Mary Balogh - A Masked Deception

"Well, you were talking about having to think of a plan," he said. "I was merely trying to lend a helping hand, my love. Trying to help tie the knot, and all that-pun intentional!"

"In future you can keep your hands to yourself, Captain Adair," she said haughtily. "Now, shall we get this race started?"

In the late afternoon, the dowager Countess of Brampton and Lady Romley judged the needlecraft and baking entries. Margaret presented the prizes from a dais especially erected for the occasion. Brampton himself presented the prizes to the men for the winners of the various contests of skill and strength. The dowager gave prizes to those children who were brave enough to mount the platform for them.

As the hot sun began to dip in the west, the men who had been chosen for the task lit a large bonfire in the far corner of the meadow and prepared to roast their evening meal. Gaily shouting children rushed into the nearby trees to gather more dry wood for the fire, and some lads and girls, hand in hand, followed them, only halfheartedly contributing to the growing pile of firewood.

In the meantime the people from the house had retired to their rooms to begin the long and serious task of cleaning up and getting ready for the evening banquet.

Charlotte, in her room, was still feeling mortified at the afternoon's encounter with Devin Northcott. Since realizing that she was in love with him, she had been very conscious of the age difference between them. Had he lost interest in her because she was a silly, green girl? He had been interested at the start, she felt sure. She had been determined to behave in a more sober and sophisticated manner when in his presence. She hoped to convince him that she could match his thirty years in behavior, even though she was in fact only eighteen.

And now look what had happened! He had seen her yelling and jumping and romping with a host of children, and he had seen her agree to an unseemly race with a gentleman, manacled by the ankle, and clinging to his shirt, just above the waistband, just like a hoyden! And falling all over him and getting her mouth soldered to his neck. It was all too humiliating to think of.

Charlotte marched over to the bellpull in her room and rang to demand of Kitty where her bathwater was. Normally she would not have been so rag-mannered, knowing as she did that the servants must be rushed off their feet with so much to do within the next couple of hours.

She paced her room, trying to block from her mind the shameful knowledge that she was glad they had fallen over. She would not for the world have missed that sensation of being pressed against Devin's hard male body and the warmth of his throat. What had he been about to do when that infernal Charles Adair had come along cackling with hysterical amusement? Kiss her? Declare his un-dying love for her? Propose to her? Brush a smut of dirt off her nose?

She shook herself with exasperation. Tonight, at any rate, she was going to be all demure femininity. She glanced anxiously at the gown laid out on the bed-a lemon-yellow satin underdress overlaid with white lace, golden ribbons to tie beneath her breasts and to thread through her auburn curls. Very pretty and very maidenly! She was going to look like someone just out of the schoolroom again, certainly not someone to attract the worldly and almost old Mr. Northcott!

Kilty and two other maids arrived with the bathwater just in time to save Charlotte's sanity.

After the large banquet was over and the men, who had lingered over their port and cigars, had rejoined the ladies in the drawing room, the whole party decided that it was time to move out of doors. A dance that was to take place in the open air and that involved the mingling of upper and lower classes was novelty enough to arouse a great deal of excitement.

Darkness had fallen, and the grounds before the house were transformed. The trees at either side of the lawns were strung with hundreds of lanterns. Poles had been set around the huge dancing floor. Each had been wreathed with leaves and flowers, and more lanterns, all a deep rose pink. Similar lamps had been set around the orchestra stand.

Long tables covered with crisp white cloths had been set on the upper lawn and were laden with refreshments of all kinds. Liveried footmen stood close to the tables to help any guests who needed assistance and to replenish any platters or bowls that were emptying too fast.

Lord Brampton held out his arm formally to escort his wife from the house. She placed a white-gloved hand on his arm. His eyes appreciated her careful appearance. She wore a rose-pink silk gown, deceptively simple. The ribbons that fell from below her breasts almost to the hemline, and the rosebuds that were entwined in the knot were of a paler pink, and rosebuds of the same shade had been embroidered around the scalloped hem. Margaret had been very tempted to give in to Kitty's coaxings and allow her hair to be dressed more becomingly. But at the last moment she had lost her courage, and still wore the usual braids coiled at the back of her head, though she had allowed Kitty to push the stems of two rosebuds into the coils.

