A Midsummer Night's Sin (4 page)

“And why have I brought you out here?” he asked,
even as he lifted the silken hood back and off her head, revealing a mass of artfully placed curls nearly black in the dim light.

“I’m not entirely certain. I was rather thinking it was to kiss me.”

“To kiss you,” Puck repeated, taken aback. She said the words as if they were dangerous in the extreme. “And you came here to be kissed?”

“I didn’t think so, no. But now that I am here, I may as well be hanged for a sheep as well as a lamb, don’t you think? I’m convinced my—my companion is taking full advantage of this rather exciting bit of freedom. The masks, you know. A stranger’s kiss in the moonlight.”

Puck’s brain was sending out alerts his libido pushed aside as ridiculous. She was an actress, that was all. She was most probably playing the coy maiden in hopes that the novelty would excite him.

And her ploy was working, probably even better than she had hoped. His mind was being seduced by her feigned naiveté, while the rest of him was growing hard with a base passion he hadn’t experienced since he’d been a randy youth who could have embarrassed himself at the mere thought of touching a female breast.

“Then, my queen of the fairies, we will begin with a kiss.”

Because he thought she would wish him to play along with her small charade, and because the idea of doing so only increased his growing passion, Puck
lightly cupped her chin and leaned in to put his mouth to hers.

Oh, and she was good. She did not disappoint. She allowed the kiss, but did nothing to encourage him to deepen it. She did not put her arms around him, did not immediately begin to grind her body against his, the sure signal of a professional who wished the act over and done and several gold pieces slipped into her purse.

But she’d miscalculated, badly. Her supposedly untutored mouth presented not only a challenge, but a frisson of delight that went straight to Puck’s manhood, which now strained against his trousers.

A kiss. A single kiss, and he was ready to set her up in her own apartments, give her anything she wanted: diamonds, pearls, her own carriage and stable. One kiss, and he was the fool he laughed at, enslaved by a woman whose cold-blooded profession it was to jumble the wits of idiots like himself.

Idiots like his own father.

He lifted his face away from hers and looked into her magnificent eyes.

He saw no guile. No greed. No reaction at all save what might be termed confusion.

Oh yes, she was good.

But he was better.

This time he didn’t approach her gently. He swooped, openmouthed. He took her into his arms, his lips slanted across hers, his tongue probing, his teeth nibbling, his hands traveling down her back and then coming up and around to cup her lush breasts. He insin
uated his right thigh between her legs, pressing upward against her sex.

He kissed her mouth, her throat, bent her back over his arm to press his lips against the smooth expanse of skin above the neckline of her gown.

And all the while, he crooned to her in French. How lovely she was. How he was being made mad by her virginal game playing. What he would do to her to reward her, how he would do it, how she would know she had never been made love to before, no matter how many men she’d had.

And she whispered back to him: “I have a hat pin poised to stick in your ear, and I will do it if you do not release me at once.”

The words were clear, and they had been pronounced in flawless French.

Puck hauled her upright and put her away from him, staring at her in astonishment. This was no whore for hire. He’d been duped. By God, had he been
duped?
And by some idiot slip of a girl out for a lark?

“
What
did you say?”

“Nothing half so horrible as you did, I’m sure,” she answered as she pulled her domino shut and raised the hood back over her hair. Her hands shook, but her voice was firm and clear. “I’m leaving now. Do not follow me.”

He held his arms out to his sides to prove himself harmless, once more smiling, surprisingly under control. “I wouldn’t think of it, I assure you. Only first a word of warning, you little tease, as next time you may
run into a different sort of bastard. One that would be at pains to demonstrate how ineffectual a hat pin can be. And something else. Never threaten before striking, but merely strike, or you may never get the chance. Now run away, little girl. Run until you’re safely home and under the covers.”

She didn’t wait for him to repeat himself but only lifted her skirts and ran back down the path toward the lights of the ballroom.

Puck followed after her at a walk, trying to remember what he’d said to her and what he’d suggested, believing her to be something she was not. He wondered if he’d scarred the girl for life.

She’d certainly made an impression on him, one that would be difficult to shake.

