For the Heart of a Roguish Duke by Harriet Caves
Chapter Two
“My deepest apologies, Sir,” Madeline said, dropping into a quick curtsy before stepping back until her back hit the door of the library she’d wandered into. “I…I merely—” She couldn’t think of how to excuse herself.
“Do not be overly concerned,” the stranger said. Madeline tried not to stare at him, seated in one of the oversized chairs that her step-sister Anne had convinced Phillip to buy for the family library. “I was just leaving.”
“Oh, please don’t,” Madeline protested. “I do not wish to disturb your solitude.”
“It would have happened eventually, in any case,” the stranger said. Madeline summoned up all of the courage she possessed and pulled her gaze up from the floor to look at the man she’d intruded on. It was hard to fully tell what he was wearing, though his boots shined beautifully in the lamplight. The man’s mask was black and white, with intricate swirls and curlicues extending out beyond its edges.
Could it be Frederick? But how?She had wandered the halls beyond the main receiving area for a few minutes after fleeing from Georgiana’s humiliating stunt, but Madeline couldn’t think of why Frederick would have wanted to hide out. Maybe he was as embarrassed as I was, she mused. She felt her cheeks warm up with a blush. If it was Frederick, then she had another chance at making a good impression.
“I’m sure we could share the calm of the room between us,” Madeline suggested. “For myself…I often find that one person, in a rather large room, is easier to bear than many.”
“You are correct in that,” the stranger replied. “Would you like to move closer? I am interested to see more of your mask.” Madeline fought down the urge to giggle, and stepped closer to where the stranger sat. He rose to his feet, as befit a gentleman in the presence of a lady, and Madeline tried to remember what she’d seen Frederick wearing while they danced together. She’d spent half the evening staring at him, but couldn’t remember the details well enough to be sure.
“My step-mother had it specially made,” Madeline said, bringing one hand up to gesture to the complicated mask. The costumer had used blue and green, like the colors of her eyes; but the blue on the mask swirled around her green eye, and the green on the mask swirled around the blue. The costumer had insisted that it would take attention away from her “distinctive” eyes, and so far it seemed to be correct.
“And I see you have carefully dyed your fan to match,” the man observed. Madeline smiled.
“It is not exact, I’m afraid,” she said, spreading the fan open to show the stranger. “But I did the best I could.”
“You did excellent work,” the stranger said. “I can think of no shop in Town that might turn out more precise work.”
“You are very gracious,” Madeline said, feeling her cheeks heat up again.
“I am merely honest,” the man told her. Madeline took a deep breath as surreptitiously as possible, trying to suppress the rising heat in her cheeks. It was one thing to blush a little—it was another altogether for all of her face to turn as red as a poppy.
“I appreciate your sentiments,” Madeline said as calmly as she could. “So…who are you hiding from all alone here?”
“In truth, I’m hiding from everyone,” the man replied. “I find sometimes that the prospect of an evening spent in too much company is more of an imposition than a blessing.”
“Then why do you come?” Madeline asked, feeling a little hurt. If it was Frederick, had he felt that way since their dance? Since before it? Was she part of the source of his need to be alone?
“I am seeking a bride,” the man replied. “And, of course, I am friends with the master and mistress of this home.”
“Of course,” Madeline agreed. “If you are seeking a bride, then I believe it would be rather easier to talk to ladies on the dance floor.”
“I have a particular lady in mind,” the man replied.
“Oh?” Madeline asked, curious.
“Yes,” the man replied. “It seems a waste to dance with many ladies when only one will do.” Madeline fluttered her fan slightly, cooling her face.
“Pray, tell me about this woman,” she said.
“The woman I have in mind, of course, lovely and accomplished—all young ladies like you are, I have found,” the man began.
“We are encouraged to be,” Madeline agreed.