"You are looking very lovely, my dear," Brampton commented softly close to her ear.

"Thank you, Richard," she said calmly.

The tenants of the estate clustered on the lower lawn, close to the dance floor, watching eagerly the rare spectacle of a large gathering of the upper classes in all their evening finery. They set up an impromptu cheer as the earl and countess approached, leading the way.

Brampton signaled the orchestra and the dancing began. He led Margaret onto the floor to begin the first country dance. The musicians had been instructed to play far more country dances than was usual at a ball, so that everyone would have a chance to know the steps. Soon the floor was crowded with dancers making up sets, simple starched country gowns jostling the finest satins and lace.

Charles danced the first set with Charlotte, then danced in turn with each of the ladies of the house party and of the other invited families. He was desperately avoiding the clutches of Susanna Kemp. Annabelle, meanwhile, was dancing more frequently with Ted Kemp than would have been allowed at a formal London ball. She might have been surprised had she known that the male house guests had a bet on as to how soon a betrothal announcement would be made.

Charlotte was in a determinedly gay mood. As usual, she did not lack for partners. She danced every dance, including one with Devin Northcott. It was a country dance; inevitably they were separated frequently by the various movements of the dance. It was most frustrating. There seemed to be as little chance for conversation as there had been that afternoon, when they had been lying side by side on the grass.

"You are looking particularly delightful this evening, Miss Wells," he said as the music first struck up.

"Thank you, sir," she replied. "You are very kind."

And the dance steps forced them to move off in different directions.

"Your sister and brother-in-law have excelled themselves today," he commented the next time they were together. "This is a magnificent gala."

"Yes, is it not?" she replied brightly.

And again they were headed in opposite directions. And so it continued. It was not a situation conducive of the growth of a courtship.

Charlotte waited with barely concealed impatience for a waltz. Finally the musicians began to play one. She looked quite brazenly across the floor to where Devin was conversing with the town doctor and his wife. He turned in her direction and began to move away from his companions. Her heartbeat accelerated.

"Miss Wells, I have been waiting for a waltz so that I might ask you for the honor," announced a smiling Rodney Langford, stepping into her line of vision.

She turned on him a bright smile. "How delightful!" she lied. "It would be my pleasure, sir."

She watched with chagrin over her partner's shoulder as Devin waltzed by with Meg in his arms.

At least she was glad it was Meg, rather than some simpering miss who would be batting her eyelids at him. Charlotte could have screamed as she smiled affably and chatted gaily to the unsuspecting Rodney.

Brampton was also watching his wife and Devin circle the floor, his feelings very similar to those of Charlotte. He had given the instructions for mostly country dances, yet he had insisted on a few waltzes. And he had had his wife very much in mind when he had given those orders. He wanted to make this evening a very special one for him and her. Tonight, against this unusual and magical setting, he hoped to begin wooing her love. And he had very much wanted that first waltz. He let his eyes stray along the edge of the dancing floor until they lit on the plump and pasty daughter of Sir Leonard Petrie, a fairly distant neighbor. A few moments later he was bowing gracefully over her hand and leading her into the dance.

Devin succeeded in securing the next waltz with Charlotte by the simple expedient of reserving it with her ahead of time. He held her formally, almost at arm's length. She danced with eyes lowered, quite unlike the vivacious and friendly Charlotte he had known before Bram's infernal brother had returned from the wars. Was she embarrassed, or was she just uninterested, dreaming of the younger, dashing soldier?

He inclined his head in the direction of Bram, who danced by holding his wife rather indecently close. Neither of them appeared to notice either him or his partner. Were matters improving in that strange relationship? He hoped so. He liked the sweet little countess and he certainly did not like to think of her running around London in disguise, without proper escort. Nor did he like to think of her in his own bed with Bram, like a common lightskirt.