Once Upon a Masquerade

by Tamara Hughes

A chime thrummed, drawing her attention to a clock atop the mantle. Already one o’clock? She leapt out of bed and raced to Mary, asleep in a rumpled heap on a cot at the foot of the bed.

  She nudged Mary’s shoulder and hastened to her luggage in search of something to wear. Mary stirred behind her as she pulled out a white lace gown. “Did you help me undress last evening?” She turned back toward the cot, removing the dress that had been mysteriously unfastened in the night.

  Mary flipped to her other side. “No. And I’d rather not help you get dressed either.”

  “Please. I’m already late.”

  With Mary’s grudging assistance, she rushed through her toilette, anxious not to make a bad impression on Christopher’s friend. For goodness sake. She’d already fallen asleep in the man’s presence.

  As Mary collapsed back onto her cot, Rebecca hurried into the hallway and closed the door. She turned, and her pulse skipped a beat.

  Christopher waited for her in the hall, dressed in a light fawn suit, exquisitely tailored. Uncrossing his arms, he straightened to his full height, several inches over her head. His piercing eyes regarded her a moment as if searching for answers to some silent question. “Good morning. Or should I say good afternoon?” he said pleasantly enough, although his tone hinted at something else she couldn’t quite define.

  “Did you sleep well?” she asked, noticing the shadows beneath his eyes.

  “Well enough.” As he spoke another door opened not far from where they stood. A middle-aged woman entered the hallway wearing a mass of pearls so thick they masked the bodice of her gown. Her nose upturned, she glared at them both before turning her back and strolling away.

  “Shall we?” Christopher asked, taking her elbow as if the snub hadn’t occurred.

  Rebecca walked with him down the hall, still dazed by the blatant insult. “You don’t have to wait for me outside my room. You said yourself I should be safe enough here.”

  “It’s no trouble. My door is across from yours.”

  Had she heard him correctly? Were the other guests aware of the sleeping arrangements? If they weren’t now, they soon would be. “I appreciate your concern for my safety, but you can’t stay there. It’s not proper for a bachelor to room so close.”

  “It’s merely a precaution,” he muttered, and again she sensed his thoughts were elsewhere.

  She bit her lower lip, an unwelcome thought blooming in her mind. “Did you escort me to my room last evening?”

  His penetrating stare spoke volumes. “I did.”

  Heat crept up her neck and tingled down her spine as she envisioned his strong hands unbuttoning her bodice. She simply couldn’t bring herself to ask.

  Christopher escorted her down the main staircase and out to the brick patio behind the immense castle. The smell of roses from the bushes surrounding the raised terrace wafted on a light breeze.

  It appeared most everyone was already up and about. Many sat on blankets spread out in the lush grass enjoying a midday repast in the sun. On one side of the yard a crowd of men tested their archery skills. A much quieter game of croquet played out on the opposite side of the lawns. Some distance off, she spied horseback riders enjoying the groomed trails through the wooded area beyond.

  They strolled to a buffet table overflowing with delectable summer dishes. The spread before her looked and smelled remarkable. After fixing herself a plate of food, she sat down at a table shaded by an oak tree. When Christopher joined her, she sampled the cold salmon and smoked pheasant she’d taken, savoring their subtle flavors.

  An odd silence enveloped them. She sipped her lemonade and glanced at the man beside her, wondering at his subdued, almost sullen, behavior. Christopher met her gaze, paused as if to say something, then turned his attention back to his plate. Peculiar.

  “Do you have something you’d like to discuss?” she asked, regretting the words as soon as she’d said them.

  As she feared, he jumped at the opportunity. “Yes, there is.” He pushed his half-eaten lunch away. “I’ve given a lot of thought to what happened between us in my cabin.”

  Lord, what had she started? She really wasn’t prepared for this conversation. What would she say if he asked her why she’d given him her virtue? That she loved him? Her pride would never allow her to admit it. Nervously, she sipped her lemonade.

