Unmasking a Duke

by Ellie St. Clair

  “Is that so?” The Duke sounded amused and Arabella wondered whether or not she had identified entirely the wrong man. Was that what made him sound as though he were laughing at her?

  “You are the Duke of Elenford, are you not?” she asked, bluntly. Time was not on her side, and she would not waste her time on a man who was not her quarry. Given her father’s demands, she simply did not have time for propriety.

  He chuckled again. “Let us say that, for this evening, I am. I am the Duke of Elenford.”

  Still quite unsure as to what the man meant, Arabella frowned.

  "I can see your dance card is quite empty," the Duke said, reaching for the card dangling from her wrist. "How could such an enchanting creature such as yourself be without suitors?"

  “Perhaps I have been saving my card for you, Your Grace,” Arabella replied at once, glad that her mask covered her heated cheeks. “So that you may have the first pick.”

  He held her gaze for a moment, his dark eyes flashing from behind his mask. “Very good, my dear,” he murmured, catching her wrist and picking up the dance card. “What a shame this does not bear your name, for I am still struggling to work out who you are, on account of the feathers!”

  Arabella blushed to the roots of her hair, aware that he'd just commented on her feather-laden mask, which she herself found quite embarrassing.

  "Perhaps I shall just have to spend some more time in your company so that I might be able to identify you," he murmured, writing his name into two of her blank spaces, one of which included a waltz. "You intrigue me greatly."

  “Thank you, Your Grace,” Arabella stammered, stepping back slightly the moment he touched her hand. “I shall look forward to our dance.”

  “Ah!”

  Spinning on her heel, Arabella widened her eyes as she saw her father approaching, evidently eager to ensure his daughter was doing exactly as he’d asked.

  “Your Grace,” he continued, bowing quickly. “I see you have found yourself in the company of my daughter.”

  “Indeed,” the Duke murmured, glancing from Arabella to the man in front of him and back again.

  “Oh, forgive me. Lord Marley, at your service, your grace. Alas, these confounded masks make things more than difficult for those of us who wish to speak openly with one another!”

  “I do believe that is the point,” the Duke replied, dryly. For a moment, Arabella thought he might remove his name from her dance card, now that he was aware of who she was but, to her relief, he simply bowed and smiled. “And now you must excuse me. Miss Marley, I look forward to our first dance together.”

  Arabella let out a long breath, her smile a little wavering. “Thank you, Your Grace,” she mumbled, practically stumbling over her curtsy as the Duke took his leave.

  “Very good, my girl, very good,” her father whispered in delight, his eyes gleaming. “You have done very well indeed.”

  “I will not be doing anything improper, father,” she warned, wrenching her arm from his grip.

  He glared at her, the delight suddenly gone from his eyes. “Then how do you intend – ”

  “Father,” Arabella whispered loudly, cutting him off. “I will work towards what you have asked in my own way, please do not push me into ruination simply over the Marley necklace!” For a moment, she thought her father was going to tell she absolutely had no other choice but, instead, he rolled his eyes, turned on his heel and left her alone.

  Sagging with relief, Arabella found a quiet corner of the room and leaned heavily against it. She was quite sure that, unless she found the Marley necklace soon, her father would have no hesitation in encouraging her – even forcing her – to do whatever she needed to, in order to restore it to him, which could quite easily mean a ruined reputation. “Not that I have that many suitors,” she murmured, picking up her dance card and looking at it. At least now the Duke’s name was written there, which was better than it being completely blank. Sighing heavily to herself, Arabella wished to goodness she had not been given such an odious father. Perhaps then she might be sailing around the ballroom, with a great many suitors vying for her hand.

  “To be loved,” she whispered, feeling completely miserable. “Can I even dream of such a thing?”

