Dangerous Masquerade

by Peta Lee Rose

  “Your husband?” When she nodded, he continued, “Which is why you are so sure about what it was he wanted.”

  She nodded again.

  There was a long silence while he struggled with the possibility that ghosts existed. Then she said in a small voice, “He chose you.”

  Stunned, he looked at her. “What do you mean?”

  “Monty remembered we were childhood friends, and that he’d met you in London. He decided we would be a good match. He suggested I attend the masquerade, and he was there himself to watch over me and make sure you and I met. I remember I couldn’t find you, but there was a Mark Antony who looked a little like you. He was interested in me, but Monty took him out of the picture.”

  He smiled broadly as he remembered. “The large pot.”

  “You saw it topple over onto him?”

  He nodded. Luc knew who the Mark Antony was and, without a doubt, knew he’d have been attracted to Ria. A muscle ticked in his jaw as he made a mental note to never allow her anywhere near the man. He’d be damned before he let him turn Ria into his Cleopatra.

  He thought about how he’d intended to return to London the day after the masquerade. Hard as it was for him to believe, if it weren’t for the interventions of a ghost, he might never have met her again.

  Curious about her ability to see Monty, he asked her, “Is he the only ghost you see, or are there others?”

  “Others too, but they usually don’t approach me or remain as long as Monty has. My father said they sometimes stay if they have unfinished business or occasionally because they like it.”

  “Your father? Could he see ghosts too?”

  “The ability runs in the family.”

  “Does it ever scare you?”

  Ria shook her head. “It used to when I was small, but Father said they wouldn’t hurt me, and if they did approach me it was because they needed help—much like other people in the village. Because I was special, they were drawn to me.”

  Before he could ask more, she put down her cup and saucer and told him, “I have work to do this afternoon.” Ever polite, she added, “Do help yourself to more tea if you wish.”

  Then, to his amazement, she left the kitchen.

  31

  In silence, Ria cleared the table after supper. She glanced at Luc as he got up to assist her. He had eaten a large helping of the ragout and bread and seemed to enjoy it. No doubt it was simpler than he was accustomed to, but she refused to apologize for that. The ragout was flavorsome and the bread fresh out of the cast iron oven that was on one side of the central open fire.

  It was now snowing very heavily. The storm meant the day became dark very quickly, but earlier she had polished all the remaining furniture in the sitting room.

  To her surprise, Luc had appeared just after she started, made a comment about it being too cold in there, and had silently checked the chimney and lit a fire with more expertise than she would have expected. He had then helped her with the polishing.

  The sitting room was the last room to be done. Now that she knew he had no intention of reporting her to a magistrate, there was no reason not to return to Little Bridgeton. Ria sighed. She would miss the cottage. Life was simpler and less structured here. She resolved to return often.

  Deep in thought, Ria started at the sound of Luc’s voice and almost dropped the plate she was holding.

  Luc, standing beside her, reached out and took the plate out of her hands and placed it on the bench. “You asked me before why I had come, and I never really gave you an adequate answer.”

  He turned her so she directly faced him and placed his hands on her shoulders. The bench was at her back so she was unable to move away. His expression was intent. “I came to tell you I was sorry for what I said, that I understand what you did and why, and that I admire you for it. I thought you’d be anxious about what I would do, and I want to reassure you. As I didn’t know when you would be back, I didn’t want you to worry any longer than necessary.”

  Ria searched his face. She could see he was sincere, but was there anything else? He’d just said he admired what she’d done and didn’t want her to worry. Was that all? If so, he didn’t need to come in person. He could have written her a letter.

  Feeling compelled to say something, Ria said. “I’ve been thinking a lot about what happened lately. I should have told you earlier. I did try but not hard enough. I guess part of the problem was I wasn’t the only one who would pay the price if I had been wrong about you. But that is no excuse.”

