“The
depth of emotions, the light of the redeeming power of love and the intrigue
and suspense make this third installment Barnes’ strongest tale to date.” –RT Book Reviews
Thorncliff
Manor is the perfect setting for a masquerade ball . . . where the heart’s
secret desires are about to be uncovered in this scintillating Regency romance
from Sophie Barnes
Richard Heartly
has exiled himself from society since the war, plotting his revenge for a
terrible betrayal. A masked ball at Thorncliff Manor is intended to be a brief
diversion. Instead, he encounters a fascinating young woman as entranced by the
music as he is. He can’t reveal his identity to Lady Mary. But her siren song keeps
drawing him back, and their clandestine meetings could be hazardous to his
plan—and to her virtue . . .
Avoiding an
unwanted marriage was easy when Lady Mary was ignored by the ton. Thanks to her
dazzling appearance at the masquerade, she’s a wallflower no longer. Eligible
suitors abound, yet the only man she wants is the brooding, seductive companion
who keeps his face hidden. A man who tempts her to disclose her own shocking
secret, one that could divide them forever . . .
Forcing back all thought of potentially kissing his way down the side
of her neck and over the smooth skin of her shoulder, Richard struggled to gain
control. “Perhaps it is the atmosphere,” he suggested. “Masquerades do have a
tendency to encourage more carefree behavior.”
“I suppose it must be because of the anonymity. Hidden behind masks,
people have the opportunity to do things they would not otherwise dare to
consider.”
“Such as?”
She pursed her lips, which made her look adorably cheeky. “A shy
gentleman might suddenly feel emboldened, allowing him the courage he needs to ask
a lady to dance.”
“I hope you are not suggesting that I might be shy, for I can assure
you that I am anything but.” Not entirely true, though he preferred
apprehensive.
“And yet I have no clue about your identity. In truth, you could be
anyone, perhaps even a groomsman who happened to chance upon some quality
clothing.”
“I see your point. But if I were a groomsman, would I be as well-read as
you know me to be?” Emboldened by their light repartee, the magical touch that
the evening provided, and the reminder that nobody knew who he was, Richard
moved his hands to her waist and lifted her right off the ground. He heard her
suck in her breath while several onlookers gasped in confounded shock. Heedless
of it all, he proceeded to swing Lady Eleanor around while spinning in a wide
circle.
“That was far too daring,” she chastised as soon as he set her back on
her feet and resumed their previous pace.
“Tell me you did not enjoy every second of it.”
Setting her mouth in a firm line, she looked away from him. “Everyone
is watching,” she eventually said, not answering his question. “My aunt does
not look the least bit pleased.”
“Then it is fortunate that I care more about your opinion than I do
about your aunt’s.”
The corner of her mouth twitched. “You are intolerable. What if you
had dropped me?”
“A gentleman never drops a lady.” Twirling her around, he led her
between two other couples.
“Perhaps not, but then again, we have not yet established that you are
in fact a gentleman. For all I know, you could be a scoundrel.”
“I can assure you that I am no such thing.” Dipping his head, he
whispered close to her ear. “In time, you will learn that I value honesty and
dependability. That I consider a man’s honor to be paramount to his character.
So I would be much obliged if you would refrain from suggesting otherwise, even
if you only meant to do so in jest.
Briefly closing her eyes, she gave a little nod. “Forgive me,” she
whispered, regret marring her features. “I did not mean to insult you in any
way.
“I know.” The music gradually faded and their movements slowed until
they came to a gliding halt. Stepping back, Richard offered Lady Eleanor a bow
while she curtseyed in return. He didn’t like the tonehe’d just taken with her,
but it was too late for that now. “Will you join me for a walk in the garden?”
he asked, stiffly offering her his arm. He was suddenly desperate to smooth
away the tight expression that he’d caused.
“As lovely as that sounds, I am not so sure that it is going to be
possible,” she said, her eyes fixed on a spot directly behind his left
shoulder.
Turning,
Richard winced as he spotted an older woman bearing down on him with Lady
Duncaster in pursuit. “Your aunt, I presume?”
“Yes. With Mama and Papa abroad, I am presently under her protection.”
She looked up at him with calmness in her eyes. “No need to worry. She is not
as fierce as she looks. Just be polite.”
Squaring his shoulders, Richard stood his groundas Lady Eleanor’s aunt
came to a halt before him. She was a slim woman with delicate features,
possessing a chin that was sharper than most. Her dark brown hair was streaked
with random lines of silver, and in front of her eyes, she held a lorgnette
surrounded by a vast array of colorful feathers.
