Magical Masquerade: A Regency Masquerade (19 page)

‘Cocking?
You?
How sordid!’

‘I
was only eighteen, my love. I have outgrown most of my vices.
Which is more than can be said for Cousin Franklyn.
I was
unsaddling the mare when he came out of the shadows behind me with a knife in
his hand.’

‘He
sought to stab you in the back!’

‘Undoubtedly.
However, I caught the shadow of the movement in the light of the lamp and I
turned in time to defend myself. There was a short, dirty fight, with which I
will not weary you, and I had him on the floor. It was then he grasped a rake
from the straw and came at me with it. He did quite a lot of damage before I
wrested it from him. Then—he kicked over the lantern.’

‘Deliberately?
In a stable?’

His
face twisted with distaste.
‘A very clever move.
While
I attempted to lead a dozen or more terrified horses through the flames, he
made good his escape. Then the fire spread to the kitchens, and I had the devil
of a time getting the servants out.’

‘And—your
eye?’

‘That
I cannot
lay
at his door, except indirectly. I was
kicked in the face by one of the horses. She was beside herself with terror.’

She
made a loving little sound and lifted her face to press her lips against his
lean cheek. ‘How you have suffered. But he should have been hanged! It was
attempted murder.’

He
pulled her closer, burying his mouth in her hair. ‘I was too badly injured to
tell my tale at once and, by the time I went to my father, Franklyn had been
there before me. He had easily convinced my father that the fire had started by
accident and the fight had been nothing more than two boys engaged in a mill. My
revered parent informed me he was not going to have his family’s name dragged
through the mud because of a turn-up between two callow boys over a wench. He
added, for good measure, that he had sampled her himself and decided she was
not worth the trouble she had caused. He had sent her away. So all my
interference had done was to lose the poor creature her position.’

‘I expect
you took care of her.’

‘We
took care of each other.’

‘I do
not know which is the greater monster, Franklyn or your father.’

‘Franklyn
would have been a son after his own heart. He never liked me. “Too damn moral”
he told me.
“Should have been a cursed parson.”’

She
gave a chuckle. ‘Cocking and “taking care” of maidservants does not sound very
moral to me.’

‘My
father had rather high, or perhaps I should say low, standards of debauchery.’

‘And
then there was the business with—Rachael? Did he really let her die?’

‘No
one but Franklyn knows the truth of it. We only know that she went off with him
that night and ended up dead. He did hit his head when his curricle overturned.
It could be true that he did not remember her until the morning.’

‘What
was she like?’

‘A
Beauty, dark like you, with a skin like rose petals.
But
to be just to my cousin, he did not seduce an innocent. Rachael would have
thought it a fine jest to lie naked on their altar while all the wildest bucks
in London lapped their wine from her belly and sacrificed to the old gods.’

‘You
knew her well?’

‘Do
not look so disapproving. Not so well as that.’ He sighed. ‘But Ned, her
father, and I rambled in the woods together when we were boys and fished for
sticklebacks in the stream. I was godfather to his firstborn son and knew her
from a babe. One could not help liking her. She was wild and ungovernable, but
she did not deserve—what happened to her. No one could.’ He said after a few
moments, ‘Have we now come to the end of your questions? No, I think there is
one more you wish to ask me, is there not?’

She
did not pretend to misunderstand him. ‘Tell me about Lady Ashbury.’

‘Lady
Ashbury is a very great lady who was kind when I most needed kindness. I think
that is all you need to know, my love.’

He
saw that she was looking mortified and added gently, ‘I do not discuss you with
her either, you know.’

‘I do
not wish to discuss her,’ Minette responded a little pettishly. ‘All I wish to
know is that you have—that you no longer—’

‘She
and I have parted.’

‘Oh,
I knew it was so! Was she very upset?’

‘Minette,
I have said all I intend to say.’ He looked suddenly stern, and she dared not
pursue the matter. But there was an undeniable chill between them in spite of
his arm around her. She suppressed a little sob.

He
gathered her closer.
‘Crying, my love?
I did not mean
to be a brute, indeed, I did not.
If you would but put
yourself in her place for a moment.
Do you imagine she would want her
name upon your lips while I hold you like this and kiss your sweet mouth? Shall
we discuss my erstwhile mistress while I touch you here, and here?’ He saw a
tear trickle down her cheek and kissed the spot. ‘For my part, I have had
enough of talking about the past.’

She
sniffed. ‘So, too, have I.’

‘Let
us change the subject.
Books for instance.
We have not
discussed books for a long time. Did I ever tell you I picked up a most
interesting volume while travelling in India?’

She was
not really in the mood to discuss books, but this impressed her. ‘I did not
know that you could speak Hindi.’

He
smiled. ‘Nor can
I
, my love. However, the
illustrations were all I required. They are very—educational.’ He gathered her
into his arms. ‘Allow me to demonstrate.’

When
Becky arrived with her morning chocolate, Rochford was long gone from her bed,
and she had slept a few sweet, dreamless hours.

‘Good
morning,
your
Grace.’ She saw the girl cast a swift
glance at the empty pillow beside Minette’s and note the indent of another
head. ‘I hope your Grace slept well?’

Minette,
remarking her air of subdued excitement, answered, ‘As well as you did, I
expect. Am I to wish you happy?’

‘Aye,
that’s it, Ma’am. We’re to be married as soon as may be.’ She suddenly bent and
kissed Minette’s hand. ‘It
were
the gown that did it!
He said I looked like a duchess.’

