Cursing her mama for inheriting the tendency of sweaty palms, Mary ran her hands down her sides and let them settle on her hips as she twisted. She smiled at the swish of her skirts. Never had a gown made her feel so wonton and beautiful at the same time. Her décolletage cut lower than she ever dared to wear before. “Thank goodness Papa is not here to see.”
Greene placed a hand on Mary’s back and tugged on her laces once more. “Yes, it’s an excellent thing His Grace is not here to see the activities you have chosen to partake of in this trip.”
Wagering large sums. Sharing a bed with another—she hadn’t done anything her own papa wasn’t guilty of.
Breaking Mary out of her thoughts, Greene said, “My lady, you look splendid.” She stepped back to inspect her handiwork. “I don’t know what has brought about the change in you, but I’m grateful for it. The gown is stunning, but it is your inner self shining through that makes you incomparable tonight.”
“Why, thank you, Greene. That is by far the nicest thing you have ever shared with me.”
Greene’s cheeks turned a rosy red. “Where is Lord Waterford? Wasn’t he to come and escort you to the ball?”
Yes, where was the man? Mary had forgotten to share the most critical piece of information she had garnered from Comtesse Boucher—the threat to her friend Lady Grace and Lord Archbroke. Mary had deliberated all day whether to seek Gilbert out. But the comtesse had invited her to break her fast and steadfastly refused to let her go for the rest of the day.
Twirling in front of the looking glass, Mary said, “Gilbert is never late. I’m sure he will be here soon.”
She inhaled a deep breath. It had been only a few hours since she had left Comtesse Boucher’s company. Impossible. There was no way the she-devil could have succeeded in her plans to corner Gilbert. Yet the woman had boasted of her scheme yesterday during Mary’s long and arduous costume fitting and again today at tea.
Mary jumped at the sound of Gilbert’s voice at the doorway. “I’m sorry I’m late.”
She turned to greet him, and Greene mumbled loud enough for all to hear, “And so you should be,” before she scurried into the adjoining chamber.
Gilbert strode into the room, his eyes never leaving Mary’s.
Mary gasped for air. Blasted corset. It had to be the cause of her inability to breathe— and not the man before her. “Gilbert, how did you manage to obtain such a magnificent coat?”
The coat was crafted from dark navy-blue velvet. It almost looked black. Elegant silver embroidery scrolled across the shoulder line, highlighting Gilbert’s broad chest. The metallic design flowed down the front all the way to his narrowed waist. Mary’s eyes continued to follow the front seam of the coat to its pointed ends that fell slightly above Gilbert’s knees.
“I’m not sure where the ensemble magically appeared from. However, both Hadfield and I were relieved to find that they were not too ostentatious. Although Hadfield claimed the forest-green cravat left for him brought images of Archbroke to mind in his role as a dandy.”
Images of the home secretary and the various outfits she had seen the man in over the years flittered through Mary’s memory. She raised her hand to her lips as a croak of a laugh escaped her. “Now that Lord Archbroke is married, I believe Theo will have a positive influence over his wardrobe, and perhaps we shall never see another gamboge waistcoat again.”
Gilbert chuckled. “You didn’t care for the color?” He pulled out a mask made of the same material as his coat with ribbons that were orange in color.
They both burst into laughter.
Greene shook her head as she approached with Mary’s domino in hand. “My lady, please remain still.”
Mary straightened and turned to allow her maid to affix her mask. Instead of Greene’s cool fingers, it was Gilbert’s warm touch she felt along her temples.
Gilbert whispered, “Lass, you look bonny tonight.”
“You never answered me the other night. Was it your mama who was Scottish?”
“Aren’t ye a clever lass. Aye, me ma was Scottish. And t’was me nana who shared stories of hobgoblins and wraiths with me as a bairn.”
Mary’s heart skipped a beat when he slipped into his Scottish brogue. This was a part of him she had never known him to share with another. It filled her heart with joy that he had shared it with her.
Gilbert’s hand rested on the edge of her shoulders and then spun her around to face him. “My parents’ marriage was arranged.” His eyes were clear and intense as he gazed down at her. “All my papa cared for was my mama’s dowry. My papa didn’t care for my mother’s Scottish accent and was determined I’d not adopt the heathen language she spoke.”
Had he refused her all these years because of her vast dowry, not wanting to appear the fortune hunter his papa had been?
Mary began to say, “But how—”
“Oh, my mama was a clever woman and a proud Scot at that. When I was a lad, each year my papa would leave for town to attend to his duties at the House of Lords. Mama would arrange for us to journey to Scotland to visit her family. That was until the year he came down with the influenza and returned early to our country seat. When he was informed we had left, he came to Scotland to retrieve his wayward wife and son.” Gilbert’s eyes became glassy, as if he were no longer in the present. “Upon arriving, my papa was deathly sick and ordered that only Mama was to tend to him; neither of them survived that trip.”
“How old were you?”
“Ten. I was to attend Harrow’s come spring, but my grandmama on my papa’s side insisted I attend Eton, and she saw to it that I never returned to Scotland again.”
“Is your nana still alive?”
“No, my grandmama outlived her. I wasn’t allowed to attend my nana’s funeral, and I refused to attend my grandmama’s.”
Lowering her gaze, Mary said, “I understand now.”
“Beg pardon?” Gilbert blinked. The mistiness gone, clear-eyed once more, he stared down at her.
“I realize now why you were opposed to the idea of marrying me. You wanted the freedom to choose your wife. Perhaps it felt like you were being forced into an arrangement without your say.”
He leaned down and said, “I’m relieved you comprehend my youthful stupidity. But Mary, I know you are truly the only woman for me. I’m sorry it took me these many years to finally grasp that our union would be in no way the same as that of my parents.”
