The Temporary Duchess (The Lost Duke #2)

Chapter 1

“Elara, are you sure about this?”

Elara Mason’s blue eyes lifted, meeting her cousin Caroline’s worried gaze. Caroline swallowed hard, her throat bobbing.

“I just... I do not think this is the best idea,” Caroline went on, her eyes darting nervously behind her black-and-bronze masquerade mask.

Elara reached out and clasped her dear cousin’s hands, squeezing them for comfort.

“Do not give in to fear now, cousin,” Elara urged. “We have been masquerading around this town for over a year, attempting to gain information on my brother’s death, and have yet to get caught or get into trouble. Why would tonight be any different for us?”

Behind her mask, Caroline gave Elara a forlorn look, then eyed her up and down.

“Well, to begin with, you and I are actually dressed as women this time,” Caroline whispered, despite being inside their carriage.

“That is a change, is it not?”

Though Elara knew Caroline was speaking of a most serious matter, Elara could not help but giggle.

Yes, it was true they dressed as young gentlemen to gain entry to private clubs and places of ill-repute in hopes of finding out what had happened to Elara’s brother, Evander, but it was also true that Elara felt a rather intense thrill at being able to pull such an immense trick over the ton, and had been able to do so for over a year.

“Do not laugh!” Caroline pleaded. “This is most serious, Elara. We could be recognized in our costumes this evening, and you know good and well how poorly that would end for both of us! We have no wigs or faux facial hair to hide behind tonight. If something happens to our masks, we will be ruined!”

“Caroline,” Elara softly soothed her cousin. “Please calm down. We will be all right.”

“You do not know that, Elara!” Caroline insisted, looking more exasperated than before.

“What if there is nothing to find, and we have risked everything for nothing? What if someone sees through our masks? We would be ruined, both of us. My stepmother would have the perfect excuse to punish me, and your brother would be absolutely furious with you. Adrian would lock you away for the rest of your life!”

“I am sure we will manage to—”

“Oh, Lord! If my stepmother finds out what we have been up to, I… I do not know what will happen. Even if Adrian tried to protect me, I do not even think he would be able to stop her from... from...”

Elara’s laughter ceased at once as she took in Caroline’s panicked look.

Yes, she was very aware of the trouble she would be in with her brother, Adrian, who was now the new Duke of Redgrave since Evander was gone.

He had been permitting her to sneak out at night, but only because his men kept a close guard on her.

However, if he knew how often she was able to fool them, or worse, how she and her cousin were fooling them, he would no doubt send her to a convent for the rest of her life.

She could plead with Bridget—Adrian’s new wife, whom not only Adrian adored, but Elara did as well. Still, even Bridget might not be able to dissuade Adrian from a fierce punishment.

And Mama would certainly have an apoplexy if she knew...

Then, of course, she knew her cousin was right.

Elara subtly shook her head at the thought.

She did not want to think about what would happen to them if they were caught.

Caroline’s family had not been the same since her father died, and though her cousin never wanted to talk about it, Elara was sure a great strain was widening between her, her stepmother, and her stepsister.

Elara shook her head, harder this time, to dispel the negative thoughts.

Now was not the time to give in to fear.

Not when, after months of nothing, a new lead in her brother’s death had finally surfaced.

A lead that, by happy circumstance, was hosting the very exclusive masquerade ball they were currently headed to.

If there is the slimmest chance that Evander is still alive... I have to do all I can to find out.

The invitation to the event had been lifted rather skillfully from another gentleman’s jacket by Elara herself after that gentleman had been showing it off at White’s last week, only moments after bashing the very host’s name: Constantine Harcourt.

Not only was he the Duke of Ashworth, but he was now Elara’s newest suspect in Evander’s plight.

“Look at me, cousin,” Elara insisted. “Are we not brave?”

Caroline looked hesitant to answer her at first, then, with a sigh, muttered, “Yes, we are brave.”

“Are we not intelligent?” Elara asked.

Caroline tsked her tongue. “Of course we are.”

“And have we not been able to use that bravery and intelligence to fool not only our families but the entire ton for well over a year?”

An impish smile tugged at Caroline’s lips as her drooping shoulders straightened.

