Midnight Masquerade

by Shirlee Busbee

  Thoughtfully, Dominic regarded her, wondering how much of what she was saying was the truth and how much sheer bravado. Did she really want another lover? Or was all this outrage real and her professed intention to seek a lover merely a mask to disguise what she was truly feeling? Jealousy, perhaps?

  Dominic wanted desperately to believe that it was pure jealousy that was prompting Melissa's actions, but he could not be sure—certainly during the time that he had known her, she had given him few clues to her inner emotions. So. Was she bluffing, hoping to provoke some sort of revealing action on his part? Or did she mean every word she said?

  There was, he decided, only one way to find out. His voice indifferent, he asked, "Since you seem to have expended a great deal of thought on the subject, has your fancy alighted on any particular man?"

  His careless attitude was the final goad, and before she even realized what she was doing, she announced rashly, "Yes! Julius Latimer!"

  Part III

  Of Intrigue and Desire

  Pains of love be sweeter far

  Than all other pleasures are.

  Tyrannic Love

  —John Dryden

  Chapter 18

  Dominic paled at the mention of Latimer's name, and with a mixture of elation and fear she had watched, mesmerized, as he had marched up to her. Melissa had had no idea of the effect her words would have on him and she was unprepared for his reaction.

  Dominic's handsome features cold and set, and his voice icy, he snarled, "If I ever find you in Latimer's arms, I'll kill him and make you regret for the rest of your life that you ever even knew his name!" Without another word he stalked from the room.

  It wasn't the reaction that Melissa yearned for, but she tried to console herself by clinging to the thought that at least he had not laughed at her, nor had he been indifferent. It was small comfort, though, and she dreaded their next meeting, wondering how he would treat her—coldly, indifferently, or pretending the incident had never happened?

  Dominic chose the latter path, and Melissa could not decide whether she was disappointed or grateful. Joining her the next morning in the small breakfast room, he greeted her cordially and, to her astonishment, spent part of the day at her side. No mention was made of the ugly scene of the previous night, and while she waited nervously for him to make some comment or raise the subject again, he did not. Instead, he acted like any new husband, showing his bride over the premises, calling her attention to changes that could be made and soliciting her opinion on renovations he planned.

  Melissa followed his lead, occasionally even allowing herself to forget for several minutes at a time the obstacles that lay between them. At first she was optimistic about the state of affairs—if he was spending the majority of his waking hours with her, he couldn't very well be seeing the odious Deborah, could he? And since she now had his attention, perhaps she could begin to smooth over their disastrous beginning and create some sort of harmony between them.

  It took almost a week before she realized that she had nothing to be optimistic about. Dominic might not, at present, be continuing his meetings with Deborah, but he certainly did not seem at all inclined to pursue his wife either. He was so polite that Melissa began to feel like a visiting guest, rather than the lady of the house.

  He had withdrawn from her; no longer were there any teasing smiles, and the expression in those eloquent gray eyes remained the same—coolly polite, no hint of the sensual glitter that could make her heart beat fast, no indication of a passion barely leashed. He was careful in the way that he touched her, his hand lingering not one second longer than necessary on her arm as he escorted her about the grounds, and Melissa tried to convince herself that this was exactly what she wanted. Hadn't she told him not to touch her? But since he was now doing precisely as she had requested, why was it making her so unhappy?

  Not only did he appear to want little physical contact with her, he also, she observed miserably, swiftly turned the conversation away from anything remotely personal, and so her few attempts to discuss their difficulties were brushed aside.

  By the time another week had passed, she was totally dejected, certain that she was condemned to spend the rest of her life tied to the austere creature Dominic had become. She was so dejected, in fact, that she managed to make excuses for his affair with Lady Deborah, berating herself for having acted so hastily and wrongly on their wedding night. Wistfully, her eyes would follow his broad-shouldered form about, and she yearned for the chance to start anew. How differently I would act, she thought forlornly. I would control my wretched tongue. And my lamentable temper. I would try to be more understanding. Less inclined to leap to conclusions...

  The situation was not any easier for Dominic, particularly since he would have liked nothing better than to encourage Melissa's advances. But the murderous rage which had exploded through his body at the mere thought of Latimer even touching her had shocked him, making him realize that what he felt for Melissa was no passing fancy. He had never been possessive of a woman in his life, and to discover that she aroused such primitive, uncontrollable emotions within him had been a confounding experience.

  After leaving Melissa in the sitting room that evening, he had spent another sleepless night, this one, at least, in his own bed, where he had lain staring blindly at the canopy overhead, his thoughts chaotic and rambling. He had made all manner of excuses to explain away his behavior, but even though he was able to rationalize things to his satisfaction, he was left with the uneasy sensation that he was only fooling himself. Melissa had enraged him and befuddled him from the moment he had first seen her, and he finally decided, with great distaste, that her suggestion on their wedding night that they become more acquainted with each other before plunging into physical intimacy had not been the ridiculous notion it had seemed at the time. Besides, he conceded grimly, she had made it quite clear she didn't want him in her bed. For the present he was willing to respect her conditions, infuriating though they were.