“Signor Antonio,” Lady Duncaster said, coming up alongside her, “May I
present my dear friend, Lady Foxworth?”
“It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Countess.” Reaching for
her tiny hand, Richard bowed over it while hoping that his gallantry would win
him her favor.
“Thank you,” she said as she peered up at him from behind her
lorgnette. “You clearly have me at a disadvantage. Will you please tell me who
you are? I should also like to know why you presumed to have the right to dance
with my niece in such a scandalous manner.”
Every muscle in Richard’s body grew taught. Was it just his
imagination, or was his cravat more restrictive now than it had been earlier?
With rigidity, he met Lady Foxworth’s assessing gaze. “I must apologize for
allowing myself to get carried away during the dance. It was not my intention
to offend anyone. As to my name . . . I am afraid that Signor Antonio will have
to suffice.”
Lady Foxworth pressed her lips together in a firm line of disapproval.
Beside him, Richard sensed Lady Eleanor’s surprise. Like her aunt, she’d
probably expected him to reveal himself when asked to do so.
“Unfortunately that is not good enough,” Lady Foxworth said. “Not when
I am responsible for my niece’s reputation.”
“I can vouch for his character,” Lady Duncaster said with a hasty look
in Richard’s direction. “Signor Antonio comes from a very respectable family—a
family with whom an association would be a coup.”
Raising her chin a notch, Lady Foxworth was silent for a moment and
Richard realized that he was holding his breath in anticipation of what she
might say next. “I have always trusted your judgment,”
Lady Foxworth eventually told Lady Duncaster, “but I am afraid that my
conscience will not allow me to do so in this instance. Unless I am made aware
of Signor Antonio’s exact identity, then I am afraid that I cannot allow him to
continue socializing with my niece.”
Closing his eyes on the finality of her words, Richard expelled the
breath he’d been holding. Silently, he cursed the fear that kept him from
living and the hatred that fueled his vendetta. Because in spite of what Lady
Eleanor had told him—that she had no desire to marry—the way in which she
responded to him suggested that he might be able to change her mind if he was
allowed the chance to do so.
“What if he confides in me?” Lady Eleanor asked, cultivating this
idea.
Lady Foxworth regarded him shrewdly. “I do not believe that he is
prepared to do so. Are you, Signor?”
Heart hammering in his chest, Richard forced himself not to look at
Lady Eleanor. He didn’t want to see the hope brimming in her eyes or the
disappointment that would take its place when he said what had to be said. “Not
yet.”
As soon as the words were out, he felt as though a cavern had been
carved into the ground, separating him from the woman who stood by his side.
Tonight, for the first time in years, he’d felt a sliver of hope that the happy
future he’d always dreamed of might one day be his—if he could only win Lady
Eleanor’s affection. Unwilling to give up completely, he said, “Perhaps in
time—”
“No,” Lady Foxworth said, her hand slicing the air between them. “You
have every right to keep your secrets, Signor, but until I am made aware of
what they are and have been reassured that they pose no threat to my niece’s
reputation or happiness, then you will stay away from her. Is that clear?”
The ultimatum was not to Richard’s liking even though he understood
Lady Foxworth’s reasoning completely. Had he been in her shoes, he would have
made the same demand. “Yes.” He spoke the word with difficulty.
Lady Foxworth finally allowed a faint smile. “Thank you. I appreciate
your understanding.”
Clenching his jaw, Richard nodded. “If you will excuse me,” he said
with a curt bow directed at Lady Foxworth and Lady Duncaster. Turning toward
Lady Eleanor, his heart ached at the sight of her pained expression. “It has
been a pleasure.”
She gave him a bleak little nod, but said nothing in response. Turning
his back on her, Richard walked away without a backward glance, his pace brisk
as he strode toward the French doors leading into the house. Rushing through
the well-lit hallway, he marched toward the stairs, climbing them quickly in his
haste to return to his bedchamber and the darkness that beckoned within.
Born in Denmark,
Sophie Barnes spent her youth traveling with her parents to wonderful places
all around the world. She's lived in five different countries, on three
different continents, and speaks Danish, English, French, Spanish, and
Romanian. But, most impressive of all, she's been married to the same man three
times—in three different countries and in three different dresses.
When she's not busy dreaming up her next romance novel, Sophie enjoys spending time with her family, swimming,cooking,gardening,watching romantic comedies and, of course, reading.
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