A Masquerade in the Moonlight - By Kasey Michaels Page 0,106
weak heart—and with good reason.”
Laleham released her hands only to draw her against his chest, her head pressed into his shoulder. “Dear, sweet child! Of course, I knew. But you were never to be told. What good would it do? What harm could it deal you to hear such terrible truths? You’re an innocent, my dear—an innocent! Your mind shouldn’t be cluttered with terrible visions.”
An innocent? Now Marguerite knew the man was mad. She hadn’t been innocent in the ways of man since last spring, when her mother had collapsed in Laleham’s maze, died in Laleham’s own country house. Surely he had to know that! Now, since last night, she was no longer an innocent in the ways of love. She was in the process of bringing five men to their knees for their part in her parents’ deaths. If she were any less innocent she would have already sprouted horns and a pointed tail.
She carefully disengaged herself from Laleham’s embrace —an embrace that didn’t feel the least avuncular, especially in sight of his prattlings about a “dynasty.” Averting her eyes, for she could no longer look at him without wondering yet again, Is he the one? Is he the one who was in the maze with Mama? she said, “I believe I should like to be returned to Mrs. Billings now, William. I suddenly feel the need to sit and reflect upon all we have said here tonight.”
“I agree,” he answered quickly, as if he too needed to think, then took her arm and led her back into the brightly lit room. “I did not mean to shock you, my dear child. But I have been watching you all these years, watching and feeling proud as you grew into a beautiful young woman. Slowly, over this past year, it dawned on me that our little Marguerite was ready for marriage. Even you must notice that you seem to seek the company of mature men. No one like that clod, Donovan! Our lands already march together, and Sir Gilbert would want for nothing all the remaining days of his life. But I would never frighten you, my dear. There is time for you to consider what I’ve said. Truly. I am nothing if not patient.”
“Thank you, William. I am grateful, truly I am.” Then another thought struck her. “You—you aren’t planning to speak to Sir Gilbert about Mr. Donovan or—or anything else, are you, William?”
“There will be no need for that,” he answered shortly, and she looked up at him, startled at his arrogance, to see him glaring at something across the room. Without turning her head she sensed that Donovan had arrived. “Come, my dear,” he commanded, “and I’ll return you to your chaperone. I would stay and listen to the program with you, enduring the pain with you, but I have just now recalled an invitation elsewhere I cannot shirk. The Season is so full of entertainments. You will forgive me, won’t you?”
Forgive him? She’d consider searching out a trumpet to send him on his way, if only he’d go now and not confront Donovan, who was looking particularly handsome this evening—and particularly angry. “Of course, William. Perhaps I will see you again at Lady Brill’s masquerade on Friday? Grandfather has given me permission—reluctantly —and it should be great fun. I have never before attended a masquerade.”
The earl halted in front of Mrs. Billings and bowed over Marguerite’s hand after she was seated in the uncomfortable, straight-back chair. “Masquerades are fast becoming frowned on, but if you are going to be there, Miss Balfour, I would not miss it for the world. I will not even ask you to disclose your costume to me, for I feel sure I would know you anywhere,” he said, then withdrew before he could see her wipe the back of her hand against her silk skirts, attempting to banish the memory of his touch.
“I fear, Miss Balfour,” Mrs. Billings announced a moment later with great formality, “that I have no choice but to tender my resignation as of the conclusion of this evening. I have failed you, as his lordship so rightly pointed out, and failed myself. I should have shown more backbone, but I have always been a timid sort. A woman with no jointure, no income, needs must be as her employer wishes her to be. You have wished me to be a mere shadow, with no voice, no opinion, and no weight. I have done so, much to my