Chapter 3

At a quiet knock on her door, Grace closed the book she was reading. By the clock on the mantel, she was not, as yet, late for dinner. When she opened the door, her friend Mrs. Moriah Hernshaw stood in the hall, a playful look set upon her face.

They had met several years ago and had formed an instant bond, having both lost their husbands after a brief marriage and at a young age. Whereas Grace had the benefit of wealth and a brother to look after her needs, Moriah had had to fend for herself, often putting herself into alarming situations just to feed herself.

“Oh, good, you are dressed for dinner,” she stated, pushing the door wide to look inside Grace’s room, “and you are alone. Fetch a wrap and let us be on our way.”

Grace rushed to a cabinet to grab a redingote. “Is something wrong?”

“Shush, Grace,” Moriah whispered with a wink of conspiracy. “I do not wish for your sister Miranda to overhear we plan an outing without her.”

“Is there a reason not to include her?” Grace hurried to meet her friend’s need for a hasty departure.

Moriah linked arms with Grace, ushering her down the stairs. Upon seeing their fast descent, the butler quickened his stride to open the door. They practically ran toward Moriah’s carriage as the footman offered his hand to assist them.

“What I have planned for us tonight is not something that your all-too-mischievous sister should be anywhere near. Good heavens, it would ruin any chance of her being received in the best of homes, let alone a decent offer of marriage.” Moriah’s answer was alarming, but her impish look challenged Grace to argue.

“Dare I ask what you have in store for us this evening, Mrs. Hernshaw?” A feeling of both dread and anticipation rolled in the pit of Grace’s stomach.

Moriah adjusted her gown and settled herself in the carriage before raising a brow from Grace’s cheeky tone. “We are about to have an adventure,” she replied with a short chortle.

Moriah’s green eyes danced with excitement, but it was her quirky grin that worried Grace. She laughed along with her but knew the woman could be quite brazen when in pursuit of entertainment.

Grace tapped her friend on the chest with one finger. “Just where you are taking me and why all the subterfuge?”

“Here.” Moriah handed Grace a box tied with a pretty violet ribbon.

“For me? But my birthday is still several months away.”

“Can I not give my friend a present? Besides, you shall need it where we are going.”

Grace opened the box to see a mask hidden between the protective sheets of linen. Purple. Moriah just knew she would love anything if it included her favorite color.

“Are we going to a masquerade?” she inquired suspiciously.

Her friend pulled forth one of her own. She began twirling it around by the ribbon. “A spur of the moment decision, I assure you, Grace. I was lucky to get my hands on these last two tickets from a friend, including a supper box. He plans to meet me there.”

“Should I bother to ask whom are you meeting?”

“The Marquis of Aldridge. A simply divine man if I ever met one. Do you know him?” Moriah inquired.

Grace drew her brows together, puzzled. “I am not acquainted with him.”

“You would remember him if you had been introduced. Quite the reputation with the ladies, which makes him all the more attractive.”

“Honestly, Moriah, I find it hard to understand how you can go from protector to protector as you do and enjoy it so much.”

Moriah gave a heavy sigh. “Do not be fooled by outside appearances, dear, and be thankful you have your own money and a brother to protect your interests. Not every widow is as fortunate.”

Grace clasped her friend’s hand. “I am sorry if I said something offensive. I did not mean for my words to hurt you, Moriah.”

Her friend smiled brightly. “I am made of sterner stuff. A few words will not do any damage to my feelings.”

Grace leaned back into the seat, thankful that she had not ruined one of the few friendships she had. “I do not remember any announcement of a masquerade.”

“You need to get out more, my dearest friend. I cannot believe you have not heard that there is a Grand Masquerade at Vauxhall Gardens this evening to celebrate the victories on the Peninsula.”

“I have been busy of late,” Grace responded rather aloofly.

“Spending all your life with your nose pressed between the pages of a book is not living, Grace.”

She shrugged. “I suppose you have that right, but I enjoy learning something new every day.”

Moriah put her mask in place. “Yes, well, I refuse to allow my very eligible friend to sit home alone again, entertaining no one but her brother and sister.”

Grace sighed. “Adrian has gone out for the evening—heaven knows where—and it would have tried my patience to amuse Miranda with nothing more than my boring company.”

“I was right to think you might enjoy the entertainment. Was I mistaken?” she inquired sweetly.

“You know very well that you are not mistaken, although I should think you would much prefer to be alone with your marquis instead of having another woman along. With identities hidden tonight, you could very well mingle among the ton with no repercussion. For all intended purposes, you could very well be one of them.”

