Regency Masquerades: A Limited Edition Boxed Set of Six Traditional Regency Romance Novels of Secrets and Disguises

by Brenda Hiatt

  Frederica obeyed, suddenly recalling that the next dance, the one heralding supper, was promised to Lord Seabrooke. Perhaps she should have asked for champagne, she thought belatedly. It might have given her courage.

  Even as she chided herself for such faintheartedness, Lord Seabrooke materialized to bow over her hand. To her dismay, the orchestra struck up a waltz. The earl clasped her lightly, almost impersonally, and swept her into the dance.

  Involuntarily, Frederica glanced up at him, recalling the last time she had been in his arms. It had been so different then! Then, there had been fire between them; now there was only strained politeness. Surely there must be some way she could get through the shield he had raised against her?

  “My brother tells me you fought on the Peninsula, my lord,” she said coquettishly, fluttering her lashes in the manner she had seen more than one of his other partners doing. She kept her voice light and breathless, quite unlike her normal tone. “How very brave of you, to be sure!” As she had noticed before, his dancing was superb, not at all affected by his limp.

  “Merely my patriotic duty, Miss Chesterton,” he said coolly, looking over her head after only the briefest glance at her face.

  She tried another sally. “I vow, I would have been frightened to death, being shot at by the French!” Again she fluttered her lashes, but to no avail. This time he did not even look at her, only acknowledging her comment with a tight, impersonal smile.

  It appeared that Lord Seabrooke was impervious to flattery and flirtation. After a moment’s thought, Frederica realized that, handsome as he was, he had probably been subjected to so much of it that it no longer affected him. Which was probably just as well, as that sort of thing was not in her style anyway. Perhaps a different tactic would be more effective.

  “What thought you of Wellington’s campaign, my lord?” she asked a moment later. Between Thomas’s passion for the recent battles and Miss Milliken’s influence, she was certain she could hold her own in a conversation about warfare. However, she was not to be given the chance.

  “It worked,” the earl said briefly, refusing to elaborate.

  Frederica resisted an urge to shake the man. How on earth could she hope to captivate him—or even to learn anything of his state of mind—if he would not talk to her? She stole another glance at him and was distressed by the unhappiness she detected in his face. Could she be the cause of it? The idea unsettled her enough that she attempted no more conversation before he led her in to supper.

  For his part, Gavin was trying desperately to dispel the fantasy that it was Cherry he held in his arms instead of Miss Chesterton. Her feeble attempts at flirtation, while revealing that she was not quite so shy as he had feared, only served to confirm that she was in no way like the girl he missed so much. Only her eyes reminded him of Cherry. He wondered if green eyes would always torment him so—and whether he could endure being reminded of Cherry every time he looked in Miss Chesterton’s face. Surely, there must be an honorable way out of this farce of a betrothal!

  Perhaps if he were to speak to her brother? The betrothal had been contracted in lieu of payment of that wretched wager. Suppose he agreed to release Sir Thomas from his debt and to repay the marriage settlement? It might be worth a try.

  Supper was a lively meal, but only because Gavin and Miss Chesterton were joined by Lord Garvey and his wife, and the Duke and Duchess of Ravenham, whom Gavin knew only slightly. The latter were an engaging pair, he found, and rather unconventional, in spite of the Duke’s reputation as a high stickler. It appeared that marriage had mellowed him somewhat.

  “And you actually helped to whelp the puppies yourself?” Miss Chesterton was asking the Duchess in disbelief. “Were you successful?”

  “Oh, yes, I had done it countless times before, with my father. Once that first big pup—who was breach, to compound things—was out of the way, the others came along right enough. Odd as it sounds, that was rather a special time for Dexter and myself,” responded the Duchess gaily.

  While the conversation flowed around him, Gavin found himself studying his fiancée. There was certainly no denying that Miss Chesterton was a beauty. Her bright curls, flawless complexion and those lovely eyes, so like Cherry’s, were a bewitching combination. He felt a stirring of response and berated himself for his disloyalty. How could he be drawn to this girl when the one he loved was lost, perhaps even in danger somewhere?

