Falling for the Marquess - Julianne MacLean Page 0,13
there.”
“I just want both of us to keep our minds open.” A thrilling ripple of anticipation shimmied up Clara’s spine. “So, will you come with me?”
Her sister hesitated, then went to her desk to sort through the invitations. “The Cakras Balls don’t happen regularly. Sometimes I don’t receive an invitation for months on end.”
She continued to flip through, then stopped and stared at Clara. Excitement fluttered in the air as she handed her a card.
“Or sometimes, they come exactly when you want them to.”
Chapter 4
Dear Clara,
Please be careful. Do not forget what happened two years ago. You craved excitement and you wanted to break free of society’s strictures, and you came very close to complete ruination. Remember that where young women like us are concerned, society’s strictures exist for our protection....
Love,
Adele
“If Mother could see us now, she’d turn blue.” Sophia glanced out the dark window of the carriage as Livingston House came into view, then arranged the rhinestone-and-feather mask on her face. “I don’t know what James will think when I tell him where we went tonight. I hope he won’t be angry.”
“You can blame it on me,” Clara replied. “Besides, it’s not as if you’re sneaking out behind his back. In fact, we would have brought him with us if he hadn’t gone to Yorkshire.”
“I suppose. At any rate, I’ll explain everything when he returns and hope for the best. We’re here. Are you sure you want to do this?”
Clara fought to suppress nervous butterflies as she, too, arranged her mask. She was about to take an enormous risk by sneaking into a Cakras Ball, but she might also see her handsome paramour again.
Anticipation rippled up her spine. “Yes, I am sure.”
Sophia faced her squarely. “All right then. Here are the rules. And as your chaperone, I will allow you to dance with him, but under no circumstances should you be alone with him. This is a dangerous place, Clara, and if he’s not to be trusted—”
“Don’t worry, I won’t do anything foolish. But I don’t want to presume that he’s not to be trusted. He didn’t ravish me the last time.”
“That was last time. What if sees you here, after you’d already been warned, and presumes you’re looking for a dalliance? He might think you’re fast.”
The carriage stopped in front of the brightly lit mansion. “I’m not fast. I am morally upright, in perfect control of my impulses.”
Sophia gave her a look. “Then what, pray tell, are we doing here?”
Clara had no choice but to surrender to her sister’s shrewd observation. “I’ve missed you,” she said.
“I’ve missed you, too. And despite my misgivings, I’m pleased that I can help you tonight because I understand how you feel. It was the same when I met James. I could barely get through the day, wanting him the way I did.” She squeezed Clara’s hand. “Who knows, maybe this man is your destiny. What a hopeless romantic I am.”
“Or maybe I’ll discover that he’s the worst rogue in the world and he’s here tonight cheating on his wife, after losing half his fortune playing cards, and on top of that, when he sleeps, he snores like a buffalo.”
They shared an affectionate smile, then Sophia pulled on her long gloves. “With any luck, we’ll find out soon enough—at least about the first two things.”
The carriage door opened, and the ladies stepped out. Clara looked up at the front of the mansion where the same burly man as last time stood in front of the door.
Sophia straightened her mantle. “You’re absolutely positive?”
“Yes,” Clara replied. “Let’s get this over with.”
They picked up their skirts and walked up the steps. Sophia presented their invitation. The next thing they knew, they were inside, standing on the shiny black-and-white checkered floor in the wide hall, handing their mantles over to the masked butler while the music of flutes and violins flitted to their ears from the ballroom.
“Does Lord Livingston ever greet his guests?” Clara asked as they ascended the stairs to the drawing room.
“No, there are never any introductions. Both Lord and Lady Livingston follow the same rules as everyone else. They mingle and dance with whomever they please, but no names are ever spoken.”
“You mean to say they carry on affairs under each other’s noses, and they’re happy with that?”
“Apparently.”
Clara considered such an arrangement. If she married an Englishman who was later unfaithful, could she turn a blind eye? She had been brought up with a different ideal, as all American girls were, with a Puritan