Unmasked Heart: A Regency Romance (Regency Romance: Challenge of the Soul Book 1)

by Vanessa Riley

  He lifted her chin. "If you don't want to be invisible, take chances; live life with both palms open. No more running."

  "Are you speaking just to me? You seem to run as well."

  His arms slipped to her side. "I'm speaking to myself, too. Let nothing keep you from what you want."

  What did she want? A minute ago it was a dance with Elliot. Now to be held by a man who knew she wasn't invisible.

  She quivered. Where did these thoughts come from? The clouds should sprinkle and clear her mind of Elliot and the duke.

  "Let me dance with the prettiest girl in spectacles, out in the light." He lifted her limp wrist to his arm, and led her to the door. Music seeped through the frame, but who could concentrate on the tempo with a throbbing pulse?

  Stopping, with her hands covering the door pull, she glanced at him. "I think... maybe...."

  "Come on, Prayer Warrior. I can't stand up to the chalked line alone."

  The duke led her into the ballroom, almost as though he was leading stubborn Magnus. Then he grimaced. "A waltz."

  Heads turned their direction, and he clamped her hand onto his arm, as if to keep her near.

  "It's that new dance." He tightened his hold on her palm, threading his fingers betwixt hers. "I'm game. I tried it at a dinner party, my last session of Parliament." His voice lowered. "Too late, spry Prayer Warrior."

  He seemed to be teasing her into reacting, trying a little too hard, but in an endearing manner. Well, he didn't know that, once she’d made up her mind to walk through those doors, she'd not turn. Stubbornness was a trait she assumed she'd gotten from Mr. Telfair.

  With a sigh, she lifted her chin, and slipped into position at the line. As much as she and her sisters practiced, dancing was nothing to fear.

  The crowd seemed to hush, and surrounded them as waves of music covered everything. The duke never let go of her hand, and proceeded to twirl her. Her slippers and his buckled shoes, darkness and light, touched and swayed to the melodies of the quartet.

  She forgot the hundreds staring in her direction, the increased twittering of fans, the mouths of her sister's friends drawn into Os. Instead, Gaia focused on the angles and plains of Cheshire's kind face. She met his gaze, smiling into his luscious, sea-blue eyes.

  His firm hand sank to her waist and guided her in a turn. She missed the weight of it when they parted for the next movement of the waltz. What was happening to her reason? Could her head be so easily turned by a little attention?

  William sampled a breath between spins. The girl had heard his complaints. Stupid Stelford. Stupid friend. At least Miss Telfair was like other young women, easily distracted by romantic things. With a little charm and the miracle of candlelight, maybe she'd forget about his admission of blackmail notes and the hideous she, his cousin Deborah.

  Yet Miss Telfair wasn't like other women. She didn't want him, and could not care less about his title. Her concern to help Mary seemed genuine, without hope of any reward. She was shy and bold all at the same time. He couldn't quite figure out what response she'd offer, and that made her more fun to engage.

  Yes, if he weren't so jaded, so spurned by love and marriage, chasing this young woman, showing her what true courtship looked like, might be fun. Then maybe she wouldn't sell herself so short, settling for fantasy love as he had done.

  And she wasn't so brown, but possessed a light tan from the sun. Though milky-white skin was the rage, how could anyone reject someone who glowed when she smiled? Miss Telfair possessed a generous mouth, with a cupid's dimple at the top of her praying lips. How would the lady react to a kiss?

  Wanting to kick himself for entertaining any such notion, he looked away from her face, settling upon her braided chignon, the soft-looking curls cupping her ears. She was as exotic as Stelford had exclaimed, and William couldn't help being her champion. Somewhere between the first time he’d spied her, and the romp with Magnus's burning tail, he'd developed a soft spot for her.

  Stupid, stupid William.

  She peered up at him for a second. Those formerly lonely eyes now held hazel lights. A small smile hung on her sweet lips.

  And his chest was full. He'd lifted her spirits. That feeling almost washed away the sting of the blackmail note. How did the blackguard find him hiding in Devonshire? When would his wife's adultery be made known to the world? How deeply would the news affect Mary's future? How could she not be stained by such a wanton mother?