W
HERE IS SHE
? W
HERE IS SHE
?
Why did I allow her to join the dance?

Regina whirled about, went up on tiptoe, pushed past goatherds and devils with pointed tails, searching for an emerald-green domino.

Where is she!

She’d have to stop crying, or else she wouldn’t be able to see anything. She had to stop thinking about what had just happened…what could have happened. That man! So wickedly handsome, so dangerous in his black and gold.

What had she done?

Had she lost her mind?

The things he’d said! And she’d listened, fascinated by the words, shamelessly intrigued by his touch…and her reaction to both.

Regina clutched at her suddenly queasy stomach, wishing back the sweet, honeyed drink she’d downed earlier almost as if it had been water, for it had been so hot and stuffy and even rather smelly in this horrible ballroom. What had been in that cup? Nothing too terrible, surely. It was only honey…?.

She fought down the urge to cup her hands to her
mouth and loudly call out Miranda’s name, knowing she could not cause a scene, draw attention to either one of them. They would both be ruined if anyone knew they had attended this clearly unsuitable ball.

Why, there were people kissing people everywhere she turned. Giggling and touching each other in lewd ways as they passed by each other in the dance. It hadn’t been like this when they’d first arrived, but now it was. As if every tick of the clock served to strip away another fetter of society, leaving only the baseness beneath.

“Here now, my pretty, hold there while I take a look at you.” A large man wearing the costume of a highwayman, complete with a brace of pistols tucked in the sash around his waist, had grabbed her arm and showed no signs of letting go. “I’ve come for all your valuables. Pass them over, starting with a kiss from your fair lips.”

Never threaten before striking, but merely strike, or you may never get the chance.
Regina plunged the hat pin into the fleshy back of the man’s hand and ran off when he yowled in pain and immediately let her go.

She wasn’t sure which level of Dante’s Inferno she was in, but she needed to get out. Now.

She looked behind her, terrified that the man who called himself Robin Goodfellow might be following her, but he wasn’t there. Nobody she knew was there, not that she knew him.

If only she could find Miranda!

At last, she made her way through the maze of screens and plants and couches to the main entrance
and the small antechamber where a few maids and such were seated, ready to assist their mistresses if necessary.

“Oh, Miss Regina, you’re here! Thank the Lord!” Doris Ann clasped Regina’s hands in hers, squeezing them so hard it was painful. “She’s gone. My Miss Miranda is gone!”

Regina tugged her hands free, not without effort, and tried to calm the maid. “Nonsense, Doris Ann. She’s misplaced, that’s all, and most probably on purpose. When did you last see her?”

“But I never did,” Doris Ann said, sniffling. “Not since we first got here. It’s nearly midnight, and you said one hour, Miss Regina, and it has been nearer to two. And she promised me. She promised she would listen to you, if you’d only come with her. I thought you both were gone, seeing as how you didn’t want to come in the first place, but now you’re here, and she isn’t, and I thought for certain she’d be with you and—”

“All right, all right, let’s be calm, Doris Ann,” Regina said soothingly. “I’m aware that we have been here well over the agreed upon hour, but if I was…detained, then surely it must be the same with Miss Miranda.”

“I popped my head in there when no one was looking, and there’s strange and wicked goings-on in there, Miss Regina. I heard two of the other maids talking, you understand. You should neither of you have come here.”

“And we’ll be leaving the moment we find Miss
Miranda, I assure you. Now, this is what we’ll do. We’ll go inside the ballroom and look for her. You go to the left, and I will go to the right, and— Doris Ann! Don’t you dare shake your head no to me.”

“I tain’t going in there. There’s wicked goings-on in there.”

“Yes, you’ve already said that. But your Miss Miranda is in there somewhere.”
Or out in the gardens somewhere.
“You do love her, don’t you?”

“Yes, Miss Regina. But there’s wicked—”

“Do you wish to tell Miss Miranda’s parents you were a part of this? That you helped Miss Miranda find the dominos and masks, that you knew what was going to happen tonight and did nothing to stop it? That you came home without her?”

Doris Ann licked her thin lips. “I am to go to the left, you said?”