  “I was going to let what happened pass without further ado—”

  “Yes, please do. That sounds like a splendid idea,” she agreed, knowing her suggestion would go unheeded.

  He gave her an irritated look. “Except I would be remiss if I didn’t address the potential consequences that could result.”

  Consequences? Like a broken heart. Her hand trembled as she took another swallow of her lemonade, willing this conversation away.

  As she stared off toward the activities on the lawns, he exhaled a long sigh. “Rebecca, I want you to know, I’ll support you if you should find yourself with child.”

  Expecting almost anything else but that, she inhaled mid-swallow and choked, sputtering and coughing. It took several moments before she caught her breath. “What?” she croaked. She couldn’t have heard him correctly.

  Christopher looked around as if to make sure they weren’t overheard and began again. “If you’re carrying my child, I’ll pay for whatever you and the baby should need.”

  Rebecca bristled, and pain flooded her. “Tell me. How much are children worth?” Her anger made her voice much louder than she’d intended.

  He studied the table, and his hands flexed. “I don’t wish to offend you. I only want to reach an understanding should you find yourself in that situation.”

  Undoubtedly he thought he did the honorable thing, that she was merely overreacting. “No, not at all. It’s a most generous offer,” she said, her voice heavy with resentment. “After all, it’s not as if I should expect more from you, the father.”

  “I think you know I can’t offer you marriage.”

  His words stung despite their truth. “What of your child? All you can offer is money?”

  “That’s not what I… It wouldn’t be like that,” he muttered. “I’ll be off at sea.”

  What rubbish. He couldn’t even look at her. She rose from her seat, her spine stiff, and her indignation soaring high. “How would it be exactly? Explain it to me.”

  “Lower your voice,” he urged, before staring down at his hands resting on the table. “I’m sorry I’ve upset you. That wasn’t my intent.”

  To his credit, he didn’t bother to look at all of the curious faces turned their way. Unfortunately, she did. All activity around them had ceased. With a mixture of embarrassment and vexation, she strode past the other tables and down to the grass. From a distance, she saw a path leading to a garden maze. A sudden purpose in her stride, she marched to the trail.

  How dare he? He’d have her raise their child alone? And why was it so obvious he couldn’t marry her? As far as he knew she was an heiress from Boston. All right, not an heiress—more like impoverished gentry. Still, if she was so undesirable, why didn’t he reject her attentions before anything had happened between them?

  Once in the maze, she wound through the tall shrubbery as if racing to a finish line, thoughtlessly veering one direction and another as she came to forks in the trail. She’d reached a few path ends before her pace slowed and her anger cooled.

  Was it her father’s situation that made her so unacceptable? Obviously, she didn’t have enough to cover his debt. In truth, if they married Christopher’s status in society would suffer greatly because of her.

  The stone path soon led to a small clearing where a circular fountain bubbled. She stepped toward the stone benches surrounding the spring and stared up at the marble statue of a barefoot peasant woman holding a simple pitcher that endlessly refilled the pool with clear water.

  How ironic. Days ago he’d been pursuing her, and now she wasn’t fit to be his wife under any conditions. The cruel irony was there would be no child. If C
hristopher’s insults hadn’t made her lose her temper she could have ended the whole absurd argument. Already she felt the symptoms of her coming monthly curse. The telltale backache and the swelling of her fingers always appeared the week prior to her flow.

  Standing some feet from the fountain, she caught a movement on the far side of the pool. Two figures deep in conversation stood in the shadows, so quiet the tinkling of the fountain masked their voices. She recognized Mary’s long blond hair and classic profile. One of Mary’s hands rested on the front of a man’s jacket before it crept up around his neck and pulled his head down for a heated kiss.

  As the man’s face came into the sunlight, Rebecca made out Philip Westerly’s aristocratic features. How could that be? Stunned, she stood and watched the pair for a moment before realizing she stared. Heat rose to her cheeks. Relieved they hadn’t detected her presence, she backed away into the seclusion of the hedge, and took a minute to absorb what she’d witnessed.