  "You're frowning. Is something else wrong? Have you had enough?" Miss Gaia's whisper reached his ear, her soft breath sweeping his jaw.

  "Never. I mean, I'm enjoying this. Let's keep our places. That was only a half dance. A full reel is starting."

  Perhaps Miss Telfair was the solution, not only for Mary's muteness, but to rid himself of fortune hunters and bombastic cousins. A romantic at heart, he could shower Miss Telfair with attention and allow everyone to know his favor was claimed. That might spur Mr. Whimple into action. Nothing makes a buck move more than competition.

  How would the prayer warrior respond if she knew the thoughts in his head? And was William as safe as he thought? Miss Gaia claimed to love Mr. Whimple, but a young woman's heart can be changed. William's late wife was proof of this.

  The young lady beamed at him. Her crystal lenses focused her eyes like a prism. William's gaze stayed locked upon her as she pivoted about another man. She was the perfect height, tall enough to lay her head on his shoulder, making it easy to siphon the hint of sweet honeysuckle in her auburn hair. Yet the lass was short enough that he could hover about her and protect her within his embrace.

  Stelford was correct. Her holding onto him, pressed tightly against him as they rode to save her brother, was a memory he couldn't forget. Oh, the rhythm needed to pick up so he could be about her again.

  A few more partner exchanges occurred then she came to him, claiming his fingertips, sending a jolt with the touch. Hand-in-hand, they sashayed underneath the extended arms of a neighboring couple. Another separation, and his palms chilled. Could they possibly be wet with perspiration? Stupid gloves. He wiped his tailcoat as the dance sent her another way. Focus, William. Fancy steps weren't enough to help Mary. Without Mr. Telfair's permission, Miss Gaia wouldn't be able to help.

  The music of the violins began to subside. The quadrille was ending. It had to be for the best. Another minute so close to those kissable lips, he'd forget himself. Bachelorhood suited him.

  A sigh escaped as her hand left his, but he wasn't sure whether it was singular, or a duet. "Miss Telfair, please introduce me to your friends."

  "Come, meet my aunt. She's the key to swaying Mr. Telfair." She slipped her palm along his sleeve, to the crook of his arm.

  He patted her silk-clad fingers, glanced into her wide eyes, and allowed her to lead the way.

  Winding through the crowds, they made it to the corner. Two older women sat in each other's confidence, chatting. One of elegant dress, the other more simply dressed but with a pretty face partially covered by a drooping egret feather. They hushed as soon as William and his prayer warrior stood within earshot.

  "Your Grace, this is my aunt, Mrs. Monlin. You remember my stepmother."

  Mrs. Telfair's brown eyes held a smile as she reached for Gaia's hand. “Duke, are you enjoying your time in Devonshire?"

  "I am. It's always good to be here in the country."

  "I heard you've taken residence at Ontredale; such a fine, luxurious property." Mrs. Monlin's gaze whipped over him.

  Why did it feel as if she’d just rifled through his banking notes?

  The prayer warrior started to fidget as a young man and young lady came near. "Your... Your Grace, this is my sister, Miss Julia Telfair, and Mr. Elliot Whimple."

  Whimple? With a quick glance, he scanned the fellow; tall and thin with a round face, slightly handsome, if you like that sort. "Good to see you again, Miss Julia. Pleased to make your acquaintance, Mr. Whimple."

  The young man puffed up his chest. "My father vis
ited with you at Ontredale. He may have told you I just graduated from Oxford."

  Many families had darkened William's door these past weeks. Yet the name did hold some curiosity. One glance at his dance partner's brightening cheeks confirmed it. "Yes, I do remember someone mentioning prayers... for your success."

  Miss Gaia glanced at the floor.

  William didn't mean to make her uncomfortable, but how could he resist the tweak? "Your father mentioned you would be studying plants close to Ontredale."

  Extricating his palm from the lovely Julia Telfair, Mr. Whimple extended his arm.

  "Yes, but tonight should be about amusement. Miss Gaia, it's the last dance. Should we share this one?"

  William wouldn't call it jealousy stiffening his spine, but it was something. Why did it bother him for the man to whom Miss Gaia was partial to ask her to dance?

