Lord Rakehell (8 page)

“I really must go.” She pulled on her gloves.

He simply couldn't tolerate her leaving without a plan to see her again. Suddenly an idea came to him, and he leaned forward. “Could I tempt you with a masked ball?”

Her green eyes sparkled. “Perhaps.”

“My sister Jane is holding her annual masquerade ball on November twenty-ninth. In a costume and mask you could be completely incognito.”

“You are speaking of the Countess of Dalkeith?”

“Yes. My sister Jane is married to the Earl of Dalkeith and the ball will be at Montagu House. Are you tempted?” James knew he should not invite this beautiful young courtesan to his sister's ball, but he simply didn't give a damn about what was appropriate at the moment.

“I am tempted beyond belief,” she admitted. Only this morning she had received her invitation to the Dalkeith ball and had planned to attend with James's sister Frances.

“Then it's settled.” He moved around the table to hold her fur while she slipped her arms into the sleeves. “I'll pick you up in my carriage.”

She shook her head. “I prefer to meet you there.”

He breathed in her fragrance and longed to bury his face in the fiery glory of her hair. He had never kept a mistress, preferring instead casual liaisons, but for the first time he realized that with the right female, a long-term exclusive relationship would be extremely rewarding. He watched her walk to the lobby as he settled the bill, but when he left the dining room to retrieve his overcoat, she was nowhere in sight. He hurried out onto the street, but as he feared, the young beauty had made good her escape.

“A
nne, I came to see if you got your invitation to the Dalkeiths' masked ball? I asked my sister Jane to send you one.” Frances Hamilton handed her coat to the maid.

“Yes, thank you, it came in the post days ago. Come upstairs, I was just going through some picture books trying to get ideas for a costume.”

“Riley, our coachman, is picking me up in half an hour to take me to the costume shop. Why don't you come with me?”

“My mother's dressmaker is coming this afternoon, so I think I'll take advantage of her expertise.”

“I have no idea who I want to be. Costume balls are such fun for females. I can't understand why men look panic-stricken at the mere mention of them.”

“Really, Frances? I think there is nothing more dangerous and seductive than a male wearing a mask.”

“John Claud absolutely refuses to attend.
‘A costume turns a man into a buffoon.
A figure of fun for the ladies to laugh at behind their fans,'
he insists
.
”

“Not all men think that way. I warrant your father will gallantly escort Lady Lu.”

“Oh yes, Father's game for a bit of fun. And I insisted Jane send an invitation to Blandford Churchill. How divine it would
be if he wore his Horse Guard uniform.”

“I would like to be someone exotic. I was thinking of Cleopatra.”

“Oh, Anne, you always have such brilliant ideas! I'm the one with dark hair—I would love to be the Egyptian princess.”

“You would make a most alluring Cleopatra, Frances. You need a turquoise robe and a gold mask, and see if the costumier has some snake jewelry.”

“Are you sure you don't mind my stealing your idea, Anne?”

“Of course I don't mind. I'll come up with something else. I will most likely design my own costume. I would ask a favor of you, though. I want to be absolutely incognito at the ball, so even if you recognize me, I want you to pretend you don't know me.”

“Oh, you are planning an intrigue! How exciting. I promise to completely ignore you, if you give me your sacred word to come round the next day and tell me all about it.”

•   •   •

When Madam Olga arrived, she brought Anne's new winter gown for a fitting. “The skirt is finished and hemmed. You must decide on the bodice. I know we spoke of a low décolletage, my lady, but perhaps a square neck would be more suitable for a debutante.”

“I'm so glad I chose white velvet. It is quite elegant.” Anne gave the dressmaker a speculative look. “I'm invited to the Countess of Dalkeith's costume ball, and I would like nothing better than to dress as a Russian princess. This dress would be perfect if you could make it with long sleeves and a high collar that came up to my chin.” Anne took a piece of paper and sketched the design she wanted.

When Madam Olga nodded, Anne began to get excited. “I shall sew crystal beads on the bodice. I'll need a white mask encrusted with crystal beads. Oh, and I just had a marvelous idea to complete the outfit . . . a white fur hat like the Cossacks wear!”

“That would be rather unusual, Lady Anne,” she said faintly.

“Yes, wouldn't it?” Her voice was dreamy as she pictured herself at the ball in the spectacular outfit.

