Behind the Mask (House of Lords) (45 page)

He reached inside his coat and withdrew a slim black mask. “A spy,” he said, grinning as he tied the mask behind his head. Then he dropped his lips to hers, one hand sliding along the bare skin of her arm. She felt a thrill course through her, though she reminded herself of her resolve. She had made her choice, and she would not allow the passion she felt now to sway her. Still, they could have this one night together. So she kissed him back, molding herself against him until she felt the heat of his body through the thin fabric of her gown.

“We will be missed downstairs,” he said against her lips.

She sighed. “Yes, I suppose we will.” Eleanor broke away from him and went to the looking glass to inspect her coiffure. When she turned back she looked him up and down. He did look ravishingly handsome, she thought as he held his arm out for her.

“Viscount Palmerston agreed to send Udad to Brussels with us,” he said.

With us
. She could not do it. She could not lie to him another evening. “Colin, I’m so glad to hear that. But I have to tell you something.”

“What is it?” he asked, frowning.

“I’m not going to Brussels,” she said softly.

Colin’s eyes were very wide. “What?”

“I said—”

“I heard what you said, I just didn’t understand it. What on earth do you mean, not going?”

“I’m not going. I want to stay in London.”

For a moment Colin could do no more than stare at his wife. At last he managed to say, “I’m afraid you don’t have a choice in the matter,” he said. “My work is in Brussels.”

“And mine is in London. I am needed there, to help with the school.”

He went to her, taking her hand. “Eleanor, you are my wife.”

“I know that,” she snapped. “But we both know that a wife will be an inconvenience for you in Brussels. It will be better for both of us if I stay in London.”

“What will people say?”

She shrugged. “There are many husbands who leave their wives at home when they go abroad.”

“I did not think you wanted to be one of those wives,” he said.

She looked away. “Neither did I,” she said. “But here we are.”

“What do you expect me to do? I won’t give up my work.”

She shook her head and pulled her hand from his. “I don’t expect you to,” she said, dropping into a chair. “I would never ask you to do that. I know how much it means to you. But the school means just as much to me. For days I’ve been trying to think of another way, but there is none.”

“But Eleanor, you must—”

“Don’t lecture me about my duty,” she said, spitting the word out as she leaped from the chair and began to pace. “All my life I’ve done my duty. I’ve spent the last five years atoning for my sins by being the very image of a dutiful daughter and sister. Just this once, I want to do what
I
want, not what someone else expects of me.”

“That’s not what I meant,” he insisted. “I need you in Brussels. I need you by my side.”

“Why?” she demanded. “Do you love me, Colin? Is that it?” When he said nothing, she turned away. He longed to go to her, to wrap his arms around her and comfort her, but he stayed where he was. At last, she turned back, wiping a tear from her cheek. “Say that you love me, and I will follow you to the ends of the earth. I can’t help myself. I’m a fool for love,” she said bitterly, and he knew that it was true. Every wrong step she had ever made in her life she had made for love. He could not lead her away from all her hopes and dreams for a false promise, and he could not tell her that he loved her, not when he was not certain. As the silence grew between them, his heart ached with the longing to say the words she wanted to hear. But he could not be sure they were true, and he could not lie to her. “You can’t do it, can you?”

He shook his head sadly.

Feeling like a prize idiot, Eleanor took another step away from her husband, feeling the distance between them as though it were an ocean.

A pained expression came over his face. “Eleanor, I—”

“No,” she said. “Don’t say anything else. You’ll only regret it later.”

“I’m just surprised, that’s all,” he said, and he appeared genuinely shocked. Eleanor had fooled him, then, just as she had the rest of them.

“I suppose behind the masks we wear we are all quite different from what we seem,” she said, thinking of Mr. Udad and Mr. Strathmore, but also of herself. How long had she worn the mask of the dutiful daughter? And now she would take that disguise off, never to wear it again.

“So,” he said, leaning against the bedpost, “what happens next?”

She shrugged. “We go downstairs. We dance, we smile. Tomorrow morning we will go to London, and then you will go to Brussels with Mr. Udad. I daresay we will both acclimate quickly to our separate ways. We have barely had time to become acquainted, after all.”

“That’s true,” he said. “Well, then.” And he held out his arm for her again, and she took it, though it felt like it was made of stone. Eleanor felt like weeping, though she could not explain why. She had taken what she wanted. She had triumphed.

But for tonight, at least, she would continue to hide behind her disguise. Colin led her down the stairs, his posture rigid and correct, the handsome new husband showing off his lovely bride. She smiled happily at their guests and held Colin’s hand tightly as he led her into the first set. She waltzed with him twice. Even though he refused to meet her eyes she still felt the thrill down to her toes when his fingers grazed her bare skin. She would forget, she told herself. In time, the pleasure she had felt in his arms would be nothing but a distant memory, superseded by the joy she would find in her work, in her true purpose. And that, she told herself finally, would
have
to be enough.