  The final set of the evening. Gaia's heart beat in her ears.

  Elliot's gaze settled on her. "May I claim it?"

  With her head still spinning from dancing with the duke, she had to squint to focus on Elliot's square chin. He nodded, as if to beckon her forth.

  How was this true? Did the man who held her heart want her? What changed his mind?

  Deep inside her, a thrill coursed through her blood. This was her chance to be in his arms. Did his reasons matter?

  Stomach flipping, Gaia leaned forward to accept the invitation. As she slipped her palm from the duke's arm, she glanced at her sister's frown. Pretty Julia looked miserable, her chin lowering. Would she be slighted if Gaia accepted Elliot's offer?

  Though her sister was insensitive, she should never experience a tenth of the pain Gaia had just lived. No one should. And more so, Julia didn't have a gracious duke to rescue her.

  Heart wrenching, Gaia pivoted and looked into the duke's eyes. His gaze swept over her, studying her as if he, too, awaited her response. "I believe I promised the Duke. You did ask, did you not?"

  Aunt picked up her punch cup and clinked it against Sarah’s. "That would be a second dance. You highly favor our girl, sir."

  The flautist and a harpist began to play.

  The duke's large palm gripped hers. "I did. Two full dances. The next set is beginning."

  Elliot yanked on his flopping cravat as he stared at the duke. Did her choice in partners matter to him?

  Julia's eyes went wide, but then a smile bloomed on her countenance. Something in Gaia's soul stung, but she bit her tongue. Where did their sisterly affection go? Why did it only return when Gaia let Julia win?

  With a nod to Sarah and Aunt, the duke drew Gaia to his side and led her back to the floor.

  An unreadable expression set in his eyes as he twirled her about the chalked floor, though now very little of the flower pattern remained. He said nothing. The humor, which once painted his face, had disappeared, leaving a tense, thin line on his lips. As the music waned, he dropped his head close to her ear. "Do you think you and your parents will join me at Ontredale next week? I have someone whose acquaintance you should claim, Lady Mary’s."

  She looked to the ground, half-honored and half-grimacing at the potential implications of an association with a man so rich. "I... I can't accept on their behalf."

  "Then, I will have to convince them and you, too."

  The tone of his voice was full of challenge and charm. Her skin pimpled. There had to be something more to his asking than helping his daughter. Perhaps, he'd let her help with the mystery of the notes and the she.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Courting Maybe?

  WILLIAM TAPPED HIS foot on the Hallows' drive, waiting for his footman to bring round his carriage. He hadn't thought he'd be out this long at the ball. Quarter past twelve. Hopefully, Mrs. Wingate and the new nurse got Mary to sleep on time. Maybe this attendant would be more competent in child-rearing than the last.

  Nevertheless, he'd been able to put his daughter to bed this past week, and she slept through the night. No nightmares.

  Stelford walked from the top of the steps to stand by William. "Did you enjoy your evening?"

  The man's cheeky grin loomed large in the glow of the lanterns illuminating the facade.

  Stretching to appear too tired to respond to the inquisition Stelford would soon bring, William shifted his stance. "Look, my carriage is here."

  They settled in for the ride back to Ontredale. The darkness of the compartment would do little to stop the forthcoming Stelford. The man liked a good joke at others’ expense, one of his more irritating traits. Yet that sense of humor had helped William this past dark year.

  Stelford chuckled and planted his shoes on the floorboard. "You looked quite pleased with the studious chit. Upon further inspection, she does have a bit more appeal than her glasses."

  Oh, that she did; a fine figure, quick wit, and a golden heart for others. She could've forgotten his offer and danced with the man to whom she was clearly partial. From her sister's relieved countenance, it seems Miss Gaia Telfair spared the girl hurt feelings.

  Miss Gaia was faithful to his request. Fidelity was a great attribute in a friend. He blinked away his wayward thoughts and stared at his companion. "When did you have a chance to do this inspection? You didn't dance with her."

  More insidious chortles fell. "I happened to look through the library window, and saw two sweethearts under a shining moon. Indiscreet ones."