•   •   •

James Hamilton had attended his fair share of London's masked balls over the years, so they had lost their appeal for him long ago. When he started to feel excited about the masquerade at Montagu House, he realized the reason was Lily Lamb. He knew his costume would represent his intentions—not a raptor exactly, but definitely a hunter of some sort.

On the night of the ball, James wore a kilt of Hamilton hunting green tartan. He attached a lace stock to his linen shirt, and donned a black doublet and mask. He selected a silver dagger ornamented with a stag's head. A short hunting cloak completed the outfit.

James arrived early. That way, if the young beauty had any trouble gaining entrance to the elite affair at renowned Montagu House, he would be there to smooth her way.

His sister Jane was far too preoccupied playing hostess to recognize him, and when his parents arrived an hour later, they played along and at least pretended not to know his identity. James cooled his heels as he waited and watched for the beautiful girl who had captured his imagination. He had no desire to go into the ballroom and dance until his chosen partner arrived.

To pass the time he sampled all the delicacies laid out in the supper room and helped himself to a glass of champagne. Then he stationed himself in the opulent entrance hall, amusing himself by guessing the identities of the masked guests as they arrived.

When the front door stopped opening, it occurred to James that his fair Lily might not come. His excitement melted away and was replaced by acute disappointment, yet he could not dispel all hope. Eventually, he joined his brother-in-law William and Dalkeith's father, the Duke of Buccleuch, in the cardroom that Jane had thoughtfully set up, since most men preferred gambling to dancing.

•   •   •

Anne had decided that she would arrive fashionably late at the Dalkeith masquerade ball and it was after ten o'clock when she stepped into her family's coach. It took another half hour for the carriage to make its way from Grosvenor Square to the Pall Mall mansion. Anne thanked her father's driver and asked him to return for her no later than one o'clock.

She ran up the steps and before she could touch the bellpull, the massive front doors were opened by the liveried majordomo who accepted her invitation and hid his surprise that the lady was without an escort. A maid waited to take her upstairs to the dressing room that was being used for the guests' coats and cloaks.

As Anne ascended in the white velvet cloak, she drew stares and low gasps from the guests she encountered. When she removed her cloak in the dressing room to reveal the spectacular white velvet gown encrusted with crystals, a cry of delight escaped the maid.

She bobbed a curtsy to the Russian princess. “Oh, your ladyship, you are a vision.”

Anne smiled her gratitude. “You are very kind.” She had often heard about the grand staircase that led down into the central salon. It was top-lit with a large stained-glass dome, brilliantly illuminated to show off its magnificence, and when a female was descending, it displayed her to perfection.

Anne paused at the top of the grand staircase and gazed out at the crowd below. She saw a tall male wearing the uniform of a Horse Guard and sure enough the female beside him was Cleopatra. She was astounded when she saw them leave together.
That Brass Monkey is having an intrigue of her own!
Anne collected her thoughts, then began to slowly descend with dramatic flair.

•   •   •

James left the cardroom intending to search the crowded ball one last time before giving up and consigning all females to the devil. A vision in white velvet and fur stopped him in his tracks. The top-lit stained-glass dome made the crystals on her gown and mask glitter like diamonds. The sight of her stunned him like a bird flown into a wall. She was easily the most beautiful creature he had ever seen.

Slowly, as if his mind were playing tricks on him, he began to wonder if the exotic Russian princess could actually be the female he had invited to the ball. He stood mesmerized as step by step she descended the staircase until she was standing before him. When he saw her lovely green eyes through the slits of the glittering mask, it confirmed her identity, and when she smiled at him, his heart thudded wildly.

“I'm late,” she murmured. “Have you been waiting long?”

“No, no. I only just arrived.”

“Is that true, my lord?”

“No, it's a bloody lie. I've been waiting hours.”

She began to laugh, and it was so infectious, he laughed with her, thoroughly enjoying himself.

He captured her hand and drew it to his lips. “Would you like to dance?”

“More than anything in the world.”

James tucked her arm beneath his and led her into the crowded ballroom.

•   •   •

When James took Anne into his arms, she closed her eyes, savoring the moment.
I've dreamed about this for years. I can't believe it's finally happening.
Suddenly, she was jarred out of her reverie as another couple bumped into them. She opened her eyes and saw Napoleon partnering a lady in a powdered wig who looked suspiciously like Marie Antoinette. The pair's incongruity touched Anne's funny bone and she began to laugh.

James grinned at her. “You have a sly sense of humor that I fully appreciate.”