Regina breathed a sigh of relief. At least she would have help. “Yes, to the left. And if you find her, bring her right back here. Grab on to her if you have to, and don’t let go until she’s back here. Do you understand?”

Doris Ann nodded, looking fearfully toward the ballroom. “Oh, laws. They’re taking off their masks, Miss Regina. Weren’t you and Miss Miranda to be long gone before they took off their masks?”

“Oh, God…”

How could she go back into the ballroom now that people were removing their masks? They would wonder why she kept hers on, and with everyone behaving so
badly, it was even possible some forward person would try to remove hers for her.

But she had to find Miranda. Even if it was just so that she could wring her neck.

“Is there a problem?”

Regina recognized the voice and realized that the man who called himself Robin Goodfellow had found her, was even now standing directly behind her.

“No. Thank you.” She kept her back to him. Had he taken off his mask? If he had, was he as handsome as she’d thought him? Would he still be laughing at her? Would he expect her to take off her own mask? Had he really meant what he said when he’d been kissing her, speaking to her in French while he thought she didn’t understand? Could she ever look at him after she’d heard what he’d said, knowing that she knew that he knew that she’d understood him?

“All right, then. I’ll leave you to it, whatever it is.”

No! Don’t leave!

“Mr. Goodfellow—wait.” Regina bit her lip for courage and then turned to face him, ridiculously relieved that he still wore his mask. “I…I seem to have misplaced my companion.”

“Ah. So she—or he—disappeared while you were otherwise occupied?”

“Don’t be any more obnoxious than you can help, if you please,” Regina said irritably. “You know that I’m not who—what—you supposed, and not without reason, because I know I was behaving badly, so I do not fault you for that, and I will apologize for…for lead
ing you on or whatever you think it was I may have been doing— Doris Ann, stop crying! But it is of extreme importance that I find my cous—my companion, and that she and I leave this place at once.”

He jerked his head back slightly. “E-gods, you mean there are two of you? And yet not with a whole brain between you. All right, please allow me to offer my assistance. How is she dressed?”

Regina clasped her hands together in front of her, trying to keep them from shaking. This was serious. Miranda could be anywhere, doing anything. Just look at what
she
had done, and she’d never considered herself to be half so stupid as Miranda!

She quickly described her cousin and what she was wearing.

Robin Goodfellow—really, how could she think of him as any sort of help when he’d told her such a ridiculous name—shook his head. “No, sorry. I pride myself on being more than mildly observant, or I did until about a quarter hour ago, but I don’t recall any petite blonde dressed in an emerald-green domino. Or wearing such a singular mask. Perhaps we should try the gardens?”

“She wouldn’t be so foolhardy as to— Oh, never mind,” Regina said as Robin Goodfellow grinned at her in a way that had her palm itching to slap his face. Even wearing that very strange and intriguing mask, she knew that the fellow thought life was one huge lark. Maddening, that’s what he was—but her options weren’t all that thick on the ground at the moment, and
Doris Ann could hardly be counted as one of them. She had no choice. “Yes, let’s try the gardens. Doris Ann, you stay here while I go with Mr. Goodfellow, and if she returns here while we’re gone, you have my permission to sit on her!”

Robin Goodfellow took Regina’s hand and led her back into the ballroom, where at least half of the candles had been snuffed out and, although the orchestra played on, no one was now dancing along with the tune.

“It will be nearly impossible to locate her in the dark like this,” she complained. “Why on earth would they have removed half of the— Oh!”

She quickly squeezed her eyes shut and turned her face against Robin Goodfellow’s shoulder, although the memory of what she’d seen had probably already been burned into the back of her eyes for all time. Had the woman no shame? Clearly not. Not if she allowed herself to be leaned forward over the rear of a couch while her full skirts were lifted and the man standing behind her was grunting and pushing himself at her like some barnyard animal, his breeches at his ankles. Three other now unmasked men were standing about, glasses in hand, watching, raucously cheering him on, clearly awaiting their turn.

“What appears to be the— Ah, so you saw that, did you?”

“No. Look away,” she whispered, squeezing his hand.