  William dropped his head in his hand. "I had to take her mind from your ramblings. She'd overheard our discussing Deborah and the blackmail notes. It is you who must be more careful."

  "Tell me, were you thinking of me when the girl was in your arms waltzing, or when you hovered about that fine figure on the darkened balcony?"

  Would it condemn William for all eternity if he beat Stelford bloody?

  His friend reached out and laid a hand on his shoulder. "It's fine to live. Elizabeth would not begrudge you. Maybe if you indulged, it would balance the scales. Then maybe you could forgive Elizabeth's mistake."

  "How would the pursuit of a respectable young woman balance a liar?"

  Flinging his hand away, as if he'd touched hot coals, Stelford sputtered a mumble before he cleared his throat. "I thought that, maybe, since she'd found a bit of happiness before she died, your finding happiness now would make things better."

  Heat began to flood William's stomach and whipped into his lungs. He swallowed hard to control his voice. "You are my oldest friend, but there are some things that I will not discuss."

  "Or forgive. I am your oldest friend, and I was her friend, too. I just think if you forget the past, you could find peace."

  Of his marriage, all he could claim was a bag filled with horrible memories, and little girl broken by them. Miss Gaia Telfair had to be the source of salvation. She could save Mary. That would ease his guilt.

  Flashes of the last argument with Elizabeth burned in his head. If he'd stayed in Cheshire instead of escaping to London, maybe he could've calmed her down, kept her from pitching headlong down the stairs. Perhaps he could've spent her last moments asking and accepting forgiveness for the wrongs of their marriage. That would be better than the pile of regrets living in his soul.

  He brushed at his hair and stuffed his top hat down harder upon his skull. If he'd been able to make Elizabeth happy, then maybe Mary wouldn't have been harmed. His girl spoke before that night, he was sure of it. Something else happened, and it surely caused Mary's muteness.

  The carriage stopped and William bounded out. The lights of his little girl's room blazed more so than the solitary candle her nurse set for sleeping. He ran up the entry and pressed open the door.

  Mary's chilling cry gripped him as he stepped into the grand hall. Panicked, he pounded up the stairs and into her room.

  Mrs. Wingate met him at the bedchamber. "She's been screaming for the past hour. We don't know how to soothe her."

  "Give her to me." William tossed off his hat and held out his arms to the nurse.

  Mary jumped for him. H
er chubby fingers locked about his neck.

  "Papa's here. Everything will be well."

  Her cries lessened, but her wide eyes seemed to look through him.

  "Sir, let me take your coat." Mrs. Wingate bent and scooped up his beaver domed hat.

  How unusual this must all seem. With one hand pressing Mary to his chest, he used the other to whip off his outer garments. Surely, he'd become a juggler, able to cradle and rock Mary as he stripped off his jacket and gloves.

  Mrs. Wingate took the items and nodded to the nurse. They both shot from the room. Good. This was something only a father could do.

  Another five minutes of rocking and traipsing back and forth, and Mary finally settled. She reached up and grabbed his ear.

  "Ouch, my sweet; let go. I know these big lobes are a target. Everything is all right. Tell Papa what has upset you."

  Her sea-green eyes held his gaze.

  Carrying Mary to the window, he pointed to the moon and the edges of the crags illuminated by the stars, and hummed.

  His girl touched his lips and pinched at her mouth, as if she tried to mimic.

  "Music helps, just as Miss Telfair said. 'Til I can get her to you, tell me how to help."

  Nothing but Mary's short breaths answered him.

  His heart sank as his throat thickened. If Miss Gaia were here, would she cry out to God? Would He answer? Looking down into Mary's reddened face, William almost had the heart to try.

  Gaia climbed the stairs and ambled into her bedchamber. It was well past one in the morning by the time they reached Chevron. Aunt seemed to want to make sure that the duke and Elliot had gone before asking for the carriage. Neither gentleman favored any other lady, so Aunt Tabby's high-handed tactics were for naught.

  It would take some time for the cook to attend the others gowns and stays before the woman made it to hers. Swirling in front of the long mirror, she remembered twirling with the duke, his strong arms guiding her. He gave no care for her old clothes and thought her pretty. Pretty Gaia Telfair. Dark Gaia Telfair pretty?