Trying to keep a straight face, they started to dance again, but the floor was far too crowded to whirl about with grace. By mutual consent they staked out a corner of the ballroom, where James slipped a possessive arm about his princess so they could sway to the music. From this vantage point they were free to observe all the guests' costumes.

A matador danced by with a moon goddess. “From the ridiculous to the sublime,” Anne whispered.

“With the emphasis on ridiculous,” James countered. When a devil danced by them with a nun in his arms, they had to turn their faces away to hide their amusement.

As a wizard approached, Anne faced James. “If I watch any more, I'll disgrace myself.” She raised her mask and James took his handkerchief and wiped the mirthful tears from her cheeks.

They each took a deep breath and sobered. “We are no better than the rest of them, you know. I'm masquerading as a Russian princess and you're a hunter in a kilt!”

“You are an anomaly—a female who can poke fun at herself.”

She leaned close. “Just to be authentic, I warrant you're naked beneath your kilt.”

James was helpless with laughter. She'd hit the nail on the head. “You're an amazing judge of human nature. Come, I think we're in need of a drink.” Just as he took her hand, a tall highwayman in slouch hat and mask blocked their way.

“Stand and deliver, James. You've monopolized the loveliest lady at the ball long enough.”

“Father!” James was startled. The last thing he wanted was to turn Lily over to his shrewd parent. “We were just going for a drink.”

“You do that, and I'll protect the princess from all the lecherous devils on the prowl tonight.” Abercorn offered his arms and Anne moved into them.

She did a remarkable job of holding her laughter inside at James's predicament. He didn't know who she was, but she suspected that Abercorn had identified her. He had seen her with his daughter Frances too often not to recognize her.

“Are you enjoying yourself, my lady?”

“Immeasurably, Your Grace.”

“I take it Lord Rakehell has no inkling you're a debutante?”

She dissolved into laughter at the name he had given his son. It was the very same one she had thrown at Lord Hamilton at the races. “Oh, please don't spoil my fun by telling him.”

“Your secret is safe with me, my dear.”

James was back with the champagne before their dance was finished. When he saw them laughing together, he experienced a twinge of envy.

The music stopped and James's father, with a comical look of reluctance, relinquished the princess to his heir.

James held the glass to her lips, and she sipped some champagne before she took the crystal flute from him. He raised his own glass in a salute to her beauty, then drained it.

“The supper rooms aren't crowded at the moment, but come midnight we'll be buried in an avalanche of kings, queens, and knaves.”

“Then what are we waiting for?” She took his hand and they left the ballroom.

“At midnight, when everyone makes a mad dash for food, we'll come back and dance our hearts out.”

She smiled into his eyes. “What a romantic suggestion.”

He bent close and whispered, “You'll find I'm full of them.”

As they moved slowly past the long tables laden with delicacies, James watched her in fascination as she selected various things, popped them into her mouth, then rolled her eyes in ecstasy. She dipped a third lump of crab into drawn butter. “You absolutely have to try this. It's divine!”

“How in the name of God do you manage to eat crab, dripping with drawn butter, and not to get a drop on your white velvet?”

“There's a knack to it. I have a darting tongue.”

James inwardly groaned.

They tried some of everything and took great delight feeding each other. He found it amusing that after enjoying macaroons and chocolate bonbons, she relished some black olives and an artichoke heart. “You're eating out of order.”

“I'm often out of order. I love to flaunt the rules.”

“And I'd love to flaunt them with you—all of them!”

“Uh-uh, here comes the avalanche. It must be midnight.”

Hand in hand, they went against the tide of knights, pirates, shepherdesses, and winged fairies, not even bothering to mask their laughter.

As soon as their feet touched the ballroom floor, James swept her into his arms. The orchestra was playing a waltz and because the room was no longer packed, the music filled the space and reverberated around the walls and the high ceiling. The slow, sensual movements of the waltz made her feel desirable. Anne had the sensation that she was drifting in a sea of bliss and she closed her eyes, feeling the lovely, romantic music flow about her. Her pulse began to throb in time to the rhythm of the music. James's powerful arms tightened about her and she felt him draw her closer to his body. She pictured his dark, compelling image on the inside of her eyelids and was intoxicated by his nearness. As he bent his head toward her, she shuddered with desire and opened her lips in invitation. When his mouth touched her, her eyelashes fluttered and she whispered his name with longing. “James.”

“I love the taste of my name on your lips,” he murmured, then swept her into the next dance.