“Yes, we have,” Caroline agreed soundly.

“You look fabulous. I look fabulous. We will not be recognized tonight. Nor will anyone want to recognize us. That is the point of masquerade balls, especially the Duke of Ashworth’s.

I hear they are the most elaborate of all, and that at many times, after the stroke of one, the ball turns into something far more… intimate.”

Caroline shivered.

“Do not make me stay that long,” Caroline insisted.

A smile twitched at Elara’s lips. Though she found the rumor of such a party alluring, she was not quite sure what she would do if the opportunity arose under different circumstances.

Tonight, though, was not about exploring the curious nature of human sensuality.

It was about finding answers for Evander.

“My point, dear cousin, is that everyone there will want their true identities protected, and no one will wish to discover ours. We are as safe in these masks and dresses as we were in our breeches and wigs. We need to follow our plan, as we always do, and we will be fine,” Elara assured her.

“Right,” Caroline said matter-of-factly as she finally let go of Elara’s hands. “You are right, of course. And we have our plan.”

“Indeed, we do,” Elara agreed as the carriage came to a stop.

“We have arrived,” Elara murmured. “Deep breaths, shoulders back. No one will doubt our invitation as long as we appear confident that it is ours. Do you remember what you have to do once we get inside?”

Caroline gave her a firm nod, and a moment later, they stepped out of the carriage and into the throng of other masked ladies and gentlemen.

Elara had wanted their costumes to be the complete opposite of who they were or who they wished to be.

So instead of dressing her normally quiet cousin in the soft tones she adored, Elara had opted for a black-and-bronze color scheme.

Her dark hair had been pulled back tightly and disguised by a high, multi-pronged bronze crown.

Her mask, gloves, and dress matched almost identically, with a checkered pattern of bronze and black silk boxes.

She had even painted Caroline’s lips with a bronze powder, which had cost a surprising amount to make.

For herself, Elara had forgone the blues she so adored and chosen a crimson silk mask and dress that accentuated her raven-black hair.

Unlike her cousin, Elara had let her long locks unbound and curled, giving them a wild, almost untamed look.

To give her costume extra depth, she had singed the dress in various places, giving it the appearance of a person on fire.

She had then completed the ensemble with tight, black silk gloves that ran to her elbow, where the cuff of her dress sat, so that the only flesh she bared was from her plump lips to the swell of her cleavage in the low, scoop-necked bodice of her dress.

For a moment, as many eyes fell on them, Elara doubted the very words of encouragement she had just tried to instill in Caroline.

She was used to curious looks from other gentlemen of the ton at social events, but none were as intense as the ones she was receiving now.

Even behind the multitude of masks, Elara could feel the lustful looks from the gentlemen and the jealous, catty looks from the other ladies.

“Come,” Elara muttered, looping her arm through Caroline’s. “Let us not forget that we have come here for a purpose, not for entertainment.”

With their shoulders back and their heads held high, the two young women ignored the stares of the others and headed toward the entrance of the Duke of Ashworth’s London house.

“Your invitation, my ladies?” the butler asked politely as they approached.

Elara felt Caroline stiffen at her side. Knowing she would need to speak for both of them, Elara gave the butler, a man she had researched before coming, a sultry smile.

“Oh, come now, Mr. Pearson, do you not recognize us?” Emboldened by her disguise, Elara flirted boldly as she handed back their stolen invitation.

Just as she predicted, using the butler’s proper name and her sultry smile was enough to fluster the tall, thin man so thoroughly that he did not even bother to look at the invitation he had been given.

Instead, he flushed red, bowed low at the waist, and tossed the invitation into the growing pile on the stool beside him.

“Of course, my ladies. How... how lovely to see you both again,” Mr. Pearson nearly stammered as he waved them inside. “Do enjoy yourselves this evening. I am sure His Grace will be most pleased to see you.”

“Thank you, Mr. Pearson,” Elara sang as she and Caroline breezed past him and through the curtained entrance of the foyer.

Once they made it to the other side, though, Elara and Caroline could not help but stop and gasp at the revelry before them. On the invitation, the ball had been titled in French: Masquerade du Cirque d’Intrigue, and as Elara took in the performers before them, it most certainly was that.

