Page 50 of Beneath the Devil's Mask
Anne pressed her hands to her face. A duel? She remembered being disquieted by the look in Mandell’s eye that night he had left her, but she had never dreamed he would have been willing to take things that far,
No matter how good a shot Mandell was, the possibility still existed that he could have been wounded or killed. Barring that, dueling was illegal. Despite his powerful connections, he could have been arrested or forced to flee the country. Did the man consider such a risk worth it merely to have Anne in his bed?
“Mandell has ever been such a discreet devil, so cold-blooded,” Lily said. “Whatever could have inspired him to such an extraordinary gesture?”
“I don’t know.” Anne was unable to meet her sister’s eye.
“One does not think of Mandell as ever waxing tenderhearted over a mother and child. Though I suppose this all could have something to do with losing his own mother at so early an age. Poor Lady Celine. Mama knew her well. She always said Celine was a great beauty in her day and as proud as Lucifer, like all the Windermeres. Everyone was stunned when she eloped with some impoverished French nobleman. Such a ghastly mistake that turned out to be. She was trapped in Paris during the revolution and suffered a hideous death. Celine was actually torn apart by an angry mob.”
“Dear God!” Anne said.
“Did you not know about that part of Mandell’s family history?”
“No, I didn’t.” Anne was fast realizing that she knew truly little about the marquis of Mandell. She said softly, “The man has ever been an enigma to me.”
“And to the rest of the ton. That is why this chivalrous gesture has so many tongues wagging. Many are saying my lord means to fix his interest with you. His grandfather has been after him for a long time to choose a respectable wife.”
“Oh, no!”
“I found that utterly ridiculous, myself. The wicked Mandell and you, my saintly little lamb. Such speculations are almost as bad as the more scurrilous rumors that Mandell is only laying siege to your virtue.”
Anne felt ready to sink through the carpet. It was unsettling enough to think she would be obliged to share Mandell’s bed, but to hear that half of London was discussing the possibility!
“Then perhaps I ought to go away for awhile,” Anne said. “Take Norrie and go home or journey to Scotland and visit Camilla.”
“Run away? That would be the worst thing you could do,” Lily said sternly. She relented enough to give Anne’s shoulder a comforting pat. “My poor pet. I know that you are not at all accustomed to arousing this sort of furor. That is why you must take the advice of your older sister who has walked the fine line of scandal herself a time or two. You must get out more, be seen at parties. When you encounter Mandell, greet him with complete indifference. That will quickly scotch all these rumors.”
Greet Mandell with indifference? Anne thought with dismay. It would take a greater actress than the famous Mrs. Siddons to pull off such a thing.
Lily thrust the stack of invitations into Anne’s hands. “Here. You can start with these. There must be one amongst them it would please you to accept.”
Anne regarded the pile listlessly. All she wanted was for her sister to leave her alone to sort out the bewildering and disturbing array of information Lily had thrust upon her. But Lily would give her no peace until she opened her mail.
Reaching for a letter opener, Anne broke the seal on the first invitation while Lily flitted about, examining some of Anne’s gowns. “You know this lilac silk might still do for a casual evening at home if the frock were furbished with some new trimmings.”
“Hmmm?” Scarce heeding her sister’s sartorial advice, Anne shifted through the stack of invitations. Mrs. Cardiff begged the Lady Fairhaven’s appearance at a small supper party. The Duchess of Devonshire was holding a rout. The Renfrew’s eldest daughter was about to be presented to society. If the weather improved, my lord and lady Benton proposed an al fresco breakfast.
None of these invitations produced any reaction from Anne other than a weary sigh. She experienced not the flickering of an interest until she reached a note that had been buried amidst the stack of gilt-edged cards.
A small, plain sheet of vellum folded over and sealed; it had not been franked so it obviously had been delivered by hand. The script bearing her name was elegant, but most definitely the product of a masculine hand.
Somehow before she broke the seal, she knew. Her heart set up an unsteady beat as she unfolded the single sheet.
My lady Sorrow,
Tonight. At ten o’clock Make your excuses to your sister. I shall have a coach waiting by the front gate.
Mandell.
The signature leapt out at her, dark and bold. Anne tried not to panic. She still had enough time to pack her trunks and Norrie’s, to order up the carriage, to convince Lily that she had to leave today, this very afternoon.
Except that she knew she would do none of those things. Mandell had brought Norrie back to her, and at great personal risk to himself. No matter how selfish his reason, how wicked his motives, Anne was vastly in his debt, a debt she had to find the courage to pay.
She sat staring at the note until she was interrupted by the sound of Lily’s voice. “Well, Anne? Do none of those invitations appeal to you?”
Anne concealed Mandell’s note beneath the rest of the stack.
“Yes,” she said quietly. “There is one here that I am obliged to accept.”