Though Colin had been much in demand throughout the evening, he somehow managed to avoid being wrangled into asking any of the young ladies for their hand for the set after supper. Instead, feeling rather outnumbered by strangers, he sought out his parents. His father had disappeared into the drawing room with Pennethorne and some of the older gentlemen, but his mother was seated at the side of the dance floor.

“Darling,” she said as he drew near. She held out her hand elegantly, and he took it. She was not wearing a costume, of course, but she looked just as handsome as usual in her deep purple evening gown. “I feel as though I’ve hardly seen you the last two days.”

“I am sorry, mother,” he said, taking a seat beside her. “It has been a busy week.”

“So it has,” she said. “But I have a feeling you will be glad of it in the future. She is a delight, Colin.” He did not have to ask whom she meant. He could not see his wife out on the dance floor, but he was sure she was somewhere nearby, laughing with her neighbors and pretending that she had not just driven a stake through their marriage. “We had a lovely chat yesterday.”

“Oh?”

His mother nodded. “She told me about that sweet little school in London. What a delightful cause. It’s a shame she must leave her work there. I admire a woman with purpose.”

Colin’s heart sank. “Did you tell her so?” he asked, trying to keep his voice neutral.

“Of course. Perhaps someday she will persuade you to return to London. Your father and I would
so
love to see more of you,” she said, and there was no mistaking her meaning. Lady Townsley believed she had expertly laid the groundwork for her new daughter-in-law to draw her son back to what his mother felt was his duty. She sounded quite proud of herself, Colin thought. But his feelings about his mother had never been more conflicted. He was able to recognize that she loved him, that she wanted him to come home, to be close to his family again, but the underhanded way in which she had set this trap for Eleanor disgusted him.

“Whatever is the matter, dear?” his mother asked, her voice dripping with innocence. “You look quite peaked.”

He stood. “If you’ll excuse me, mother, I believe I’ll go and claim my bride for a dance.”

“Of course, dear,” she said, smiling charmingly. Colin stalked off without another word.

After sitting through a tense supper, she managed to escape for a few moments onto the terrace. The air had become unbearably close in the ballroom, and she went down the stairs into the garden, allowing the cool night breeze to wash over her, reveling in the relief of being free from the throng and from his wounded stare.

She went a little deeper into the garden, away from the light spilling from the ballroom windows, into the quiet darkness where everything glowed beneath the hazy summer moon. Eleanor took a few deep breaths and tried to remind herself that she had made the right choice. He would have tired of her in Brussels, after all. He was used to being free, and she would have proved an encumbrance. She was doing them both a favor. If only she did not love him quite so much, perhaps it would hurt a little less.

This is what you wanted
, she told herself as she neared the grove between the stables and the garden.
You wanted to be free, to fling off the snares of your duty and fly.
Perhaps it would be painful, but she had made her choice. Now she just needed a few moments of solitude and peace to come to terms with it.

But it was not to be. Amongst the trees behind her a branch cracked beneath a boot. Eleanor whirled just in time to see a black shape emerge out of the darkness into the moonlit garden. She cast a desperate glance back at the brightly lit ballroom windows as a man appeared, shrouded in black with a dark blue headscarf covering the lower part of his face. For a moment she considered crying out, but then the moonlight glinted off the wickedly curved saber in his hand as he brought the blade up, pointing its tip at her and stepping closer, until she could feel the cold radiating off the metal against her skin.

“The princess,” the man said, his accent thicker than Udad’s. “Where?”

Eleanor shook her head, too frightened to speak. Her eyes flicked around the empty gardens, but she saw only the faces of her mother and sisters and brother, and, most of all, Colin. Would she die here and never see any of them again? Terror gripped her, and she felt her hands begin to tremble.

“You bring the princess,” the man insisted.

“I cannot,” Eleanor said. “Please—”

“You bring,” the man repeated, “or you die.”

Suddenly, a voice cried out in a tongue Eleanor did not recognize. At the edge of the stableyard she saw another dark figure. Udad. The assassin turned, and as he did Eleanor reached down and drew her grandfather’s silver dagger, which he had not seen hidden in the folds of her gown. Just as Udad started limping across the lawn towards them and the assassin began to turn back, Eleanor brought the dagger up, feeling the give as the blade sank into his flesh and passed between his ribs.

The assassin made a small sound of surprise, and his saber sliced the skin of her forearm as it fell, still in his hand. He crumpled to the ground, her dagger still buried in his chest, a thin line of blood trickling from his lips. Just as she felt the first twinge of pain in her wounded arm, Udad reached them, his hands coming up to support her as her knees weakened beneath her. As she swayed she looked down into the man’s empty eyes, and she bit back a scream.

“Eleanor!” Leo’s voice called from the terrace. She looked up to see her brother rushing down the stairs toward her. He reached out as he neared them, bending down to scoop her up in his arms. “We must get her inside,” he said to Udad.

“I can walk, Leo,” Eleanor said, struggling a little in his arms.

“Try it, then,” he said, setting her down for a moment. When her legs wobbled and she clung to his evening coat, smearing blood across his white shirt and waistcoat, he said, “May I carry you now?”