“Still worried that people are going to recognize us?” Elara murmured into Caroline’s ear. “No one is going to be looking at the guests when they have his entertainment to watch!”

“Yes,” Caroline murmured, her tone trembling with fear. “I suppose you are right. I still do not want to stay long, though. I have a bad feeling about tonight.”

“I will search as quickly as I can,” Elara promised, then focused on the scene before them.

Strange yet oddly satisfying music played from the balcony above as women dressed in shining, ethereal dresses seemed to fly back and forth between balconies on silk ribbons attached to the ceiling.

In the center of the large foyer stood a scantily clad couple dancing with perfect balance atop a giant globe about as tall as Elara’s brother.

With every step the dancers took, the globe would move, yet somehow the couple remained atop it.

On either side of the ballroom, dancers were jugglers, but instead of pins, they juggled lit torches. Elara and Caroline both gasped—along with everyone around them—when they suddenly stopped, blew something out of their mouths, and sent their flames shooting toward the ceiling.

For a moment, Elara let herself take in the thrall of it all. She had heard that the Duke of Ashworth liked to host lavish parties, but this? This was pure magic and wonderment. Yet something about it all felt strangely wicked, even if she could not put her finger on it.

This is what the Duke likes? Just what kind of man is he?

“Looks like His Grace has outdone himself yet again,” a gentleman muttered behind Elara.

The words snapped her out of her reverie, and she leaned back ever so slightly to hear more about their host.

“Indeed. He does rather love his theatrics,” another gentleman murmured. “Interesting, though, is it not, that despite hosting such parties, he is rarely ever seen attending them?”

Elara raised a brow, curious about why someone would go to such great lengths to host a party of such caliber and then not attend it. She would have to keep that in mind as she searched for clues that evening. Which, she decided, would be now.

“Caroline, I believe it is time for a refreshment,” Elara whispered into her cousin’s ear. “Would you not agree?”

Caroline turned to her and winked.

“Of course, allow me to fetch them for you,” Caroline offered, untangling her arm from Elara’s.

This had been their signal.

Elara slowly made her way to the left staircase, watching her cousin approach the large array of refreshment tables at the opposite end of the room, staying as close to the wall and out of sight as possible.

Just as Elara reached the bottom step of the marble staircase, Caroline, so very ‘clumsily,’ pulled a champagne glass from the middle of the pyramid they were arranged in, sending them all crashing to the ground.

All eyes turned to Caroline at once. Even the performers paused in their tricks to see what had happened, and that was when Elara made her move.

Lifting her skirts, she raced up the stairs and rounded the second-floor corner.

Her heart pounded as she pressed her back against the wall and prayed no one saw her ascend.

She waited a few moments, then peered cautiously around the corner.

Relief flooded through her when she saw that all attention was still on Caroline.

Knowing their plan had worked, Elara drew in a steadying breath and began her search.

She was not sure exactly what she was looking for.

She only had faith that she would know it when she saw it, but as she searched one boring guest room after another, her spirits sank.

Could the information about the Duke of Ashworth have been wrong? There is nothing of interest here!

Elara soon realized that the mansion’s first floor was filled only with guest rooms and linen closets. Thankfully, she found the servant’s staircase and, unnoticed yet again, moved up to the third floor. That was until she heard the sound of two feminine voices coming from behind her.

“But I want to see!” one pleaded.

“Your task is to keep this wing clear, Rebecca, and you cannot do so if you are gawking at the entertainment!” another maid scolded.

A jolt of fear shot down Elara’s spine as the voices drew closer.

Her blue eyes darted around the hall, spotted the nearest door to the right, and bolted for it.

She silently sent up a prayer of gratitude when she found the door unlocked and pried it open just enough to slip her lithe body through, then pressed herself against the door and shut it as silently as possible.

Elara held her breath as she gripped the door handle, her ear pressed to the wood, eyes closed, straining to hear the voices. A moment passed, then two. Then she heard the two sets of footsteps approach, then fade.

I was almost caught.

Elara let out an audible sigh of relief and, for a moment, let herself relax against the door.

“Well, well. What a beautiful demoness,” a deep voice said from behind her, sending a tremor up her spine. “I wonder, little flame. What are you doing in my room?”