  She’d thought Mary already had a beau. If they’d first met while coaching in the park, had their romance begun then? Mr. Westerly’s attentions to Rebecca had waned shortly afterward.

  No. Stop. Their relationship was none of her business. She retraced her steps, hoping she would remember her way out of the intricate web.

  She walked through several turns in the maze when she reached another split in the path. Unsure which way she’d come, she randomly chose a direction, rounding the corner, and collided with a broad male chest blocking her path. Her pulse stuttered as she peered up into Christopher’s stern face, and she stumbled back a step.

  “I know this is difficult for you. After all that has happened, I don’t blame you for wanting some time to think, but under no circumstances can you leave my sight. Do you understand?” Although his voice sounded calm and controlled, his muscles were tense as if he prepared for a fight.

  The tiny hairs at the nape of her neck rose. How quickly she’d forgotten. She’d been so angry, she hadn’t thought… “You’re right. I’m sorry.”

  A flicker of surprise crossed his features. “About what I said before,” he began. “Nothing came out as I intended.”

  With an exasperated shake of her head, she walked past him, certain she now moved in the right direction. “Let it pass. I’m sure it won’t be an issue.”

  He followed along behind her. “You don’t know that.”

  Yes, she did. Still, out of spite, she ignored him. A defiant voice inside of her demanded she let him worry for a while. It would serve him right to suffer a bit as she suffered now.

  Christopher scowled. “You would rather I tell you that you’re on your own.”

  “I would prefer you say nothing.”

  “I see, ignorance is bliss.”

  Her heart twisted. “It really isn’t necessary to belabor the point that you regret what happened between us. I understand, I truly do,” she muttered, wanting nothing more than to run away from him.

  He reached out and grasped her arm, preventing her from going any further. “I take full responsibility for my actions, both in bed and out of it.” His hard stare dared her to argue further.

  She considered herself a levelheaded, sensible woman who gave everyone the benefit of the doubt whenever she could. Still, even she had her limits. Hurt and anger rose up within her until she snapped. “No one forced you to participate. You could have pushed me away before anything happened. I may have started the act, but you certainly finished it. So you can stop with your injured sensibilities and accept the fact that for one moment you wanted me.”

  She ripped her arm away from his grip. Staring at the path, she tried to hold back the tears as the smooth stones blurred below her. This wasn’t all her fault. She’d done what she had out of affection. What was his excuse?

  “It’s not a matter of wanting or not wanting. I’ve desired you from the moment we met. Hell, I could take you right now, here in the soft grass.”

  His admission sent a shiver through her, knotting her insides and draining her indignation away. “Then what is it?”

  When she met his gaze, his eyes glowed despite his final words. “We aren’t meant to be together.” Turning away, he walked back down the trail, leaving her to stare at his broad back.

  What did that mean? She assumed he didn’t want to associate himself with someone caught up in such a mess. Could she blame him? He’d been shot at because of her. And she’d confessed that her father was a habitual gambler, not the father-in-law one would aspire to bring into the family. He had much to lose from a relationship with her.

  Christopher waited at the next bend in the maze, and they walked back in silence.

  Chapter Eleven

  WITH A HEAVY HEART, REBECCA examined the palm of her hand, the skin thick and rough. While Mary arranged her hair for dinner, she sat at the dressing table and studied her reflection in the mirror before her. Green eyes stared back, and her gaze softened. She recognized those eyes. They were her mother’s.

  The woman in the mirror looked as she always did. The hair and gown didn’t change who she was inside. She would always be her mother’s daughter, the one who did her best to take care of her father.

  Closing her eyes, she inhaled a deep breath.

  Was that all she wanted to be? Her father’s protector? She’d finally found someone she could love. A man who was considerate and caring, brave and strong. Wouldn’t it be better to chase after him and fail than to forever dream of what might have been?

  Her lids opened, and a flicker of hope and determination lit those green eyes. It was time to fight for what she wanted most.