“Well, at least he’s dressed as a goat. And they’ve formed a queue, assuring the strumpet of a profitable
evening,” he said. “And now, young lady, you know why your mama warned you never to accept an invitation to a masquerade ball. Especially one hosted by the infamous, not to mention lascivious, Lady Fortesque.”

Regina raised her head, fighting the bizarre impulse to look behind her once more, because she couldn’t possibly have seen what she’d just seen. “I highly doubt she would have thought that was because I would see my own
father
in the queue. Please, I can’t stay here.”

Robin Goodfellow stood his ground as she tried to drag him away. “Your
father?
Which one is he? No, never mind. Let me at least hazard a guess here. You don’t wish for me to totter on over there, tap him on the shoulder and ask him for his assistance. That could be awkward.”

Regina’s bottom lip trembled, and she knew she was either going to laugh or dissolve into strong hysterics. She was losing her mind, that’s what was happening.
“Please.”

“My most profound apologies. But now, at least I don’t think you’ll faint, will you? I’d take you back to your maid, but I need you to help me identify your cousin, should we find her.”

“I know,” Regina said, wondering how much good she would be in the search as she refused to raise her gaze above the shoe tops of the other guests. “Just please don’t leave me.”

He took her hand once more. “I won’t,” he said, and she believed him.

A half hour later, following a sometimes embarrass
ing, if oddly educational, search of the gardens, they returned to the anteroom carrying an emerald-green silk domino and the remains of a half mask missing some of its green glass stones.

Regina could barely put one foot in front of the other. They’d found the—dear Lord, Robin Goodfellow had called what they’d found
evidence
—at the very back of the gardens, near a gate that led to an alleyway, and he’d noted that there looked to be signs of a small struggle.

In any event, in any case, Miranda was gone.

Regina plunked herself down in the chair beside a terrified Doris Ann, put her masked face in her hands and at last gave in to despair.

Her cousin was gone. Disappeared. Vanished. Abducted.

“Stay here,” Robin Goodfellow told her and then placed his hand on her shoulder and waited until she managed to nod that she’d heard him. “I’ll take this domino and mask with me and show them around to the servants. There has to be someone who remembers seeing your cousin earlier in the evening. Maybe that someone remembers who she was with at that time.”

“Miss Regina?”

Regina raised her head and carefully eased the mask away from her face enough to wipe at her wet cheeks. “We’ll find her, Doris Ann.”

“Yes, Miss. But if we don’t?”

Regina’s entire body sagged at the question.

She would have to tell Mama, who would cry and bring up Grandmother Hackett again. Papa would be
livid that she might have destroyed his dream to marry her to a nobleman. They’d have to tell Aunt Claire and Uncle Seth. They’d be aghast, terrified.

And everyone would blame her.

Not that such a minor thing mattered. What mattered was that Miranda was gone, God only knew where and to what purpose.

Regina picked up a green glass stone that had fallen into her lap.

And she hadn’t gone voluntarily.

She squeezed her hand around the stone and closed her eyes, began to pray.

“Regina?”

She looked up at the sound of her name, frowning before she remembered that Robin Goodfellow must have heard Doris Ann refer to her as such. She quickly got to her feet. “You’ve learned something?”

“A little. We need to go now.”

“Go? But I can’t leave. What if Miranda comes back? She’d need me to be here.”

“She won’t be coming back.” He signaled for Doris Ann to come with them and led them outside to the street, where a strange coach awaited, a footman holding open the door, the steps down and waiting. “On my honor, such as it is, after a very brief stop at my residence for a change of shirt and cravat, I am taking you directly home, wherever that is. I will accompany you inside and speak with your mother and whomever else you wish me to speak with, telling them whatever story the two of us manage to conjure up on the way. I’ve al
ready worked out the broad strokes, but I will leave it to you to fill in the details.”

“But…but we have to tell them the truth.”

“Only as a last resort and only if you make a botch of the lie. Remember, your father was in attendance tonight. I doubt he’d be best pleased to know his daughter had been here, as well,” he said, handing her up into the coach. “How trustworthy is the maid?”