Read A Lady of Hidden Intent Online
Authors: Tracie Peterson
Tags: #Fiction, #Christian, #Historical, #General, #Religious
“Careful now,” the man said as he righted her.
Catherine froze. It was Carter; she would stake her life on it. From the cut of his evening coat to the parting of his hair, the black mask he wore could not disguise the man she’d come to care for.
“Please accept my apologies,” she whispered and tried to pull away.
“Nonsense. Join me for a dance.”
He smiled at her, and Catherine immediately realized that coming here had been a huge mistake. She looked back toward the stairs and gave serious thought to bolting. But without another moment’s pause, Carter was pressing forward into the sea of dancing couples. Her fate had been sealed.
C
atherine tried to ignore the man who held her. The waltz made intimacy and talk necessary, but she limited her answers to yes and no whenever possible.
“Where do you call home?” he asked softly.
“Philadelphia,” she replied, trying to lower her voice. If she could recognize his form and voice, he might recognize hers as well.
He chuckled. “But of course.”
“And you?” she asked, already knowing the answer.
“The same. I was born and raised here, but you do not sound as if you were.”
“No.”
He turned her masterfully in the midst of the other dancers.
“And that is all you will say to me?”
“To say too much might reveal my identity.”
“Ah, I understand.”
They completed the dance and Catherine curtsied deep. Before she could draw a breath, she was quickly claimed by another dancing partner and whisked away without ever being asked if she wanted to dance. Grateful that she would have no need to disguise her voice, she allowed the stranger his indiscretion.
It wasn’t until three dances later that Catherine managed to detach herself from the circle of admirers. She had spotted Winifred from across the room and made her way there to announce her presence.
“Good evening.”
Winifred looked up but didn’t appear to recognize Catherine.
“Good evening.”
“Are you enjoying the ball?” Catherine asked.
“Yes, it’s a lovely party.”
“The house has been decorated to perfection. I love the pine boughs and red ribbon. It’s quite festive.” Catherine lowered her voice. “Your mother has done a wonderful job.”
Winifred cocked her head and leaned closer. “Catherine?”
“Yes. Are you surprised?” She smiled.
“I am indeed. You hide your accent quite well. Oh, I’m so glad you’re here. I wasn’t sure you would come, but here you are and look how beautiful you’ve made the gown,” she said, taking a step back to take in Catherine’s profile. “I cannot believe that is even the same dress. You did a wonderful job.”
“I didn’t do it. Some of the other ladies at Mrs. Clarkson’s decided to remake it. I wasn’t even sure I would have time to come tonight, but they insisted.”
“I’m so glad they did. I’ve been a nervous wreck. I can’t tell which man is Leander. Do you suppose that means we are not truly intended for each other?”
“Nonsense. It’s a masquerade. The purpose is deception, but I believe it will be simple. He will be the one who most frequently returns to your side,” Catherine teased. “Besides, I’m sure you will know him the minute he comes to you.”
“I did not even recognize the gown you’re wearing,” Winifred said, shaking her head. “I can assure you it never looked like that on me.”
Catherine actually laughed. It felt so good to just let go of her emotions and enjoy the night. There was only the tiniest nagging accusation in the back of her mind. An accusation that declared her an unkind, insensitive daughter for enjoying a party while her father rotted in prison.
“I suppose you recognize everyone here,” Winifred said with a giggle. “I hadn’t considered it, but since you designed most every gown, you’ll know exactly who’s who.”
“Yes, I have a good idea.”
“May I intrude?” a man asked. “Would you care to dance?”
His voice was very formal and low, but Catherine watched as he extended his hand toward Winifred. She was certain it was Leander.
“Thank you,” Winifred said, allowing him to escort her to the floor.
She glanced at Catherine over her shoulder as if to ask if this might be her beloved. Catherine nodded and smiled.
“You have a beautiful smile,” Carter whispered against her ear. His warm breath sent a shiver down Catherine’s spine. “Are you cold?”
“No.” She moved away a step to put some distance between them.
Another man, a portly sort with greasy hair, came to bow before her. “Would you care to dance?”
“I’m afraid,” Carter declared, “you are too late. I have just asked for the dance and she has agreed.”
Catherine let him take hold of her and lead her to the dance floor. “You, sir, are a liar.”
“It’s a masquerade, my dear. We are all liars tonight. Some of us more than others. Not only that, but you are clearly the most beautiful woman in the room. Everyone is entranced.”
“Including you?” she asked, trying to disguise her voice.
“Especially me. I’ve not been able to take my gaze from you since you fell into my arms. I can hardly wait to see you revealed so that I might know you better.”
“Sometimes such revelations are disappointing,” Catherine said, forgetting her determination to answer simply and speak little.
“I’m very certain you could never disappoint,” he said with a grin.
The music concluded and Mrs. Danby approached. Catherine thought she looked rather like a pompous peacock. A collection of feathers jutted awkwardly from her head, and more than her share of diamonds dripped from her ears and neck.
“Now, aren’t you a lovely couple,” she declared. “I think there is not a more handsome coupling in the room.”
Catherine felt her cheeks grow hot and bowed her head. “You are kind to say so, ma’am. Now if you’ll excuse me.”
Winifred came forward and took hold of Catherine. Pulling her to one of the settees along the wall, she sat. “Stay with me for a moment.”
“Happily,” Catherine said, joining her friend.
They put their heads together as if sharing important secrets. Winifred gripped Catherine’s hand tightly. “I hate parties.”
“Why? What has happened to grieve you?”
“My mother.”
Catherine smiled. “And what has she done?”
“She’s making all sorts of inappropriate comments about her daughter having found a husband. I am so very embarrassed. I wish she would occupy herself in another manner.”