  4

  Andrew was not quite sure what had made him come, nor what had made him pretend to be his brother. Perhaps it had been the thought of experiencing life as his brother did. Or mayhap it had been his frustrating first week at his brother's residence, receiving another threatening note with no clues to its sender, and having to pay a few gentlemen some hearty sums in an attempt to make up the vast amounts William had taken from them at cards. Unfortunately for Andrew, he was quickly learning that his brother was entirely reckless when it came to throwing his money around, and he apparently had no scruples about taking other men's wealth from them either.

  He needed some kind of entertainment to take his mind from his hard work. When he had opened the invitation meant for his brother, he had put it to one side, before picking it up again. It had been a masquerade after all, which meant that no one needed to know his true identity, even if he did look mightily similar to his brother. He would simply slip away before the unmasking.

  Smiling to himself, Andrew took a glass from the footman's tray, feeling quite pleased with himself. Normally, he kept himself very little in society, attending the occasional card party and the like, while William reveled in all that society had to offer. Of course, Andrew did not have quite as many mamas searching him out as a match for their daughter, although there had been a few. Most of the ladies were pushing their daughters forward towards the Duke, although Andrew recognized that he was the 'spare' and therefore might attain the dukedom one day, should his brother pass away. The thought had always made him shudder, which is most likely why he had never once been interested in any of the fawning ladies who had shown such interest in him.

  All that had changed the moment his eyes had alighted on Miss Marley. Her eyes had been such a vivid green that he'd struggled to not become lost in them, and he longed to run his fingers through the red-gold ringlets that framed her face. Her gentle smile had his heart beating all the faster. He had been utterly entranced and thoroughly delighted that he had chosen to come. Now, he was waiting with eager expectation for their first dance together, which could not come soon enough. How much he was looking forward to having her in his embrace! It was a pity he was intending to leave before the unmasking, for he should very much like to see her face from under that mass of feathers, although he was quite sure she was more than beautiful.

  “Perhaps I shall find a quiet corner of the balcony where I can watch,” he mused, stepping to one side and spying Miss Marley leaning against the opposite wall. His heart tugged for her as he saw the miserable look on her face as she lifted her dance card. Surely she could not be a wallflower? Perhaps she had not much yet been in society, for surely no gentleman would be able to ignore such a delicate beauty?

  He frowned as he saw her sigh heavily, her head drooping towards the floor. The lady clearly had something on her mind, whatever it was. Perhaps he could lift her spirits by ensuring she did not miss out on a single dance, to show her that she was a lady very much in demand. It would be an opportunity to use the Duke’s influence for good!

  Smiling to himself, he walked across the floor towards her, seeing her glance up in surprise, only to push herself away from the wall and curtsy slightly as he greeted her.

  “You seemed quite alone, Miss Marley,” he began holding out his arm to her. “Perhaps a turn around the room?”

  She stared at him for a moment, before a slight smile lifted the corners of her lips. “I thank you, Your Grace. I have not attended many occasions such as this before now, I must confess.”

  “Ah,” he murmured, as her hand settled on his arm. “That explains why you have been standing here all alone.” His eyes twinkled as he looked down at her, catching the turn of her head away from him. “Never fear, Miss Marley,”
he continued, smiling as he nodded to a few people across the room. “I am sure that your dance card will be filled to completion before our turn around the room is completed. And I shall be quite jealous that I can only have but two dances with you.”

  “You are too kind, Your Grace,” she murmured, softly.

  He laughed, greeting another gentleman who apparently recognized him as the Duke. He stopped for a very brief moment to talk to one of the older ladies who wished to present their own daughter to him, and as he predicted, Miss Marley was swarmed by gentlemen. Turning back to face her, he smiled to himself at the surprise and delight on her face, as her dance card was filled within a matter of minutes. If this is the influence my brother has, then it is little wonder that he has become something of a self-centered creature, he thought to himself wryly.

  Hearing the first strains of his dance start up, Andrew once more pressed himself to Miss Marley’s side. “You must excuse me, gentlemen,” he said, loudly. “I believe this is my dance. I will return this delightful creature to you soon enough.” With a broad smile, he took Miss Marley’s hand, placed it into the crook of his arm and led her onto the dance floor.