“But I also require a lady of discretion and good cheer, a lady who is able to amuse herself in her own pursuits,” the man continued. Madeline nodded slowly, evaluating his words against what she had discussed with Frederick earlier in the evening. The man was acting as if he knew her, at least a little. And the mask was—she was almost certain—the same one Frederick had been wearing.
“It sounds as though you expect your future bride to spend much time by herself,” Madeline mused.
“I have my own pursuits,” the stranger replied, smiling slightly. “But then, from what I have seen, this is quite a normal thing in a marriage.”
“Well, perhaps I can direct you to the correct woman if you can tell me more specifically what you seek,” Madeline suggested. Her heart pounded in her chest. She couldn’t shake the feeling that it was Frederick standing there, that it was really him in spite of the long odds, and that he, of course, knew he was talking to her.
“I have learned to my grief that the appearance of a woman is not as important a consideration as her character,” the masked man said.
“I have been told I have a great deal of character,” Madeline mused.
“Are you proposing yourself for the position?” the masked man asked. Madeline fluttered her fan lightly.
“I may consider it,” she replied.
“Well, My Dear, are you a woman of excellent understanding?” The man moved closer to her, and Madeline felt her heart stutter in her chest.
“I would prefer to believe so, yes,” Madeline said.
“And what are your thoughts on the duty of a woman to her husband?” the masked man asked.
“Of course, she must provide him with heirs if she can, she must keep the home running, ensure that his money is not squandered on petty things,” Madeline replied.
“Do you believe there must be love to make a marriage work?” the man asked, and Madeline’s face flamed. She looked up into the masked man’s eyes.
“I think love can come over time,” she said, already almost breathless. She had had Lucy leave her stays a little loose, so that she wouldn’t faint during the dancing that the night promised. They hadn’t seemed to be a problem until just then.
“Do you, now?” the man asked, and he was only inches away from her face. It was the closest that any man had ever been to Madeline, save for her father and one or two of the most trusted servants, and even the valets her father hired hadn’t gotten quite so close to her in years—only as close as required to help her down from a carriage.
“I do,” Madeline said. “They—they say that you can know whether you can love someone by the first time you touch them.”
“I wasn’t aware of that,” the man said, smiling in amusement again. “Perhaps we should see if there is something of a possibility of love between us.” Before Madeline could say anything in reply, he leaned in and his lips brushed against hers. For a moment, she was taken aback, frozen in place. But as the stranger’s lips pressed more firmly against her own, Madeline felt heat rising up through her body.
It was unlike any kiss in her experience, from relatives who were permitted that level of intimacy. The stranger’s hands glided to a stop at her waist, his lips firm and yet soft against hers at the same time. She returned the pressure, bringing her hands up to rest on his shoulders. She had seen her parents kissing, but even that was a pale silhouette compared to the experience of actually being kissed, of feeling the heat in the stranger’s body and her heart beating so fast she thought it might come to a stop.
The stranger’s hands slid to her back, and Madeline almost broke away from the kiss to gasp at the sensation of her body pressed against his, the shock of being even closer, of feeling the hard muscles through his clothes. Her head swam, and she gave herself up to the kiss, carefully sliding her tongue past her lips when she felt the wet glide of the man’s tongue against them. All at once, her mouth was open and her tongue went to war with the stranger’s, batting and twisting and dodging and darting.
She felt the sharp graze of the man’s teeth against her bottom lip, and tried to mimic his trick, but felt him pull back as she bit instead of nibbling. Madeline stumbled slightly, looking up into the masked man’s eyes, breathless. “I’m so sorry,” she said quickly. “I’ve…I’ve never done anything like that before.”
* * *
William frowned, looking down into the face of the masked woman he had been kissing a moment before. “You haven’t?” he asked. By the way she had flirted with him, and something that had seemed familiar about the mask and the face he could see around it. He had assumed that the woman who’d come into the library was one of Phillip’s acquaintances.
“No!” the young woman said, her eyes widening behind the mask she wore. Who the devil is this woman? He reached out, his hands going behind the young woman’s head and finding the ribbons that tied her mask in place.