  If she’d learned anything about Christopher, it was that he didn’t give up on someone because the situation looked lost. She would do the same. His reasons for helping her might stem more from honor than caring, but she could change that. Although Christopher didn’t love her, he wasn’t indifferent to her. If she gave him her full attention, could he so easily cast her from his life? If he came to care for her, perhaps he would overlook her circumstances. It was worth the risk. He was worth the risk. Ultimately, even if he rejected her, at least she would know she’d taken the chance.

  “There, all done.” Mary stepped back to survey her work with a smile.

  Rebecca turned her head from side to side. Her hair rose in large curls like a silky bow atop her head. “Absolutely wonderful.”

  “Thank you.” Mary set a choker and earbobs on the dressing table, then retrieved a pair of slippers.

  Lifting the necklace, Rebecca studied the paste diamonds, their glassy planes twinkling in the glow of the lanterns. “Are you sure these aren’t real?”

  Mary pulled the piece from her grasp and settled the heavy band around Rebecca’s neck, fastening it into place. “Of course they’re not real. How do you think I’d come by real diamonds?”

  When Mary would have grasped the earrings, Rebecca clamped her hand around them. “Mary, be truthful.”

  Mary turned toward the bed to fold a gown that lay across its surface. “What do you mean? I am telling the truth.”

  “Christopher insists the gems on the comb I wore to the Vanderbilts’ ball were genuine. And I believe him.”

  Ignoring her comment, Mary packed the gown into the trunk. Her sudden productivity convinced Rebecca all the more.

  “Mary.”

  “All right. They’re Victoria’s.” Mary dropped back onto the bed and stared up at the ceiling. “What could I do? You needed to appear a lady, and I didn’t have any other means to dress you like one.”

  With an inward groan, Rebecca gazed down at her stunning red dress. “And the gowns?” Her friend’s silence smothered the air in the room. “Are they Miss Endicott’s as well?”

  Mary propped herself up into a sitting position. “Victoria took a dozen trunks to Chicago, and her wardrobe is still full. She won’t miss a thing.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” She rose from her chair, disgusted with both Mary and herself.

  “Everyt
hing had gone so well your first time out, I didn’t want to spoil it by admitting I’d failed you. What harm have we done? You’re practically the same size as Victoria. The gowns, the jewels, everything can be returned with no one the wiser.”

  “I wouldn’t have continued had I known.” Even as Rebecca spoke the words, she wondered if they were true. She didn’t know anything for sure anymore.

  After unclasping the choker, she set it on the dressing table with the earrings. While she could do nothing about the gowns, the jewels were another matter.

  “Rebecca, no self-respecting lady would dare be seen with only an old silver locket about her neck.”

  That might be true. Even so, tonight she would do what she wanted to, not the sensible thing, not what was expected, but what felt right.

  When Rebecca left the room, Christopher wasn’t waiting for her in the hall as he had been that morning. With so much commotion inside the hallways, she could understand why he deemed the gesture unnecessary, although she’d hoped to see him anyway.

  She walked down the long hallway, mentally preparing herself for her first meeting with Christopher since their argument. They hadn’t spoken all afternoon. While she’d stayed within his sight, he’d avoided her.

  What mood would greet her now? Would he be sullen, as he’d been this morning, or angry? And how should she react to whatever he had in store? She could pretend their argument had never occurred or apologize for her part in it.

  No, she couldn’t do that. It would be far better to ignore the whole event than to win his affection with even more lies.

  Rolling her lip between her teeth, she slowed her pace. She should relieve his mind about the possibility of a child. All afternoon, she’d regretted not telling him. She’d been wrong to torture him so.

  She reached the top of the staircase leading down to the main salon. Many partygoers already milled about waiting for dinner to be announced. Even with his back turned to her, she easily spied Christopher clad in a well-tailored black suit amid the small groups below. The way he stood, with his legs braced as if he was on the deck of a rocking ship, set him apart from everyone around him.