Page 87 of Affair

“Neither can I,” Baxter admitted. “But it is a place to start. I shall enlist my aunt’s assistance. We require an invitation that will get us inside the Lennox mansion as soon as possible.”

“That should not be difficult,” Charlotte said. “Ariel tells me that Norris’s eldest sister is giving a masquerade ball at the family home in two days’ time.”

Fourteen

Charlotte watched proudly as Ariel, costumed as a water sprite, was led out onto the dance floor by another in a long string of partners.

“Isn’t she spectacular?” Charlotte smiled fondly as she watched the dancers whirl beneath the jeweled lights of the colored lanterns that had replaced the chandeliers for the evening. “I vow, she has danced every dance since we arrived.”

“She’s just a blur to me,” Baxter said gruffly. “Especially in this dim light. Not wearing my spectacles, remember? They’re in the pocket of this damned domino cape.”

“Oh, yes, I forgot. You can hardly wear your spectacles with your mask, can you?” She glanced at him and felt a curious dread that had nothing to do with their plans for the evening.

The long, black, hooded cape and half mask of Baxter’s austere domino was indistinguishable from several other similar costumes in the crowd. She knew he had chosen the black domino because he thought that it would make him virtually anonymous in the thronged ballroom and he had been correct.

But she feared that the unrelieved darkness of the flowing cape and mask suited Baxter all too well. She had a sudden vision of Baxter disappearing forever into a dark cavern with his alchemical fire and crucible.

In a moment of whimsy, she had chosen to attend the masquerade as Diana the Huntress. As she had explained to Ariel, the costume seemed appropriate for a lady who was hunting a murderer.

“I detest masquerade balls,” Baxter grumbled. “Grown people running about in masks and costumes. Utter nonsense.”

“You must admit, this particular ball will be quite useful to us.”

“Indeed. I shall rely on you to tell me when Ariel takes the floor with young Norris,” Baxter said.

“She advised me a few minutes ago that she has made certain that Norris would have the next dance.”

The plans had been formulated that afternoon. It was Ariel who had suggested that she could provide an extra measure of insurance for Baxter. She had pointed out that it would be simple enough to make certain that Norris was occupied for at least some of the time Baxter needed to locate and search his bedchamber.

“We appear to have a few minutes to wait.” Baxter abruptly set his champagne glass down on a nearby tray. “May as well spend them on the dance floor.”

Charlotte blinked. “Are you asking me to dance, Baxter?”

“Why not? Supposed to be engaged, aren’t we? Engaged people do that sort of thing. I assume you can manage a waltz with that silly bow and arrow you’ve got dangling from your wrist.”

“They’re part of my costume. And, yes, I think I can manage the waltz.” She raised her brows behind her feathery mask. “I did not realize that you danced, sir.”

“It’s been some time. Several years, in fact.” He took her hand without waiting for a formal acceptance of his offer. “Expect it’s rather like riding a horse. Doubt that one forgets how to do the thing.”

She hid a smile as she allowed him to lead her toward the dance floor. “Let’s hope that is the case, because other than that gallop around the floor with Lennox the other evening, I have not had any practice in an age.”

He stopped at the edge of the crowd and took her into his arms. “We won’t try anything fancy.”

She chuckled. “We shall likely resemble a pair of rusty barges sloshing about on a lake filled with sleek sailing yachts.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Behind the openings in his black mask, Baxter’s eyes were intense. “You are the most graceful barge in the room.”

The awkward compliment should have amused her but instead warmed her to her soul. “Thank you, sir. That is the most charming thing anyone has said to me in a long while.”

Without another word, he tightened his arms around her and swept her out among the brilliant sails.

Just as she had anticipated, Baxter’s dancing was all power and control. But there was an underlying sensuality in his movements that reminded her of the way he made love. She gave herself up to the moment. There would not be many such, she reminded herself. She must seize each one that came along, drain it of its memories, and store them up against the possibility of a long, lonely future.

As the strains of the waltz swelled around her, Charlotte briefly forgot the reason she was there with Baxter in the first place. She only knew that she was in the arms of her lover, the man whose face she would see in her dreams for the rest of her life.

The jeweled lanterns created a spangled pattern of lights on the dancers. The ballroom was transformed into a shadowy faerie land populated by costumed legends and masked myths. Gods and goddesses from ancient Greece mingled with the old deities of Rome and Egypt and Zamar. Highwaymen and pirates conversed with queens and elves. And on the surface of the bejeweled lake that was the dance floor, Diana the Huntress whirled in the arms of an alchemist.

When the music ended at last, Charlotte felt an inexplicable urge to burst into tears. Her affair with Baxter might not last any longer than this perfect dance, she thought. A moment out of time that she would cherish forever.

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