‘And
so you did.’ She cast aside the coverlet before remembering that she wore no
nightgown. Becky giggled and handed her the satin robe that had slipped
unnoticed to the floor during the night. Minette slipped her arms into the
maltreated garment and knotted the sash around her slim waist. ‘Is Miss
Arabella awake yet?’

‘Aye.
She
still abed, but she’s had her chocolate and some of that sweet, current-bread
she likes.’

Even
during the long, hot night she had just passed, the thought of Bella had hovered
at the back of her mind like a disembodied spirit. She was getting too close to
Franklyn and, knowing what she now did about
him,
Minette was more determined than ever to put a spoke in his wheel. He should
not harm Bella if she could help it.

The
clocks were striking noon when she left her bedchamber, knocked softly upon
Arabella’s door, and opened it. ‘Good morning, my love.’

Arabella
was sitting up against her banked pillows, rather pale and holding a damp
flannel to her forehead. ‘Oh, it is you. What do you want? I have the headache
and wish to be left in peace.’

‘You
have the headache because you drank far too much wine,’ responded Minette
coolly. ‘How could you have been so foolish as to bring your cousin to the
dinner last night? You told me the story yourself. You must know the villagers
hate him.’

Bella
shrugged and pulled a face. ‘Why should we care what they think? Franklyn told
me the truth of it. He was quite blameless, and she was a bad girl, anyway.’

‘She
did not deserve to die.’ She sat beside the younger girl and took her hand. ‘Do
you not see how he is trying to attach you, to set you against us all?’

Bella
pulled away and, in so doing, her nightgown slipped displaying the unmistakable
bruises left by a man’s grip upon her plump arms and breasts. She hurriedly
covered them and glared at Minette defiantly. ‘Well, what have you to say now?’

Minette,
conscious that her own fair skin was similarly blemished, could not bring
herself to scold. ‘I only beg you to reflect. An honourable man would not
seduce you while he is a guest under your brother’s roof.’

‘He
has not—we have not—it was just—kisses.’

‘Kisses
such as these could ruin you.’

‘Oh, let
be! Naturally, I know where to draw the line.’

‘Do
you? And where is that?’

Bella
flushed. ‘You know quite well. I would never allow anything that would make me
unmarriageable.’

‘If you
are to get a reputation for easy kisses, you will not need to.’

‘What
a horrible thing to say!’

Minette
reflected that it was as well that Bella did not know the truth. To be lectured
upon a few kisses by a woman as irremediably compromised as she would have been
the outside of enough, even for Bella.

Meeting Rochford
with indifference over the breakfast table was one of the hardest things
Minette had ever had to do. Before he had left her in the lightening dawn, he
had reminded her that, for her own safety, Franklyn must believe them to be
estranged. So, while she longed to run into his arms, she merely nodded a cool
greeting to the Duke and uttered, ‘Good morning,’ in a cold, little voice. Her
attention was immediately claimed by William, who appeared a little weak still
but recovered enough to leave his bed and make his way downstairs without
assistance.

‘Cousin,
shall we not begin rehearsals this morning?’

‘Rehearsals?’

‘For
my masque.’
He seemed hurt that she had forgotten. She made
haste to reassure him.

‘Certainly.
But
you must tell us how to set about it. I have never acted before, you know.’

He
stared at her. ‘But, of course, you have. Why it was seeing you in Lady
Fortescue’s private theatricals that inspired me to write
The Fairy’s Tragedy
.’

She clapped
her hands to her mouth, shaken by his words. So used had she become to her role
that she had almost forgotten that she was an imposter. She had stepped, all
unaware, into the snare. ‘Oh that. I do not consider that acting in comparison
with your play, my dear William.’

He
flushed with pleasure, and she breathed more easily. ‘How should we begin?’

‘With
a reading of the entire piece this morning, and after luncheon I will work with
the actors in Scene One.’

It
was not, perhaps, how most of her guests would have chosen to spend their
morning; but William was a general favourite, and they complied good-naturedly
to give him pleasure. They therefore seated themselves in a circle around the
room and sat for a while, chatting, smoothing out their manuscripts, and
glancing over their roles until William called them to order and the reading
began.

Minette
thought the play far superior to anything one might have expected to be written
by so young an author. Not only was the poetry most beautiful but the emotions
expressed therein were of a maturity and depth quite staggering in one so
inexperienced. She could only assume that suffering had fostered his talent and
sincerely pitied him.

He
seemed, however, happy and animated enough. He had praise for those of his
company who could act, and mock despair for those that mangled his words. His
brightest looks and smiles were for Minette. ‘You see!
As
though you could disappoint me.’

She
smiled. ‘I am thankful I have not lost my touch.’

‘I
should say you are, if anything, improved,’ drawled Rochford. ‘Should you tire
of being my Duchess, I dare swear they would welcome you at Covent Garden.’

She
blushed but, remembering, frowned and cast him a sullen look. ‘How could you
think I should tire of my position? To be Rochford’s Duchess is surely to reach
the heights of feminine happiness.’ Her tone was heavily ironic, only the Duke
knew that she spoke the simple truth. He raised his eyebrows, quizzing her, and
she stared back at him gravely.

The
company were released for luncheon and, as only the four young people, Edmund,
Bella, Georgie, and Selina were required for the afternoon rehearsal, the rest
of the house party retired to their bedchambers, the billiard room, or the
stables, according to their inclination. Minette was halted by Rochford’s voice
just as she was leaving the room. ‘You are a little pale, my love. I suggest
you have your sled out for a run. It will do you good.’

‘I am
perfectly well, thank you,’ she replied repressively, well aware that Franklyn
was listening and watching them. ‘I prefer to rest in my room.’