  Luc gently pressed a finger to her lips. As he withdrew it, he softly said, “Don’t apologize. I’m the one that should do that. I was rude, but even worse, I was cruel. Though I don’t deserve it, I humbly beg forgiveness.

  His apology momentarily took her breath away! She truly hadn’t expected it. She thought carefully about how to phrase what she had to say next. “One of the most difficult things for me to come to terms with was your condemning me for behavior that was no different from your own. I can’t help but wonder—if you had not found those papers would you be here?”

  Firmly, with no hesitation, he said, “Yes, I would.”

  Ria wasn’t sure what to say to that. She shifted slightly, and he let her go. She looked at him, then frowned, still not sure how to interpret the expression on his face.

  “Even before I read them, I’d realized I was a fool. That you were honest, generous, and courageous and that you’d have very good reasons for your behavior.”

  Stunned into silence, Ria could only look at him. Then, unsure what to say, and feeling unaccountably nervous, she finished clearing up. Now silent, Luc helped her.

  Just as they’d finished, Ria inhaled sharply and raised a hand to her lips to stifle her gasp. She hadn’t considered where Luc was to sleep. She couldn’t believe she hadn’t thought of it before. They were alone in the cottage. She darted a quick glance at him, remembering the expression on his face earlier. Surely he wouldn’t expect to sleep with her?

  Once again his smooth, deep voice caused her to start as he asked, a small smile on his lips, “Have you thought about where I am to sleep tonight?”

  He obviously had. And he must have realized what she’d been thinking.

  “If you wish, I can sleep down here. The chaise lounge looks comfortable. Or…” Luc held out his hand. Ria looked at it, then at him. There was now no trace of the smile on his lips. He was very serious. Almost beseeching.

  She still didn’t know what he wanted. Were they still to be married? She should have asked him before but hadn’t dared. Despite what he’d said, she didn’t know what his answer would be. Nothing he’d said indicated that he loved her.

  But she might never have this opportunity again…

  Ria was reminded of the masquerade, when she’d made a conscious choice to walk over a threshold. Her life had been changed forever.

  If she made that choice again, what effect would it have? Dare she take the chance? A question he’d asked her once before echoed in her mind—what is the harm? She didn’t know the answer to that question, but she did know that this is what she wanted.

  Ria took his hand in hers and led him upstairs.

  32

  In the flickering light of the bedchamber fire, they silently undressed each other. Luc helped her with her gown, and Ria undid his shirt.

  The snow had created a cocoon of silence, broken only by the occasional crackle and spit of wood in the hearth and the sound of their breathing.

  He picked her up in his arms and laid her down on the bed, treating her as if she was the most precious, fragile object in the world.

  As her back made contact with the bed, she relaxed and closed her eyes. With her eyes shut, her other senses were intensified. The room smelt of the beeswax she had used to polish the wooden floorboards and the dried lavender and rosemary the freshly laundered linen had been stored with.

  He covered her with his warm body, bringing with him the aroma of citrus. His hands as he caressed h
er body were warm and soft. His touch on her skin brought the sparks back to life. They began to sizzle and dance along her nerves.

  He gently nibbled her lips. When he sucked her bottom lip, Ria melted.

  Reaching up, she stroked his broad shoulders. Even more intoxicating than the kiss itself was the effect her touch had on him. As she caressed him, she could feel his whole body shivering. Pulling him to her, she urged him to deepen the kiss.

  She sighed as he began to stroke her breasts, then gasped when he turned his attention to her nipples. For an age he focused on her breasts and then began to nibble and lick his way down her body. Then back up again.

  She whimpered and her leg jumped when he licked a particularly sensitive spot near her knee.

  As he parted her legs and settled between them, she arched up to meet him, and when he penetrated she almost purred with pleasure.

  Breathing deeply to gain control, she slowly lifted her knees higher. She suppressed a sob at the intensity of the feeling this change in position caused.

