad.
“Dani!” Victoria jumped to her feet and flung herself into her friend’s arms, squeezing tightly. God, a hug felt good. Dani couldn’t remember the last time somebody had given her a hug. Lord knew her mother hardly touched her and Fiona, for all the affection she held for Dani, wasn’t very exhibitionist when it came to emotions.
The only person who had ever touched her in an affectionate manner had to be Vicky… and Rhys. She was so desperate for a hug she would notch his passionate embrace as one.
“It’s so good to see you,” Dani mumbled against her friend’s shoulder.
Vicky pulled away and grinned. “And you!” She bounced happily a moment before dragging her over to the sofa which she had energetically vacated.
The thing about Victoria was that she was a bundle of vibrant energy whereas Dani… was not. It wasn’t that she couldn’t keep up with her friend, but more that her back just wouldn’t let her.
“How have you been? Oh, I’m so sorry to hear of your mother, truly I am.”
“It’s alright, Vicky,” Dani said earnestly. “I’m fine.”
After a moment, Vicky pinned a beauteous smile to her lovely face. “We’ve got a lot of shopping to do,” she said cheerfully. “Starting right now. I hope you’re ready to go-”
“Vicky, you didn’t specify when exactly this ball is-”
“Oh, silly me! Gabriel’s been keeping me so busy of late-”
Dani narrowed her eyes at Victoria and the raven-haired woman blushed. “Well,” she mumbled, “that’s not really important, is it? Anyway, the ball is two nights hence.”
“That is hardly any time at all!”
Vicky gave her friend a blank look. “So?”
“Vicky, that’s hardly enough time to get costumed!”
The other woman shrugged her shoulders nonchalantly. “Don’t be ridiculous,” she said breezily. “Gabriel loaned me plenty of money to sort out both my costume and his.” Her expression turned positively naughty. “I’m thinking of making him go as a pumpkin!”
“You’re too cruel,” Dani admonished, recalling vividly Gabriel Sinclair as a dark and serious individual who would not find humour in being dressed like a big, orange vegetable.
Vicky laughed. “Oh, no I’m not. I simply adore him. But as I was saying, he gave me all this money for our two costumes and they’ll never surmount to that, so he agreed to let me have the rest as spending money-”
“How generous of him.”
“You’re mocking me, Dani,” she said slowly. “But, anyway, I was just about to tell you that I’d like nothing more than to spend some of that money securing a costume for you because I know that you could use some excitement for one night out here in the country and that you won’t be at the next season-”
“Victoria, you’re babbling.”
She grinned wryly, wrinkling her nose. “I know. Dreadful habit. Gabriel says-” At Dani’s dry look, she cleared her throat delicately. “I do love him, you know.”
“I know,” Dani assured her friend with a demonstrative pat on her hand.
“I hope that, someday, you’ll find somebody to love as much as I love Gabriel.”
She involuntarily thought of Rhys but shoved the man from her mind. It was becoming increasingly clear that she would not be able to see him today, so there was no point in letting the expectation suffocate her. She was going to enjoy her day with Victoria immensely and then tonight… she smiled secretively… well, tonight she’d pay him a visit.
It didn’t take long for Dani to realise that Victoria was intent on exhausting her. The blasted woman had too much energy for her own good and Dani was fatigued after two hours spent at Truro’s popular modiste. Unfortunately for Gabriel, he would be going as a pumpkin, after all.
However, most of the time was spent deciphering what Dani would wear to the ball and yards of dark fabric were brought forth, held up against her, pinned and pricked into her skin and so on.
Having firmly come to the conclusion that she was averse to shopping altogether, Vicky promptly dragged her to several other outlets all of which she was required to spend several further hours in each.
By the time the carriage bearing the two ladies rolled back to Dani’s cottage, it was dark and her back was in agony again. Carriage rides did not agree with her.
She allowed herself to soak in a hot bath for well over an hour before she had a bite to eat and set out for Falmouth Castle.
The same procedure occurred whereby nobody answered her summons. Not that she expected them to so she let herself in and ambled slowly up the grand staircase, sensing rather than knowing where to go.
Thankfully, there was a light streaming through from under a door on the first level, rather close to the stairs, and Dani headed in that direction. She knocked soundly before entering and her breath caught at the achingly familiar sight of him.
He was cloaked, dark and foreboding, and leaning against the hearth where a fire was lit, casting the room in a warm glow. It appeared that she had located him in his study, if the huge mahogany desk and shelves of books and correspondence were anything to go by.
His hooded face turned to her and his shoulders seemed to droop.
“Danielle.”
The flatness of his voice wasn’t as encouraging as the note had been but she clutched to the image of his bold handwriting and apology to spur her on.
“I…” What was she to say? Thank you for the flowers. It just didn’t fit the situation. “I got your note,” she mumbled expressionlessly.
“What note?”
