Page 4 of Always the Bridesmaid, Never the Duchess
At Devonport, Andrew allowed his valet William, to adjust his cravat. It was a midnight blue that matched his eyes and a gift from his grandmother.
“Your Grace, this new coat fits quite well. The tailor did an excellent job.” James said, brushing Andrew’s shoulders with a horsehair brush.
Andrew turned and admired the cut of the coat. “He did, indeed. Were you able to secure a mask for me at such late notice? I hadn’t planned to attend this evening’s ball, but an opportunity presented itself that I couldn’t resist.”
James raised a brow at his employer’s words. He knew that Andrew enjoyed the company of his mistresses, but never spent more than a few months with a lady before discarding her when she made demands for a greater commitment. “I did. It is on your dressing table. Shall I fetch it?”
Andrew shook his head. “No, thank you. I’ll don it before I step into the carriage. It should prove to be a most enjoyable evening. That will be all, James.”
“Very well, Your Grace.” James gave a slight bow and left the bedchamber.
Andrew pulled the note from Kate Avery from his coat pocket. He had read it several times throughout the day as if to ensure that such boldness had been written on the paper. It intrigued him that a woman he had so often dismissed could hold such passion within her as to invite a rake to share her bed. Had he misjudged her? Andrew had spoken to her but a few times throughout the years, but he knew her brother Nicholas quite well, and in fact, they had been friends until the scandal.
He closed his eyes and brought forth Kate’s image. She was a petite woman with a comely figure. Although it was fashionable to be as thin as a street waif, Andrew preferred his women to possess curves upon which he could hold them close. Her face was pleasing, if not a ravishing beauty, with intelligent hazel eyes and a healthy complexion. From his peers, he understood that she was quite outspoken with her opinions which diminished their attraction to her. He, himself, enjoyed a woman with a mind to match his own but had yet to find one who could.
He grabbed his mask from his dressing table. As he slipped it on, he wondered how Kate Avery would respond to his touch. Would she shy away, or would she welcome it? Had she done this before? He was determined to discover the answer.
At Fincastle, Kate alighted from her carriage. Her insides quivered in anticipation of the evening’s masquerade ball. Would the rake be amongst the guests or was he already waiting for her? She could not contain her excitement.
As she walked up the steps, another carriage arrived. She glanced behind her and saw the crest of the Duke of Devonport upon the carriage door. Kate turned away and lifted her nose. She tamped down her anger at the man responsible for her brother’s broken engagement. She wouldn’t allow his presence to destroy her evening.
Lifting her skirt slightly, she walked up the stone steps without a backward glance.
In the carriage, Andrew watched as Kate stepped out of her carriage and walked from the darkness of the drive up the stone steps toward the light of the open door to the manor. The lanterns on each step guided her toward the entrance. He had to admit he felt a small stir of excitement at the prospect of spending the evening in her company. He felt no dismay at deceiving her. It was far better for him to attend to her than let a rake such as Lord Radford do so. He smiled and lowered his mask before stepping from his carriage.
Chapter Three
Kate surveyed the room. Lady Catherine had prepared a fabulous masquerade ball for her guests. The orchestra played a lively tune and the masked dancers whirled by in a blur of bright silks. Julia’s Aunt Mary, the older spinster aunt of her mother, was their chaperone for the evening. Aunt Mary had nodded off twenty minutes ago as Julia had predicted.
“I see that the Viscount of Marlborough is in attendance,” Kate said in a low voice. At one time, she had been introduced to him by the Dowager Viscountess in hopes that he would prove to be a suitable marriage partner. Although he had an unfortunate resemblance to a white rabbit, Kate enjoyed conversations with him as they discussed books and current events, which is why it came as quite a surprise that he had declared his intentions to marry Miss Penelope Goodhope.
“You mustn’t pay him any mind, Kate,” Julia said. “I am sure that in time, his conversations would have grown tedious. He strikes me as a man with few passions.”
Kate acknowledged the truth of Julia’s words, but still felt forlorn at her lack of partners. There had already been three dances since the start of the ball at nine o’clock, yet no eligible gentlemen had even glanced her way. She lowered her mask, an elaborate affair of feathers dyed a startling shade of blue to complement her ball gown. She looked down at her dress. It was the latest fashion with a gathered bodice and ornate trim of blue against the ivory silk.
“Julia, I am much too nervous. This evening was a mistake. Perhaps it is better if I go home.” Kate stood and looked for an avenue to escape.
Julia grabbed her friend’s hand and tugged her back next to her. She lowered her voice. “You have nothing to fear, Kate. I promise that a man’s touch is nothing to be afraid of and is quite pleasurable. If you leave, you might never know the touch of a man. I know you have declared to everyone that you plan to remain a spinster, but that does not mean you can’t enjoy one night of happiness.”
“What if I am discovered? My family’s honor would be sullied forever. My brother will not be able to stand-” Kate’s voice rose with her distress.
“Shush. You are my best friend. I promise you that no one will discover you. Aunt Mary will sleep through until it is time for breakfast at which time you will have long since returned.” Julia glanced at her aunt who let out a small snore. She turned to Kate. “Come. It’s almost midnight.”
Her stomach fluttered as she followed Julia through the dancers and into the hallway. She glanced about to make sure no one had noticed their hurried exit from the dance.
Julia pulled open a door and they were in the east wing of the castle. “We are in the wing no longer in use except for guests. The rake shall meet you in the Lilac Room. It will be quite secret, so you need not be concerned.”
Kate felt the knot of fear start to loosen. “If you’re quite sure I won’t be discovered.”
“I promise. Now, hurry. It’s almost time.” Julia grabbed Kate’s hand and hurried her down the passageway. She stopped in front of a door and opened it. “Remember what I said about leaving by two. Don’t be late.”
Kate stepped inside the bedchamber. The door shut behind her. She whirled ready to run from the room, but then stopped. This was the chance she’d waited for. She’d read of romance, of course, so she knew the premise if not the practice. She could do this.
She settled herself on the chaise lounge at the end of the room. She arranged herself so that her skirt lifted ever so slightly revealing a bit of her ankle. As she did, she felt silly and shifted again. How does one sit to show one’s figure off to an advantage? She leaned forward. No. That was terribly uncomfortable, and she was sure it made her face appear sour. In the end, she sat as she would normally with her ankles crossed and her hands in her lap.
Kate heard a hand on the doorknob and her heart fluttered in her chest.He is here!
The door opened, and a tall man with raven black hair that curled deliciously down across his brow and mask strode into the bedchamber. Kate leaped up. “Good evening.”