  Ruthlessly, he suppressed the attraction he felt. He knew well enough that beauty alone could never hold his interest over the lifetime a marriage entailed. Had not all his mistresses been beautiful? They, too, had kindled his desire—but never his love. Other men might be willing to risk their future happiness for a pretty face, but not he.

  Other men? Of course! Now that he saw what a beauty Miss Chesterton was, why should he feel guilty at the thought of dissolving their betrothal? There must be dozens of men, many far wealthier than he, who would be more than willing to take his place.

  In order to confirm that hypothesis, Gavin spent the remainder of the evening watching Miss Chesterton and her admirers closely. And yes, there were many, many admirers. Among them was Lord Auldin, a Marquess who was reputed to be one of the wealthiest men in England. He appeared completely besotted by her, staring down into her eyes as they danced and holding her far closer than even the waltz demanded.

  The set after that she was partnered by Mr. Tremont, not so wealthy as Auldin, but still far richer than Gavin himself. He also appeared thoroughly smitten by her charms.

  No, she was not likely to suffer from a termination of their betrothal, particularly if he could convince her to cry off, thus sparing her any embarrassment. Sternly ignoring an errant thought that perhaps being married to her would not be such a bad thing after all, Gavin decided that he would call on Sir Thomas tomorrow to discuss it.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Her scheme had been a dismal failure, Frederica had to admit, as she reviewed the events of the ball upon awakening late the next morning. Lord Seabrooke had been perfectly polite, but she had detected far more admiration in Lord Auldin—in half of the other gentlemen there, in fact—than in her fiancé. And she was no closer than she had been at the outset to discovering what his feelings toward Miss Cherrystone had been.

  On descending a short time later, she discovered that no fewer than eight bouquets had been delivered for her already that morning. Eagerly, she examined the cards, but not one was from Lord Seabrooke. She knew she should be gratified that she had “taken” so well, but that one omission overshadowed all the fragrant evidence of devotion from her other admirers.

  Dejectedly, Frederica made her way into the breakfast-room, where she found Miss Milliken in oppressively high spirits, eating sausages and eggs.

  “Good morning, Frederica! Is it not a lovely day? What a pity that Town hours require us to sleep through half the morning.” With a cheery smile, and looking somehow far younger than she had the day before, she speared another bite of sausage.

  “You must have enjoyed yourself far more than I did last night, Milly.” Frederica attempted to keep the gloominess she felt out of her voice, having no wish to dampen her friend’s good humor.

  “Indeed, I had a far better time than I expected. Who would have thought that I should see Mr. Westlake there? I had nearly forgotten the marvelous weeks we spent in each other’s company during my brief Season, but he quickly brought it all back to me.” She sighed happily, causing Frederica to regard her in amazement. “He is to take me driving shortly and specifically suggested that you come along—as my chaperone. Is he not absurd? As if a woman of my years needed one.”

  Observing Milly’s giddy mood, Frederica was not so sure she did not. “I shall be delighted to come along, Milly,” she said, attempting to summon a teasing manner. “I wish to learn more of this Mr. Westlake, to discover whether he is worthy of you.”

  Miss Milliken actually tittered at this, causing Frederica to again stare at her in wonder. Was this
her staid governess? She would not have thought such a transformation possible. Spending an hour or two in her company might be the very thing for her own depressed spirits.

  Alas, being with two undeclared lovers who patently delighted in each other’s presence was far from uplifting, Frederica found. On the contrary, it only served to heighten her awareness of what was lacking from her own life. To distract herself from such thoughts, she set about observing Mr. Westlake, just as she had jokingly told Milly she would.

  Mr. Westlake was every inch the gentleman, shown by the fact that, though unfailingly attentive to Miss Milliken, he remembered to include Frederica in their conversation. He owned a very comfortable estate in the north, she learned, and had apparently never married, though he was now past forty.