Mary wrapped her arms about his waist and leaned her cheek against his chest. “No need to apologize. Lady Frances always said men were slow.”
At the mention of Lady Frances, Gilbert’s whole body tensed.
Mary leaned back and asked, “Is something the matter?”
“Do you really see and talk to the dead?”
The look of incredibility shouldn’t have hurt; she had seen it too many times. “You will be happy to hear as of a week ago I ceased to have the ability.”
“Can you resume or desist at will?”
“Unfortunately, that is not how it works.” Mary tried to pull out of his arms, but Gilbert tightened his hold, and his gaze intensified.
“You miss them.”
She crumpled, and he pulled her in tight. “At first I didn’t, but as each day passes, I worry I’ll never regain what my cousin calls a gift.”
“Valois shares this ability?”
“Yes.”
Gilbert chuckled. “Ah, well, that does explain his odd behavior at times.”
It was her turn to stiffen at his use of the word “odd.” Mary bowed her head. She didn’t want to be viewed as one with peculiar habits. Gilbert placed a finger under her chin, forcing her to lift her face to his. The flare of concern in his eyes had her muscles relaxing slightly.
He removed his hand from her face and returned it to her waist. “I’m sorry. I meant no offense. Valois does go about in a way—”
Mary waited for Gilbert to finish his sentence.
His brow creased. As he was clearly at a loss for the correct words, she took pity on him and said, “My cousin doesn’t attempt to hide the fact he is able to converse with others. He appears to care naught about what others deem normal or appropriate.”
Gilbert abruptly released her and took a large step back.
What the devil?
Greene emerged from the adjoining chamber and calmly padded over to door. Her maid’s hand hovered over the door handle. Absorbed in her conversation with Gilbert, Mary hadn’t heard anyone approach or scratch at her door. Greene had incredible hearing.
Had her maid overheard their entire conversation?
Mary trusted Greene, but she had never shared the full truth about her abilities.
Greene asked, “Well, my lady, should I let the gentleman in or not?”
Mary said, “Please.”
A stunningly handsome Hadfield waltzed into the room along with her cousin. The dark charcoal of Hadfield’s coat complimented his gem-green cravat. Gilbert had referred to it as forest green but she would disagree. The cravat highlighted the green specks in Lord Hadfield’s hazel eyes, causing them to sparkle like emeralds. Coupled with the dimple he rarely shared, Mary was taken aback at Lord Hadfield’s charming appearance.
Lord Hadfield reached for her hand and brought it up to his lips to place upon it a chaste kiss. “Lady Mary, you look delightful.”
Valois stole her hand away and lifted it out wide to the side. “Magnifique.” Her cousin tugged on her hand, toppling her closer. Instead of falling, Valois guided Mary into a full spin.
Mary released a giggle. Blood rushed to her cheeks as all three gentlemen leveled a gaze upon her as she came to a stop. Her eyes fell to the center of Valois’s black coat. It was also made out of velvet and of a similar cut to the other two gentlemen’s coats.
Hmm. Mary frowned. It would be challenging to tell the three men apart as they were all of similar height, and with dominos affixed, their features would be masked. One would have to be close to see the different hair color—Valois’s blond, Hadfield’s medium brown, while Waterford’s looked near-black.
“Waterford, we need to be off. Let me assist you with your mask.” Hadfield took the forgotten mask from Gilbert’s hands and lifted it up. As he caught sight of the color of the ribbons, he said, “Good Lord, I’m plagued by constant reminders of Archbroke.”
Mary hesitated to vocalize her thoughts, but for his safety, she said, “Lord Hadfield, perhaps these occurrences mean something.”
After tying a rather intricate knot securing Gilbert’s mask, Lord Hadfield turned to face her. “Beg pardon?”
“Could it be your subconscious is trying to tell you something?”
“That I made a mistake in letting my dear cousin, Theo, marry a dandy?”
“No. Everyone knows it was no mistake. Could it be that for you to be successful tonight, you need to recall something of import related to Lord Archbroke?”
Talk of Lord Archbroke, was a reminder that she had yet to share with Gilbert the danger Lord Burke posed to the home secretary and Lady Grace.
“Ma chérie, you are aware of how dangerous it is to tempt fate.” Valois’s tone was serious and ominous. “Come, or we will be late.”
Lord Hadfield’s eyebrows disappeared behind his mask, but his frown of confusion was clear for all to see. “Ready?”
Mary placed a hand on Gilbert’s winged his arm and went on her tiptoes to whisper, “I must speak with you. Privately.”
Gilbert asked, “What is the matter?”
Mary glanced at Lord Hadfield, who was staring.
She leaned a closer to Gilbert. “The comtesse shared with me that Lord Burke is planning a scheme that will place Lady Grace and Lord Archbroke in danger. I sent missives under the disguise of correspondence to Lady Theo, to warn them. But I don’t understand why Lord Burke would want to harm Lady Grace.”
Lord Hadfield came to stand in front of them. “I believe Lady Grace might have had a hand in Lady Cecilia assisting us to disrupt Burke’s plans for Harrington and the others.” He tapped his forefinger upon his closed lips. “When did you dispatch these letters?”
“The night before last.” Mary searched Gilbert’s features for reassurance.
Gilbert patted her hand that rested on his arm. “That was very clever of you to address them to Archbroke’s wife.”
Lord Hadfield and Valois said in unison, “We leave at first light.” Without further discussion, the men led their party through the maze of hallways.
Slowing his gait as they approached the door to the ballroom, Gilbert whispered, “Be very cautious this eve. As soon as Hadfield and I have obtained the information we seek, I’ll find you.”
“I’ll be careful.”
Mary’s stomach knotted. She would carry out her assignment, but she had yet to devise a plan that did not carry a mountain of risk.