What note? A lazy flutter of panic began to beat within her breast. Surely he was joking, or he was confused. He must be surprised by her presence and had forgotten what he had done to cause it. “The… note.”
He sighed, frustrated. “I didn’t send any note, Danielle,” he growled.
She frowned, not liking the renewed pang of humiliation and hurt threading its way through her bones. “Rhys, I saw the flowers… a-and the note. You called me… freckles.”
“Damnit, Danielle, I didn’t send any note!” he barked.
“I see.” But she didn’t. If he didn’t send the note, then who did? As far as she knew, he was the only one who had ever called her freckles and they had been quite alone in the maze that day. Oh, he was cruel and Dani was swimming in utter humiliation and hurt. It threatened to choke her and, to her horror, tears began to prick her eyes. She refused to let them fall.
“Why would I send you flowers and a note?” he raged, seething.
“I-I don’t know,” she answered flatly. “I can see I misjudged the situation. I’ll… I’ll be going now.”
“Good.”
She turned and began to exit but she stopped herself. If he was going to hurt her, then let him do it properly, because deep down in her heart she couldn’t let herself think
he didn’t send those flowers and the note. It was not in her nature not to have her say or to act like a coward. She may be quiet and reserved, but if the opportunity struck to take a stand and speak her mind, she was usually keen to obey it. So she turned back to him, noticing that he seemed a bit dejected as he leaned against the fireplace, not nearly as foreboding as he usually was.
“I’m not sure why you’re pushing me away,” she began in a strong voice, “but I won’t tolerate it, Rhys. You may not know what you want, but I do. You can’t send me away. I’m not going away. In fact, I don’t believe for one second that you didn’t send that note although why you would deny it now is beyond me. So I’m going to tell you why I decided to come here anyway and I know that you won’t like it.”
“Danielle…”
Ignoring the warning tone in his voice, she delved a hand into a pocket at her waist and pulled out the invitation she had intended giving him. “A masquerade,” she told him haughtily, lifting the invite slightly. “You should go. It would be the perfect opportunity to-”
“No!”
That stilled her. She looked at him strangely, wondering at the sharpness and anger in his voice. He was rigid now, fury pouring off him in waves and pummelling into her with a force she could feel across the chamber.
“Rhys,” she said slowly, cautiously, “I think you should consider-”
“Jesus Christ,” he hissed venomously, pushing off the mantle and prowling towards her with magnificent dynamism. “Danielle, you clearly don’t understand what danger you are in provoking me.”
She inwardly flinched at each harsh word he enunciated with livid gravity. “I don’t believe you would hurt me,” she told him quietly.
He reached her, grabbed her arm and began to yank her into stride behind him. She stumbled over her skirts but he continued to drag her along perpetually. Out the chamber. Out into the cold, dark hall. She dropped the invitation.
“Rhys,” she cried, “what are you doing?”
“Deciding,” he grated viciously, “whether to drag you to the bedroom or outside!”
“Rhys, please!” She tried to pry his fingers from her elbow that were gripping her skin like a vice and he stopped abruptly, spinning toward her.
“What?” he roared. “What do you want to tell me? Must I stand here and listen to a wisp of a woman tell me what I want? Must I?”
“No!” she snapped. How dare he talk to her like this? “You’re hurting me!”
He growled inarticulately, ripping his hand free of her as if she burned his very skin. “Escort yourself out,” he clipped.
“No,” she returned stubbornly, folding her arms and considering him belligerently.
“You try my patience!”
“And you mine!”
They were silent, staring at each other with charged animosity. Danielle was first to soften, uncrossing her arms and sighing wearily. “Just… consider the invite,” she told him forlornly. “I’ll go, but I’ll be back… after the masquerade.”
Quietly, without waiting for him to respond, she left.
Chapter 8
Lady Worthwell’s Masquerade
He wasn’t going to come.
Dani’s shoulders slumped in disappointment.
Rhys hadn’t given any inclination of being taken with the idea of a masquerade in the first place so her disappointment should not come as much of a surprise. That didn’t stop her from becoming just a little bit depressed by his absence, though.
“Who are you looking for?” Victoria demanded, plunking her hands on her hips and throwing Dani a dry look.
“No one!” Dani answered quickly, grateful that the black mask that covered most of her face hid the guilty blush infusing her cheeks.
“Liar.”
Dani huffed. “I was just seeing if anyone was here that I knew,” she lied.
Vicky gave her a disbelieving glance, which was understandable as the entire point of people wearing masks was that they wouldn’t be recognisable. Forcing herself to put Rhys from her mind, Dani turned to Victoria and smiled. “I can’t see anyone I know,” she admitted sheepishly.