“So was that Mr. Arlington who took you away?” Catherine questioned, hoping to draw Winifred’s attention elsewhere.
She smiled. “Yes. I thought it was him and we cheated. He asked if I liked my new bracelet, and I told him I would always cherish his first gift. After that, we knew.”
Catherine nodded. “That’s very clever. Where is he now?”
“I’m not certain. He promised to find me later, and when I heard Mother talking about you and Carter . . .” She put her hand to her mouth. “Oh, I shouldn’t have said that.”
“I knew I was dancing with Carter,” Catherine said, leaning back. “I would know him even if he’d hidden himself under a sheet.”
Winifred looked at the room full of men and women. “I hardly know how you could figure that. I only knew him because I recognized the mask from last year. How did you know it was him?”
“I’m a seamstress. I have a way of sizing people. Your brother has a distinct way of carrying himself, and his broad shoulders are a certain giveaway. Only your Mr. Arlington comes anywhere close to matching them; but, of course, his hair and eyes are much different.”
Her reprieve was soon over as a man approached for a dance.
Catherine figured him to be at least twice her age.
“May I have this dance?”
Catherine thought to tell him no but saw that Carter was working his way over. “Of course,” she said, getting quickly to her feet. “I’d love to.”
The music grew lively and filled the air as she lost herself in the steps. The man attempted to make conversation, but Catherine had no interest. She answered his questions in a curt manner that fell just short of being rude. As the music ended, she was handed over to yet another eager partner. The night continued in that manner until Catherine thought she would surely collapse from exhaustion. A quick glance at the clock proved to her that the evening had passed by with surprising speed. It would soon be midnight.
Desperate to appear unavailable to everyone, she took up a cup of punch and ducked behind a screen that had been positioned behind the table. She pretended to be completely engrossed in viewing one of the nearby paintings and prayed that she would go unnoticed. At least for a few minutes. She had to figure out how to get out of the house.
Sipping the punch, Catherine forced her breathing to even. She had to compose herself in order to think clearly. Before she had to flee her home in Bath, Catherine had been completely capable of dealing with the attention of would-be suitors. Now, however, she felt terrified. A part of her wanted to seek out Carter and beg him to stay at her side. But she also knew the danger that might well come her way should she attempt that action. After all, she was purposefully leaving before the unveiling because she didn’t want him to know she’d been at the party.
Seeing the French doors had been opened to allow the chilled night air to cool the heated room, Catherine felt compelled to slip outside. She just might find a means of escape. Perhaps the balcony opened into another room, through which she could slip away. A quick glance revealed no one watching her. She hurried onto the balcony and moved quickly beyond the door.
One young couple stood not ten feet away, so Catherine moved in the opposite direction, seeing that the shadows at the far end of the walkway would conceal her.
The night was quite cold, but she didn’t mind. The reprieve from the crowded room seemed more than worth a little chill. She leaned against the railing and stared into the darkness. Thoughts of Carter flooded her mind and once again she considered telling him the truth. Perhaps if she explained the situation, he could help her.
“You’re going to freeze out here,” he said as if her thoughts had conjured him.
Catherine turned and found Carter only inches away. How he had managed to sneak up on her without her seeing him was beyond her.
“I . . . it was . . . I needed some air.” She backed up as far as the stone railing would allow.
Carter was undeterred. He reached out and pulled Catherine into his arms without warning. And she did nothing to stop him.
“You must know the effect you have on me. I want only to be with you.”
She shook her head. “You don’t even know me.”
“I’ll be the judge of that.” He wrapped her in his arms and lowered his mouth to hers.
Catherine’s senses reeled as Carter kissed her with a passion she’d never known. Her hand went up to gently touch the back of his neck. She knew she should stop, but it wasn’t until he pulled away ever so slightly that Catherine found the willpower to speak.
“That . . . was uncalled for.” She knew the breathless statement sounded very unconvincing.
“Was it?” he chuckled. “It seemed very called for by my account.”
“I’m cold. I’d like to return to the party.”
“Are you sure? I could give you my coat.”
Catherine pushed away and headed for the doors. She longed to stay right where she was but knew it would cause her even more pain. Who had he set his affections on? The lady behind the mask? Or did he know her identity?
She hurried to mingle into the crowd of partyers. The music had stopped and the conversations of at least one hundred people filled the air. Catherine excused herself as she rushed through the room.
I only need to reach the stairs
, she thought. Looking in that direction, she was relieved to see that the way was somewhat clear. She recognized the women who had gathered near the arched doorway. One was Mrs. Danby, another was Mrs. Smith, and the third was Mrs. Alger. She approached the women just as the clock stuck midnight.
Panic coursed through her body at the sound. Mrs. Danby turned with a squeal of delight to the gathered revelers.
“It’s time to unmask. Choose your partner and we will start in a moment.”
Catherine hurried past her, hoping that while Mrs. Danby was preoccupied with her party, she wouldn’t question one person slipping out of the room.
By the time Catherine reached the second floor, she was feeling less frantic. Just one more flight of stairs and she could reclaim her cloak and leave. She glanced over her shoulder and breathed a sigh of relief to see that no one had followed her.
“Are you leaving, miss?” the butler questioned as she reached the foyer.
“Yes, I must. Please bring my cloak. It’s the black hooded one with the velvet trim.”
The man nodded and went in search. Catherine paced nervously, fearing Carter would find her. She heard the chimes of the clock conclude, and the noise from the third floor increased.
The butler finally returned and extended the cloak. “Is this the one, miss?”
“Yes,” she replied. She allowed him to help her into it, then turned immediately for the door.