Moriah leaned forward. “You should heed your own words, Gracie. Who knows what the evening may bring?”

Grace’s brow rose. “I am hardly one to have a midnight rendezvous with some unknown gentleman, Moriah.” She began tying her mask into place in imitation of her friend.

“Why ever not? Tonight you can be anyone you wish and, come the morrow, no one will be the wiser.”

“You make it sound so very simple, dear friend,” Grace murmured while she watched the evening scenery through the window. “I have never been, nor shall I ever be, one of those simpering misses batting her eyelashes or flirting shamelessly to get a man’s attention. I am not my younger sister.”

Moriah took her hand and placed a sisterly kiss upon her cheek. “You know I love you just the way you are, but tonight, I wish for you to enjoy the evening to its fullest potential. Could you do that for me, Gracie? I want you to be happy.”

Grace envied the determined and confident look on Moriah’s face. Small wonder she was managing the world all alone and with at least a fair amount of success. Such a look surely got her whatever she wanted. Miranda knew the same trick.

A merry laugh escaped Grace. “You know I could never deny you anything, but you should save such a look for this marquis you wish to dazzle this evening. You may just be eating your own words, Moriah. You never know what the evening may bring you.”

When they reached their destination, Grace was amazed at the throng of people. Was all of London here this evening? A footman came to assist them, and Moriah was the first to leave the carriage. Grace extended her hand to him and stepped down. A sudden rush of people on the walkway caused the footman to lose his grip on her hand, and Grace quickly lost sight of Moriah as she became jostled amongst the enthusiastic group of individuals excited to be a part of such an event. She began to lose her footing on the walkway, but before she slammed into the ground, Grace found herself captured in a strong embrace.

Arms of steel wrapped around her waist to prevent her downward pitch. Her rescuer’s cape whirled around their bodies as though the cloak itself would conceal them from the night and those around them. Fathomless dark eyes were all but hidden in the black mask that concealed his features, yet a flicker from the walkway lanterns hinted at their color. His eyes were brown, much like his hair, she surmised, if the curls that formed around the edges of his hat and mask were any indication.

Grace gasped as he quickly maneuvered her off the pathway to save them from being run over by the eagerness of the crowd. She shivered, but not from the cold, for she was far from chilled. Quite the opposite. She quivered from the warmth that raced up and down her spine at being this close to a man, let alone held intimately for the first time in many years.

“Are you hurt, my lady?”

His deep voice went straight to her heart. His low tone plummeted down to reach into the very depths of her soul to awaken a part of her that had been left dormant as though she had been waiting for him her entire life. Waiting… yes she had been waiting for someone to come along who would give her this sudden feeling of completeness, even though he was a total stranger.

The realization of what she was doing hit her as if a bucket of icy water had been thrown over the top of her head. He was asking her something, but her brain could not wrap itself around what he had inquired.

“Pardon me?” she asked in a breathy whisper of astonishment, especially when she realized she had been caressing the lapel of his jacket beneath his cloak.

His arm tightened around her. She watched in mild fascination as one side of his mouth turned up in a cocky grin. He knew exactly how her body was reacting to their close proximity.

“I asked if you were hurt, although I might also beg for an introduction.”

“I h-hardly think this en-encounter is a-appropriate,” Grace stammered. Was that actually her voice sounding so unsure of herself?

He leaned down, and, for an instant, she thought he was about to kiss her.

“How utterly charming that I have you all tongued-tied.” His words whispered gently in her ear were almost her undoing.

Before she could comment, Moriah’s voice was heard above the noise of the crowd, and she quickly untangled herself from the man who did nothing to hide his disappointment.

“There you are,” Moriah declared as she stared up at the stranger. Grace could only imagine what was going on inside her friend’s mind, given their recent conversation. “I am sorry I lost you. Are you all right?”

Grace nodded. “Yes… of course. Thank you, sir, for your assistance this evening,” she murmured shyly to the gentleman whose lips turned up into a charming grin.

He raised his fingers to tip his hat toward her. “It was my pleasure to rescue a fair damsel in distress.”

Her eyes followed him through the crowd until he disappeared. Her heart hammered in her chest. What in the world had just happened?

“Gracie? Are you sure you are fine?” Moriah questioned.

She touched her lips almost as though she could imagine the feel of the gentleman’s mouth pressed intimately against her own. She looked at her friend. “I am not sure.”

Her words lingered in the evening air and left her wondering what the remainder of the night would bring.