  For some moments, Andrew found himself quite unable to think of anything to say. Miss Marley was a wonderful dancer, but it was the happiness in her eyes that captured his attention. It was as though she had never truly experienced such a basic joy of dancing in a ballroom before, although she clearly had been out for some time. Her soft curves beneath his hands gave rise to such a feeling of desire that he had never before experienced, surprising him entirely.

  “How does your father know the Duke – I mean, how does he know me?” he corrected, tension rippling through his frame. What a ridiculous question, he berated himself. What kind of idiot asks that question about his own acquaintances?

  “Oh,” she replied, with just a touch of confusion over his question. “I believe he plays cards with you on occasion.”

  "Ah," he replied, his face clearing. "I must ask your forgiveness for my forgetfulness, Miss Marley. I play a lot of cards with a great many gentlemen, as I am sure you are aware. Pray forgive my seemingly strange question."

  Her smile was immediate, lighting up her eyes. “But of course,” she murmured, as he swung her around the floor. “I quite understand.”

  Unfortunately for Andrew, their dance soon came to an end and then she was caught up with gentleman after gentleman, who took her onto the dance floor. Even after such a short acquaintance, Andrew found himself more than a little intrigued by the lady, anticipating the moments her brilliant eyes would catch his now and again. Andrew wondered to himself whether or not his brother had shown affection towards Miss Marley in the past, leading to her seeking him out this evening. His stomach rolled at the thought. He would not go near a woman William had already sullied.

  Catching her gaze once more, Andrew shook his head to himself. He did not think his brother had done such a thing, given the innocence in her eyes. On top of that, she had not coyly touched his shoulder or even given him so much as a flirtatious look. Surely a woman who had previously had an assignation with the Duke would be a little less shy than Miss Marley! Satisfied, Andrew heard the waltz begin to pick up and moved towards her again, delighted to have her in his arms once more.

  5

  “I would like to call upon you, if I may.”

  Arabella felt her heart stop in her chest for a moment before it slammed back into a furious rhythm. "You wish to call upon me, Your Grace?" Warning rang in her ears, for she had heard more than a few tales about the Duke's behavior towards the ladies of the ton.

  "Yes, if you will permit it," he replied, with a smile. "You need not look so fearful, my dear. I shall be on my best behavior, I assure you."

  "Of course," she replied at once, hoping she had not offended him. "I would be honored, Your Grace."

  “Wonderful,” he murmured, taking her hand and bowing as the music came to an end. He gently kissed her gloved hand, before looking deeply into her eyes. “Until tomorrow then, Miss Marley. I look forward to it.”

  “Thank you,” she whispered, watching him take his leave as she stood, frozen in place, in the middle of the ballroom.

  “It is almost time for the unmasking,” came the voice of their host. “Ladies and gentleman, prepare to reveal your identity!”

  Hurriedly making her way to the corner of the room, Arabella leaned against the wall once more, her fingers tugging at the knot of the mask's ribbons. Finally managing to remove the hideous mess entirely, she let the mask drop from her face, catching it in her hands. All around her, she heard the cries of delight and laughter coming from the other guests, and, as she looked around, her eyes caught sight of the Duke, standing on the balcony with his mask still on his face.

  Arabella wondered why he had removed himself from the crowd of guests, shivering slightly as he held her gaze. With great deliberation, he slowly removed his mask, finally revealing his face to her.

  He was not as she had expected. In truth, she had thought she would see an arrogant looking man, with a haughty expression or even derision as he studied her. In fact, she found a friendly face, with a shock of dark hair falling over his forehead. His eyes were kind and there was a slight smile on his face, giving him an almost shy expression. Nothing like she had expected at all.

  Arabella returned his smile, and, as he lifted his hand in farewell and disappeared from view, she found herself feeling strangely bereft. Suddenly, she found that she was eagerly anticipating his visit tomorrow.

  “Well?”