  “After Charlotte disappeared, no other could take her place,” he said with such a fond look at her friend that Frederica felt distinctly de trop. “My parents wished me to marry, of course, but as my younger brother had already done so, the requisite heir was virtually assured. Having known true love, how could I settle for less?”

  Miss Milliken snorted, though the smile never left her face. “What devotion you now profess, Charles! If you were so in love, why did you not come after me?”

  “I tried. Honestly, I did!” He half turned, catching Frederica’s eye with a rueful smile. “Though perhaps not as hard as I should have. When a fortnight of enquiries did not produce her direction, I confess I gave it up. I was much young then, remember. It was not until later that I fully realized what I had lost. I’ll not allow you to give me the slip again, my dear, I promise you.” Now he spoke solely to Miss Milliken. “I want your father’s direction, as well as that of every other person connected with you, before you leave Town this time.”

  Recalling his manners, he turned back to Frederica. “Perhaps you can help me in that, Miss Chesterton.”

  Frederica absently agreed, her thoughts on his earlier words. Had Lord Seabrooke attempted to follow Miss Cherrystone? Would he also have given up by now? Looking at Miss Milliken and Mr. Westlake in their present happiness, she was struck by the wasted years behind them—twenty years of happiness they might have enjoyed had Mr. Westlake been successful in finding Milly when first she left London. Would she herself one day look back in similar regret? Would the earl?

  She determined that it must not be. Rather than face such a bleak future, she would risk his anger and her own embarrassment by revealing the charade she had employed. If nothing else, he might at least allow her to visit Christabel again. She missed the child far more than she had expected to.

  Less than half an hour after Frederica and Miss Milliken left with Mr. Westlake, Lord Seabrooke came to call at Audley Square.

  “Is Sir Thomas in?” he enquired of the footman who answered the door. On being answered in the affirmative, he handed the man his card and said firmly, “Be so kind as to tell him that I wish to speak to him at his earliest convenience.”

  Gavin was shown into the parlor. While waiting for Sir Thomas to appear, he carefully thought over what he intended to say. He hoped to conclude this interview quickly so that he might have the afternoon in which to further investigate Cherry’s whereabouts. His one clue was that cottage where a girl with a peacock had supposedly been taken up. Foolishly, he had not thought to ask Old Joe what her destination had been. If it indeed proved to be Seabrooke House, he would know for certain that it must have been Cherry, and he would never rest till he discovered where she had gone. And if it had not...

  He refused to think further on that possibility, which could lead only to despair.

  “Good morning, Seabrooke,” said Sir Thomas, entering the parlour. “I am told Frederica has just gone out, but she should be back within an hour or so. She always was an early riser.”

  “No matter,” said the earl. “It was you with whom I wished to speak.” Gavin waited until Sir Thomas had made himself comfortable before launching into his prepared speech.

  “As you know, my betrothal to your sister occurred as a result of a gaming debt on your part. At the time, I was badly in need of funds and this seemed my best chance of obtaining them. However, that does not excuse what I did. I essentially forced you to engage your sister to me, without making the slightest effort to discover her feelings on the matter.”

  “Forced?” echoed Thomas. “No, I say, that’s coming it a bit strong—” He stopped as Lord Seabrooke held up his hand.

  “Please, hear me out. Whatever your thoughts were at the time, the fact remains that neither one of us consulted Miss Chesterton’s wishes. Having met her, I realize now that she could no doubt have her choice of any number of highly placed, wealthy gentlemen for a husband. It seems most unfair to hold her to this betrothal, which was made without her consent.”

  Sir Thomas appeared nonplused, but not, as Gavin had feared, angry or distressed. “But… but my wager?” he stammered.

  “I am willing to forgive the debt entirely, and return what you settled on your sister. I have recently come into funds that will enable me to live quite comfortably without it, and I cannot rest easy knowing what we have done.” He watched Sir Thomas keenly, trying to decipher the conflicting emotions on the young man’s face.

  “Is your sister truly set on the match?” he asked in sudden concern. “If so, I cannot, of course, renege.”