  His slow, deeper strokes, his pressing against her, increased the intimacy, and that made the pleasure so much greater. The sensations evoked were the most powerful yet, and she couldn’t stop from crying out.

  Ria felt her body quicken, then the sparks inside her danced and shattered, stronger, longer, more intensely than ever before.

  As Ria drifted back down to earth, her arms crept around his back.

  “I love you,” she whispered. “And I will never let you go.”

  33

  Ria slipped quietly from the bed. Shivering at the blast of cold air, she put on her dressing gown. Not wanting to disturb Luc, she gathered her clothes and took them downstairs.

  Soon a nice blaze began to warm the kitchen. Ria dressed in front of the fire, then made a pot of tea.

  Sipping her tea, she looked outside. Last night’s snowstorm had abated, leaving behind deep drifts of snow and a clear sky pale blue in the early morning light but with the promise of richness to come.

  As she thought of the previous night, she blushed and smiled. The last time they made love, just before dawn, had been the most intense experience yet. She would swear she felt the sparks in every part of her body, from the top of her head down to the soles of her feet.

  She didn’t know if Luc had heard her last night when she told him she loved him. And he had said nothing about their engagement. Did he still want to marry her?

  She’d already decided to say no if he asked her to become his mistress, although…

  Ever since she was young, she’d loved him. Could she really turn her back on him?

  No, she couldn’t. If he asked her to be his mistress, she would say no. But she would not leave it at that. She would tantalize and torment him until he agreed to marry her.

  She wasn’t going to lose this. Lose what they had.

  After removing her cloak from a hook in the scullery and slipping her feet into pattens, she went out the back door. Ria stood for a moment and surveyed the scene. Snow was everywhere she looked. It was piled up in large drifts against the buildings, a rich, thick white carpet stretching as far as the eye could see. There was no wind, and the sun was shining brightly from a pristine sky.

  She shivered; it was beautiful but cold. She had just picked up a piece of wood from the pile on the corner of the house when she heard a noise behind her. Glancing around, she saw Luc walk out the back door.

  Giving in to temptation, she dropped the wood, grabbed a clump of snow from a railing, and threw it at Luc. She was aiming for his chest but instead the ball fell short and showered his feet with snow.

  Laughing at the look of surprise on his face, she scooped up another handful of snow, formed it into a loose ball and threw it at him. This time her aim was better, and she hit him squarely in the chest. That ball was followed in quick succession by two more.

  Just as she launched another ball, she saw Luc grin wickedly and toss one at her. Ducking, she sheltered behind the woodpile. Raising her head above the pile, she launched another, but he was waiting for her.

  Her breath caught as he advanced toward her. Her refuge was being pelted with snow, and she had no chance to throw at him.

  Laughing, she ran for the more substantial cover of the well’s stone wall, but he reached it almost at the same time as she did. Bending down, he pulled her to her feet and caught her to him.

  He looked at her intently, then kissed her. It was an exquisitely sweet, gentle kiss.

  Suddenly behind them they heard the crunch of footsteps on snow. They stepped back from each other and turned just in time to see a middle-aged man dressed in a long coat trudging through the deep snowdrifts around the corner of the house.

  Ria’s cheeks stained pink as she thought of what he would have interrupted if they hadn’t heard him.

  He came to a sudden halt when he saw them. Breathing heavily, he doffed his hat to Ria and addressed Luc. “Our wagon and horses have become caught in a drift, and I’m unable to free them. Do you have a shovel I could please borrow?”

  She answered him, gesturing to the stable. “We have some in there.”

  He gave a small sigh of relief. “Thank you. We shouldn’t have set out so soon after the storm, but our daughter is unwell and my wife was anxious to reach her.”

  Turning to Luc, she saw him hesitate. Seeing him glance at the cottage and then back at her, she realized he was concerned at leaving her on her own. She reassured him. “I’ll be all right. Please go and help them.”

  He nodded.