  A bit of breathing room, he admitted reluctantly, is what we need. Some time to learn more about each other... time to discover if she did marry me for my money... time to discover if she does have some feeling for me....

  If he could maintain a polite air, perhaps he would be able to discover a way to make their marriage, if not happy, at least bearable. But how, he wondered, was he going to keep his hands to himself when every nerve in his body tingled with desire whenever she was near him? He snorted. He was deluding himself. It wasn't just her nearness—she didn't even have to be in the same room with him for him to react to just the thought of making love to her. But conceding that a bout of chastity might do them both some good, he resigned himself to the part of pleasant host.

  It was not a role he relished playing, but Dominic had always been a man in full control of his emotions, and he needed, just now, to prove to himself that he was perfectly capable of behaving with his usual, well-known sangfroid—no matter how much he might desire Melissa, nor how ridiculous the situation. She's my wife, for God's sake! he thought irritably, and I should be able to make love to her if I want! But to his annoyance, an unwelcome voice whispered in his brain: But she doesn't want you....

  The days that had followed were a curious blend of delight and agony for Dominic, Melissa's tremulous attempts to breach the distance he had deliberately created between them putting a strain on all his good intentions. In the beginning it had not been difficult; he had been too angry and, yes, hurt about her threat to take Latimer for a lover to either encourage or discourage her overtures of peace. But as the days passed, he found it harder and harder to maintain his aloof posture.

  While he played his role of host, they had spent many hours exploring the property adjoining the house, and time had been idled away discussing the plans for the outbuildings that would be built to accommodate whatever animals would be housed here instead of at Thousand Oaks. Gradually, though, Dominic's control slipped, and he was conscious of a thawing on his part; all
too soon, as they talked about additions to the cottage one afternoon, he caught himself thinking Melissa utterly enchanting when she blushed at his matter-of-fact mention of a nursery wing. He felt light-headed for many minutes after, finding the idea of being the father of Melissa's children vastly appealing.

  The long summer evenings might have been the hardest to get through if they hadn't been able to while them away by speculating about the various lines of the different horses Dominic owned and the possible impact Folly's breeding would have upon the resultant offspring. They spent an inordinate amount of time talking about horses, as much because it was a safe subject as the fact that they were both horse-mad. To his pleased surprise, Dominic discovered that Melissa was indeed knowledgeable when it came to prime horseflesh and was not the least hesitant about stating her opinion.

  "How can you dismiss the Godolphin Barb's get so cavalierly?" she had demanded one night as they sat on the gallery, arguing enjoyably about the history of thorougbred horses. "Look at Cade. And what about his son, Matchem? They've all contributed hugely to the breed." Shaking her head, she said decisively, "Your comment that the Darley Arabian has had the most effect has yet to be proved."

  He was impressed by the amount of information she had learned over the years, particularly when he considered that she had never traveled widely, and then just to race meets. Seeing the wistful expression that crossed her face when he had talked about attending the Derby at Epsom in England, he vowed that once this blasted war with England was over, he would take her there to see that greatest of horse races at the first opportunity.

  Although she was passionately interested in horses, she wasn't, he found out to his amusement, obsessed with the fripperies and gowns that commanded the interest of many of his female acquaintances. She thanked him very prettily for the lovely things he had bought for her, and though he had few doubts that she was grateful for them and enjoyed wearing the beautiful garments, seeing the blithe disregard with which she treated her apparel made it quite clear to him that she would have been happy in the dowdy gowns in which he had first seen her. He supposed that he should be thankful that he would not be receiving exorbitant bills for trunk loads of feminine furbelows which would seldom be worn at Thousand Oaks with its limited society, but her reaction left him even more bewildered. She was not behaving like the mercenary little witch he had named her.

  As for housewifely zest, Dominic found out immediately that his bride wasn't the least bit concerned with the running of the household. As long as eatable food appeared at reasonable hours and the house was maintained in a tolerably clean manner, she seemed content. Always having had an impeccably run household, Dominic prided himself on having had the excellent foresight to hire a competent housekeeper and staff. Left to Melissa's tender mercies, he was positive that he would dine frequently on stale bread and moldy cheese in a dining room decorated with cobwebs and dust.

  Watching one warm, inviting morning as Melissa's tapping foot betrayed her impatience to be off while the housekeeper, Mrs. Meeks, went over the daily tasks to be done about the premises, Dominic had to turn away to hide his amusement. Melissa was obviously more interested in trying out the new mare he had purchased for her than in whether the house was properly run. It came as no surprise to him when she smiled sunnily at Mrs. Meeks and said cordially, "Mrs. Meeks, I leave it all in your capable hands. You decide on today's menu. And as for the other things, I'm certain that Mr. Slade and I will be most satisfied with the way you carry out your duties."

  Putting her arm confidingly in Dominic's, she glanced up at him. "Shall we go now? I know that the horses are waiting for us."

  A teasing glint in his gray eyes, Dominic murmured, "Such a house-proud wife I have. Are you positive that you can bear to tear yourself away from the fascinating chores that Mrs. Meeks has outlined?"