“Who are you?” he asked, untying the ribbons quickly, before the stranger could stop him. Her mask fell away, and with it her eyes came to his notice right away. The coloring on the mask had suppressed their unusual colors, but without the mask in the way it was easy to see the difference between the two: grass green on one side, and blue as the ocean in summer on the other.
There was only one person in the entire city of London that William knew about who had eyes like that: the young Lady Madeline, the sister-in-law of his best friend. A virgin debutante, in her first season as a woman of society.
“Dear Lord!” William took a step back, and he saw in a flash the hurt in the younger woman’s eyes, replaced a moment later by anger.
“My eyes aren’t that strange, to merit a shout,” Madeline Beaumont said, her sweet, soft lips turning down in a frown and her brows knitting together in a scowl.
“No,” William said, dismissing the idea that his problem was with her eyes. “I thought you were someone else.”
“So you—” Madeline blinked rapidly and William saw comprehension come into her strange eyes. They widened and her cheeks flushed a deep pink. Before he could react, she had stepped toward him and reached up, untying his mask. “You? You’re the Duke of—” her voice cracked as she said the words, the mask still in her hands.
“Lady Madeline—” William began, but he didn’t have time to finish. Madeline snatched her mask out of his hands and turned on her heel, rushing out of the room as quickly as she had slipped into it less than a half hour before. William stared at the closed door, reeling at the enormity of what he’d done.
It was one thing to keep a mistress, and one thing to flirt and kiss young women who had had a few seasons, who knew what they were doing and how far they could push things while keeping their reputations intact. It was quite another to kiss the young, virginal sister-in-law of his best friend. It was even worse to do it under his best friend’s roof, as a guest in his townhome.
William sank back into the chair he’d taken and sighed. Given the reputation he’d developed over the past few years, there was no doubt in his mind that Madeline was utterly scandalized by what he’d done—what she’d allowed him to do. She must have thought he was someone else entirely, and William couldn’t help wondering what sort of man would have merited Madeline letting her honor be eroded with a kiss that could have cast shame on her name.
He rose to his feet, starting to pace in Phillip’s library. William tried to think of what he could do to salvage the situation. On the one hand, maybe Madeline would be too scandalized and too afraid for her reputation to say anything to anyone. With any luck, she’d go back to the ball and do her best to maintain her composure. But that still left the issue of how William had done his friend wrong.
During the party was not the right time to confess what he’d done and seek his friend’s forgiveness. William sighed and looked at the mask he’d put aside when Madeline had fled the room. The only thing he could do to salvage the situation was to go out, be sociable, and let Phillip introduce him to a few of the ladies attending the masquerade. He might even have to dance with some of them, just to make a show of the effort he was making.
William put his mask on and took one last look around the library, shaking his head at the bad luck that had brought the least appropriate woman into his arms at the least appropriate time. He opened the door and stepped out of the room, following the sound of music and voices, and hoping that he could avoid Madeline—not to mention Georgiana—for the rest of the night.
As William made the circuit of the hall, nodding to the various greetings directed at him as he emerged from hiding, he looked around. Georgiana was occupied with another suitor. He couldn’t see Madeline anywhere in the room, and as he looked around he noticed that the Lady of the Manor, his friend’s wife, was also nowhere to be seen. Was Madeline telling her sister about what he’d done? If Phillip heard about it, there was a possibility that he would be forced to demand satisfaction from William.
William let one of the young ladies who had been after him all night pull him into a meaningless conversation, and invited her to dance the next set with him, still looking around for any sign of the debutante whose honor he had trifled with. When Madeline didn’t reappear, he tried not to worry about it, but he couldn’t help but feel like he would have a reckoning ahead of him.
“William! You’ve rejoined us!” William turned at the sound of his friend’s voice, and smiled at Phillip. He and his best friend might be at odds soon, but for the moment at least, Phillip didn’t know anything about what had happened in the library. That was all William could hope for.