Victoria looked stunning in a gown of sapphire blue, a sequinned mask covering her eyes. Gabriel, on the other hand, did not look flattering at all and upon discovery of his attire, he had inflicted a foul mood on both his wife and her companion. Currently, the man had extracted himself from their company and was skulking amid a group of his own finely attired acquaintances, leaving Vicky and Dani to their own devices.
“Not that you would want to,” Vicky said happily. “Come, let’s take a turn about the room and you can tell me all about this gentleman you’ve been looking for.”
“Vicky! I did no such thing.”
The other woman chuckled and gave her nose a conspiratorial tap before looping her arm with Dani’s. “Don’t be silly. You would think you could tell me anything, Dani. After all, we’re practically sisters. Although I must say, all those seasons we went through only to have you meet some country gentleman, such a waste of time, don’t you think?”
“Well, not all of us have the privilege of marrying our brother,” Dani teased.
“Gabriel is not my brother!” Vicky swatted Dani on the arm gently. “Don’t you dare start using that against me.”
“You two might as well be related,” Dani said. “You did grow up together.”
“Entirely against my will, I assure you,” Vicky grumbled. “The man was a perpetual nuisance and we scarcely managed a civil word to each other.”
“Mmm. How far you’ve come.”
“Yes.” Vicky turned to look at Gabriel across the crowded room and a smile touched her lips. “Now, tell me about your man. How did you meet him?”
Dani stifled a sigh. There was really no point in hiding the obvious from her closest friend. Victoria knew her better than anybody else. Even her own mother hadn’t known Dani as well as Vicky knew her. Although her mother had been submerged in spirals of self-absorbed depression, Dani’s association with her was restricted solely to tending her ailments and ensuring that she didn’t commit to anything irrational and devastating. Only Vicky knew the extent the impact her mother’s illness had on her, saw her tears of frustration and dejection. Dani couldn’t be more grateful for a friend like her in a very lonely world.
“Exploring, I suppose,” Dani explained tentatively. It wasn’t a lie, exactly. “But don’t read too much into it. He has made it very clear that he wants nothing to do with me.”
Vicky snorted dismissively. “They all do at first,” she mumbled. “What’s he like? Is he handsome?”
Lord, how to swerve around this question. Dani hummed and hawed for a few moments. “Well… I can’t say he’s bad looking,” she said, satisfied with that answer.
Vicky gave her a queer look and opened her mouth but- thankfully- her interrogation was cut short when her eyes narrowed on a particularly stunning blond accosting her orange husband from across the ballroom. “Desdemona,” she breathed venomously.
Dani rolled her eyes. Vicky, it seemed, knew the name of every beautiful woman Gabriel had associated with before his marriage and had made it her personal vendetta to weed out any nefarious intentions on his previous and would-be lovers.
“Leave it be, Vicky,” Dani urged and began to steer her in the other direction. Victoria, however, did not take her eyes from the other woman.
“Victoria, trust him. He wouldn’t dream of hurting you.”
Exquisite sapphire eyes turned to her excitedly. “Oh, I know, but it’s just so much fun chasing off his admirers.”
“You’re evil.”
She grinned wickedly in response just as their stroll was intersected by a Pirate and a Jester.
He hadn’t meant to attend. Really, he hadn’t. The last thing he had ever intended to do for the remainder of his pitiful existence was attend a wretched masque ball. For the love of God, he was a grown man, thirty-four years and counting, and he had very little interest in prancing aro
und in a bloody costume for an evening.
But there was an added incentive of anonymity that the masquerade afforded him. He could attend and not be Rhys Ashcroft, Earl of Falmouth. With a mask on, he could lavish the attention of the women… a woman… freely and without hindrance and that was his biggest incentive of all.
He wanted to go. He wanted to know what it would feel like to flirt with Miss Carmichael, to talk and touch her without inhibition, without fear, without hindrance. The thought was too enticing. She wouldn’t know he’d come. In fact, she’d probably expect him not to come. Having never seen his face, she wouldn’t know it was him that approached her, that flirted with her and enticed her into shaded alcoves or private terraces…
His voice he would have to alter but that shouldn’t serve as a problem. Having a faint Irish brogue, he’d just adjust it faintly so that he sounded primarily English.
So he went. Dressed as a highwayman, he attended the masquerade against his better judgement. It was dangerous. He’d risk exposure- someone would probably recognise him despite the mask that covered most of his face- and then what? He didn’t want to face the questions or the speculation. He’d come to fancy his existence as a recluse and to value his privacy. If word got out that he was making a re-emergence… Rhys shuddered. He couldn’t think about it. He had to keep his mind on why he came to the ball in the first place- Danielle. It was her he wanted to see, to dance with, to coax into the garden.
But Society had other ideas.
As soon as he entered the ballroom, he was accosted by people- particularly those of the female variety. Rhys had forgotten just how persistent the opposite sex could be. Thankfully, the silly chits didn’t recognise him, nor did some of the older matrons who were around when he did the circuits five years prior.
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