  Melissa looked guilty. Doubtfully she asked, "Do you think that I should stay? Perhaps it is wrong of me to make Mrs. Meeks see to everything."

  Dominic laughed. "My dear, that is precisely why I pay her the ridiculously high sum that I do."

  Melissa's expression of guilt increased. "Oh, dear!" she exclaimed. "I hadn't thought of that. I am being most unthrifty, am I not? Would you prefer that I take a more active hand so that you wouldn't need her services?"

  Giving her a thoughtful look, Dominic said gently, "If you were here at the house, then I would be deprived of your very charming company, wouldn't I?"

  Blushing, Melissa nodded shyly, her heart thumping pleasantly within her breast. It was at times like these that she found it difficult to believe him the womanizer she knew him to be, and she wondered wistfully how much longer she could hold his undivided attention. How much longer before he grew bored and began casting a roving eye about, searching for the next woman to enslave?

  If Melissa had trouble reminding herself of Dominic's philandering propensities, he was having an equally difficult time reconciling this captivating creature with the calculating hussy who had so cold-bloodedly trapped him into marriage. It was true that beyond that one night of ecstasy she denied him the rights of a husband, but other than that disagreeable fact, he could find no fault to lay at her door. She was a delightful companion—warm, amusing and unfailingly bewitching. Though he believed that she had married him for money, she displayed no signs of being a greedy harpy; if anything, the many gifts that he had given her seemed to make her uncomfortable. She made no monetary demands upon him; had, at present, given no hint of being either impressed or attracted by his wealth. Surreptitiously, he had stared at Melissa time and again, puzzling over her motives for being in his room that night at the tavern, and because he could think of no reason other than his original assumption that she was determined to snare a rich husband, he came to the unpleasant conclusion that perhaps she was playing a game with him, deliberately trying to disarm him.

  Grimly he admitted that she was succeeding beyond her wildest dreams. He could almost believe that there was some other motivating factor that he did not know of that had caused her to place herself in such a damning position. Almost.

  And so the days drifted by, Melissa hoping that she could hold her husband's fancy and mayhap woo him away from his libertine ways, Dominic thoroughly baffled and beguiled by his tawny-haired bride.

  If they had been able to remain secluded in their own little world at the cottage, the misunderstandings they each harbored about the other would have been explained in a relatively brief time. Melissa had been bracing herself to come out and bluntly ask him about Deborah, and Dominic, driven half mad with longing to hold his wife in his arms again, had for the past few days been on the point of attempting a bit of gentle seduction to see if she was still determined to keep him from her bed. If she showed any signs of relenting, his next step would be to find out, if he could, precisely what her motives had been when she had agreed to marry him. But before either of them could take the first tentative step toward the other, the world in the guise of a servant from Morgan came knocking at their door. After presenting Dominic with a note, the man waited for a reply.

  Morgan had written that Jason would be departing tomorrow for Terre du Coeur, but before he left he wanted very much to talk to Dominic. Morgan was asking him and Melissa to dine at Oak Hollow that night.

  Dominic stared at the bold handwriting, wondering what had prompted Jason's desire to see him. Apart from Jason and Catherine wishing to bid them farewell, he could think of no other reason. Shrugging, he turned to Melissa and said, "My brother would like us to dine with him at your uncle's home tonight. Have you any objections to accepting the invitation?"

  With mixed emotions Melissa considered the invitation. By accepting, it would signal the end of their privacy and she wasn't positive that she was ready for that; these days alone with Dominic had precious to her and she didn't want them to end. On the other hand, they could not remain sequestered from the world forever, and sending him a smile, she replied, "No, of course not. I'd be delighted to see you
r brother and his wife again."

  Dominic had half hoped that she would not wish to break their sylvan isolation. Once it became known that their self-imposed, supposedly romantic seclusion was over, he was certain that they would be the recipients of numerous invitations, everyone wanting to entertain the new bride and groom. And yet he almost welcomed the end to this charade—being cloistered in such an intimate setting with a woman he desired passionately, but dared not possess, was increasingly wearing on all his good intentions. It would almost be a relief to join the company of others. At least that way, he told himself, when the urge to make love to her became nearly overpowering, he could seek distraction amongst his acquaintances. Then, too, it might be just as well to have the opportunity to observe his young wife in less intimate surroundings. Perhaps by her actions as she mingled with her family and friends, he might be able to settle the ugly controversies that raged in his own mind—was she a calculating, grasping doxy who had married him for what she had gained, or was she the utterly beguiling creature whose image drifted seductively through his dreams?

  Only time would supply the answer to his dilemma, and resignedly he found some ink and paper and wrote an affirmative answer to Morgan's note. Watching the servant ride away, he frowned. Somehow he didn't think Jason's request to see him was one of mere politeness. He sure as hell hoped that Morgan and Jason weren't going to embroil him in some sort of political intrigue, but even as he and Melissa left the cottage that night to drive to Oak Hollow, he could not shake the uneasy feeling that whatever Jason wanted to see him about, he wasn't going to like.