  “No, no, I don’t think so. In fact, she was dead set against it when I first broke the news—” said Thomas candidly “—though she seems to have come round now. Still, twelve thousand pounds…”

  “A small price to pay to avert years of possible unhappiness, both for your sister and myself. And I have had use of the money for more than a month, do not forget. I’ll gladly consider it a loan.” He managed to summon a smile.

  “What about the announcement? It’s been in the papers this week and more.”

  “She may cry off, of course, and the public will be duly notified. It seems only fair that I be the jilted party, as she was blameless in all this.”

  Thomas exhaled noisily. “Well! Won’t Freddie be flummoxed when I tell her? And after all her scheming—” He broke off, looking almost guilty, but brightened at once. “Very well, then, Seabrooke, it shall be as you say. I must admit, I am relieved. I would never have forgiven myself if Frederica had been truly unhappy in marriage. This way, it will be her own choice.”

  “Quite,” said Gavin shortly, eager to be gone. He had little doubt that Miss Chesterton would avail herself of the opportunity he had given her, especially now that he knew what her feelings had been at first. She had not seemed comfortable in his company last night and now he could understand why. Looking about him, he noticed for the first time the veritable garden of bouquets that had been delivered and thought, with a pang that surprised him, that she would have no trouble finding someone to replace him.

  “I’ll be off, then. Be so kind as to send me word of when the retraction will appear in the papers.” He rose, nodded briefly and departed, trying to convince himself that he had done the only honorable thing.

  “Won’t you come in, Mr. Westlake?” asked Frederica when the carriage pulled up to the house in Audley Square. She spoke automatically, her thoughts still busily engaged with how she might best arrange to speak privately with Lord Seabrooke.

  Mr. Westlake agreed at once, obviously loath to part from Miss Milliken just yet. The three of them repaired to the parlor, where Mr. Westlake politely exclaimed over the flower arrangements.

  “Lovely. Quite lovely. And your success is very much to Charlotte’s credit, if I may say so.” He turned another lingering look on Miss Milliken.

  On impulse, Frederica said, “Would you do us the honor of dining with us this evening, Mr. Westlake? Our cook is excellent, as Milly can assure you.”

  When he allowed that he would very much like to join them, she said, “I shall just nip downstairs to tell Cook.” As quickly as their courtship seemed to be progressing, Frederica felt that a moment alone might be all th
at was needed to bring it to a satisfactory conclusion. Leaving the parlor door slightly ajar to preserve the proprieties, she walked unhurriedly down to the kitchens.

  An extra place at dinner presented no problems, so she was soon done with her consultation with the cook. She was considering what other duty she might perform to give Milly and Mr. Westlake more time to themselves when Thomas came out of the breakfast-room, having just finished his own belated meal.

  “Freddie! The very person I wanted to see. You will never believe what occurred while you were out!”

  Mindful of the occupants of the parlor, Frederica steered her brother back into the breakfast-room. “What is it, Thomas?” she asked. “You look inordinately pleased with yourself. Have you placed a bet on a winning horse?”

  “Even better,” he said, beaming. “Seabrooke has cancelled my debt to him!”

  “Cancelled it?” For a moment, Frederica’s mind refused to function. “What do you mean, Thomas? I thought my betrothal to him had discharged it. Did you not say that twelve thousand pounds of my inheritance had gone to pay it?”

  Thomas regarded her patiently. “That’s just it. He has offered to repay the amount in full. You no longer have to marry him, Freddie!”

  Frederica felt as though her world were crumbling around her. “He… he has broken off our betrothal?”

  “Well, not precisely. He left that for you to do, since he could not cry off in honor. But you are now perfectly free to do so! Is it not a superb jest? When I think of the lengths you went to to free yourself from him, and now he releases us from the obligation as easily as that!” He snapped his fingers. “I vow, I laughed for ten minutes together after he left.”

  Frederica knew her face must have gone rather white, for Thomas abruptly sobered somewhat. “Are you not relieved?” he asked uncertainly. “Now you can accept whoever you wish. I thought you would be as diverted by this news as I was.”