  Ria turned to the man and asked, “Would your wife like to wait in the cottage where it’s warm?”

  He shook his head. “Thank you, madam, but no. She is eager to press on as quickly as possible.”

  As the two men waded through the snow to the barn, Ria collected wood from the pile and went back into the house.

  Concerned, Ria glanced out the kitchen window. Luc had been away for an hour, and Mary and the others hadn’t returned yet.

  She tidied up the kitchen and stoked the fire. Just as she straightened, she stopped still. Was that a horse? She heard the sound again, a whinny. Luc had taken his horse, using it to carry the shovels and other supplies. Or Mary could be back.

  She grabbed her cloak from the hook in the scullery, swung it around her shoulders, and looked outside from the doorway. Not seeing anything, she started to walk toward the stable.

  Just as she passed the woodpile at the corner of the house, she heard the horse again. Turning the corner, she saw it tied to a rail under the overhang. It was a familiar chestnut gelding. The horse was breathing heavily, its sides heaving as it gasped. Despite the cold, it was dripping with sweat.

  Her pulse began to race, and her heart pounded in her chest. It couldn’t be—Geoffrey was supposed to be in Ireland!

  Ria looked around frantically.

  Where was he?

  Just as she took a couple of steps back toward the shelter of the house, she heard the crunch of snow behind her.

  Spinning around, she saw him. As soon as he saw her, he began to shout. At first the words were incomprehensible, he was speaking so quickly and slurring his words, but when he got closer, she began to make out what he was saying.

  His voice slowed as he got nearer, “At last I’ve found you. It’s your fault, you bloody bitch. I’m going to make you pay. You know that, don’t you?”

  Ria took a step back. “Don’t come any closer. I’m not alone. My maid is inside and the coachman.”

  “You’re damn well lying. They’re in the village. You’re here alone.”

  Geoffrey must have seen her looking over his shoulder because he said, with childlike glee, a huge smile on his face, “You’re looking for him, ain’t you? I can see it. You’re expecting that bastard to come and rescue you! Well, he won’t! I saw him from the road. He didn’t see me, though—I cut through the fields. By the time he gets back here, it’ll be too late.”

  Keeping her voice calm, she asked him, �
��Too late for what?”

  “To save you, of course.”

  Her heart in her mouth, Ria said, “But everyone will know it was you.”

  Keep him talking, she told herself. Her mouth was dry. Moistening her lips, she continued, trying to make her voice soft and soothing. “You will be wanted for murder. Don’t you want to inherit the manor? If you do this, you won’t be able to.”

  “You believe I can’t anyway. You think you’ve seen to that. Do you think I’d forgotten? Or that I’m stupid? It’s all because of you! You’ve ruined it all! You have to pay for that! You have to!”

  Geoffrey brought his hand up from his side, and for the first time Ria saw the pistol. He began waving it as he said, “I only wanted what was mine. I told you before it was mine. It’s always been mine! And I’m still going to have it. I can break the trust. I know I can!”

  She was sure he had gone mad. His face had become purple with rage, his mouth twisted as he ranted and raved at her.

  Averting her gaze from the gun, she kept her tone reasonable. “No. It was Monty’s, and he didn’t want you to have it. His wishes must be respected.”

  Geoffrey gulped in air. As he gradually won the struggle to breathe, he calmed. “He’s dead. What do you know of what he would want?”

  “Because he told me.”

  His lip curled. “Well, he told me the manor would be mine.”

  “Did he really? Did he ever say that?”

  Geoffrey looked at her. She could see he was thinking, trying to remember. Slowly he said, “Well, no, perhaps not. But my mother did.”

  “Geoffrey, it’s not too late. If you leave now, I will forget this ever happened. You know I was setting up a trust fund for you. I will still do that.”

  “Mere pittance,” he spat. “Do you think I want your leavings? Anyway, it’s too late. Nothing you give me will ever be enough. I’m not even sure the estate would be enough.”