  Startled by her father’s harsh voice in her ear, Arabella jumped. “Yes, Papa,” she murmured. “All is in hand. He is to call upon me tomorrow.”

  To say that the look on her father’s face was incredulous would have been something of an understatement, and Arabella felt her face grow hot with embarrassment.

  "Well, well," her father murmured. "It appears you are not a lost cause, after all, Arabella. I shall look forward to meeting the Duke again tomorrow."

  * * *

  The following afternoon, Arabella was dressed in a light blue gown, with her hair perfectly arranged. Whilst she gave the impression of being entirely at ease, inwardly she was filled with anxiety. Giving herself one last, long look in the mirror, she took a deep breath and walked from the room.

  “Will you hurry up?” her father exclaimed, storming towards her. “The Duke might be here at any moment!”

  “And I will be ready, papa,” she promised, frustrated with his tone. “I am well aware of how important this is to you.”

  She had only just sat down when there came a knock at the door and the butler introduced “His Grace, the Duke of Elenford.” Arabella's heart slammed into her chest again and again as she rose, ready to curtsy. Why had she such a reaction to him, after only such a short acquaintance? Was it because he had treated her so delightfully the night before? Arabella knew that her dance card certainly would not have been so quickly filled, had he not taken her for a turn around the floor. His evident interest in her had caused other gentlemen to practically run to her side to ensure they too were introduced to her by the Duke, so that they might have their name on her dance card. It had been a wonderful, if not slightly tiring evening, but the Duke certainly had shown himself to be a considerate and kind gentleman, which went completely at odds with what her father – and society at large – considered him to be.

  “Your Grace,” she murmured, curtsying. “How wonderful to see you again.”

  He bowed, with a light smile on his handsome face. “It is entirely my pleasure, Miss Marley.” He bowed to her father also, who returned it, although Arabella was surprised to see a slightly confused expression on his face. She did not have time to wonder what it was that had upset her father, for the Duke was already addressing her once again.

  “My curricle is outside, Miss Marley. I had hoped we might take a drive, given that it is such a beautiful day.” He smiled at her, his dark eyes lighting with
hopefulness, and Arabella felt her face warm.

  “Papa?” she whispered, glancing at him. He nodded, as she had fully expected him to do, and she smiled at the Duke in return. “Your Grace, I would be delighted. I must just fetch my bonnet.”

  “Perhaps she will meet you at the front door, Your Grace,” her father interrupted, unsmiling.

  Wondering what on earth had come over her father, Arabella winced slightly at the confused expression on the Duke’s face, before he nodded and walked from the room, with a murmured, “Of course.”

  "Papa?" she asked, turning to him. "Whatever is the matter? I thought you wished me to fetch the Marley necklace from the Duke, and how else am I do to it without pursuing our acquaintance?"

  Her father frowned, his mouth in a thin line. "It certainly looks like the Duke," he mumbled, appearing even more confused. "I just thought…. What I mean is, the last thing I want to do is waste you on someone who is not! After all my scheming, I… never mind. I was mistaken."

  “What did you think, Papa?” Arabella asked, surprised at her father’s sudden concern.

  He shook his head. “I had imbibed quite a lot of liquor during our card game, so I must have mistaken his appearance somewhat. I had thought him a little taller, and that his hair was not so dark.” He shrugged, turning to Arabella with a sudden glare. “Whatever is keeping you, girl? Go at once, fetch your bonnet!”

  Sighing heavily, Arabella strode from the room and went to fetch her bonnet. Whatever her father had been concerned over was clearly no longer a concern. Realizing that her father had not truly been concerned over her, she blinked back a sudden rush of tears. Instead, he had simply been worried that the Duke was not as he remembered him, thinking that he would ‘waste’ his scheming on an imposter. Of all the ridiculous notions!

  Finding her bonnet, Arabella tied the ribbons securely, before pinching her cheeks to give them a little color. The last thing she wanted was to appear before the Duke with a somewhat sad expression or to give him any hint about what she was truly doing.