Chapter 2
Julian closed his eyes as he sat back in his favorite chair in his favorite club. The sweet smoke of cigars and cheroots wafted around him while the brandy on his lips was that familiar, delicious, heady taste that he enjoyed far too much and far too often.
He had no company with him yet, but someone was bound to show up soon, even though it was fairly early in the afternoon.
“Julian.”
He opened his eyes quickly at that voice, one he usually tried to avoid.
“James. What are you doing here? Don’t you have a Marquessate to look after?”
His brother settled into the chair beside him with a sigh. “I do, and I would be happy to have some help. In fact, there is an estate—”
“No, thank you,” Julian said, waving his hand in the air. “Don’t you pay people to do that for you?”
“I do, but I also think that a little responsibility is good for everyone.”
“You sound just like how Asher does now. Responsibility, dependability, accountability—how many more words of absolute boredom can I fit in?”
“You’re such an ass, Julian.”
“So be it. I don’t particularly care.”
“I shall never understand you.”
“As I shall never understand you.”
They stared at each other for a moment.
“I ask you again,” Julian said. “What are you doing here?”
“I have multiple purposes. First, Mary would like you to come to dinner on Suday after church. Mother has also expressed her interest in seeing you.”
“So that she can foist more young ladies’ names upon me.”
“She just wants to see you happy.”
“I am happy.”
“You think you are happy.”
“I am not sure why she thinks marriage would bring me happiness when she was miserable throughout hers.”
“Julian,” James chastised him. “You cannot say that.”
“Why not?” he shrugged. “Father was terrible to her and spent more time with his mistresses than her. You can tell how much happier she has been since he died.”
James sighed and rubbed his brow but didn’t refute him. “That does not mean every marriage will be the same. My own is quite happy.”
“What was your next purpose for being here?” Julian pressed, already bored with this conversation. He was sick of other people telling him just what he should be doing with his life.
James leaned in closer to him.
“I heard a bit about the conclusion of this Paragon Diamond mystery.”
“Oh?”
Julian’s heartbeat picked up as he wondered just what had gotten out.
“Is it all true? That Lord Norwood was trying to frame the Duke of Ravenscar when in reality he was the one who had been treasonous to our country?”
“Yes, that is what Asher’s wife uncovered.”
“I see,” James said, sitting back in his chair, looking around once more to make sure that no one was within hearing distance. He’d picked up his own drink on the way, so they should be unbothered for the moment. “Was anyone else named in the scandal?”
“As in anyone else who might have been working with Norwood?” Julian asked carefully, and the two of them shared a look of understanding that seldom occurred between them.
“Yes,” James said, taking a sip of his drink.
“From what I know, no one else was implicated,” Julian said. A slight tug on the back of his mind made him wonder if he should mention what Lady Verity had said about the letters she had found, but she hadn’t given any details, nor had it seemed like she had actually read any of them.
James was sometimes too predictable, and if Julian said anything, there was a good chance that James would take matters into his own hands. As responsible as he was, he could also be… ruthless.
“Good,” James said. “If you hear anything, be sure to let me know.”
“I will,” Julian promised.
He hated that they were in this situation, that there might be more to worry about—and that his future might hinge on what Lady Verity had uncovered and decided to do with it.
Their families had been tied together as much as any other family in the ton.
His father had been a marquess, hers a viscount, so they had been at similar events, but she was a few years younger than he.
Her brother had been closer to James in age and relationship, but now he spent most of his time in the country, running their main estate, as their father preferred to stay in London.
Julian had a feeling he could convince Verity to tell him what was in those letters.
He had a way about him that women seemed to naturally fall for, one that he wasn’t afraid to use to his advantage.
The only problem was that Verity seemed to be the one woman he couldn’t naturally charm. He’d have to lay it on even thicker.
He rubbed his chin. She wasn’t exactly dripping with suitors. He was sure a little attention would do the trick.
“If that is all, I will see you Sunday,” James said, standing.
His entire air of seriousness was what had driven Julian to always want to be his opposite.
As a child, James never wanted to play, go outside, or do anything that would take him away from the responsibilities he had assumed, even when their father was still alive.
“I never agreed to dinner,” Julian said in clipped tones.
“But you’ll be there anyway,” James returned. “Remember who funds the lifestyle you so enjoy. Good day, Julian.”
Julian sighed as he watched him go, his good nature of the day having dissipated, as it always did when James was around.
“Julian,” came another voice from behind him. He turned to find Asher standing there.
“Asher!” he said enthusiastically, his spirits revived. “Good to see you. Married life getting dull already?”
Asher lifted an eyebrow, not amused at that sentiment.
“Sorry, sorry,” Julian said, throwing his hands up. “Just jesting. I know Evelyn is different.”
“She is,” Asher said in a curt tone, taking the seat that James had just vacated. “Speaking of Evelyn, she is hosting a little masquerade.”
“Interesting.”
“Would you attend?”
“Would I attend a masquerade?” Julian said, a grin spreading across his face. “You know how I feel about masquerades. The drama. The secret identities. The intrigue. I would plan it for you, Asher.”
Not actually. But it was certainly an alluring idea.
Perfect. He just might have something to look forward to now.
* * *
“A masquerade, Evelyn?” Verity said, raising her brows as she studied her friend over her teacup.
They were sitting in Evelyn’s drawing room, Thalia on the chair across the coffee table, Lady Seraphina Vale also having joined them as one of Thalia’s newest friends.
“We abhor social events,” she continued.
“We do,” Evelyn agreed, finishing pouring the tea and looking around at the rest of them before she started laughing. Verity joined in, understanding the ridiculousness of the situation. Thalia and Seraphina looked confused, though rather amused. “It is preposterous, I know.”
“Then why do it?”
“I just feel that my introduction to society as the Duchess of Ravenscar has only surrounded the Paragon Diamond and the mystery and scandal attached to it. I should host something, but I really don’t want to go through all the formality that comes with it.
If I hold a masquerade, however, I can do so without all of the expectations. ”
“Not a bad idea, actually,” Thalia considered. “My mother will love that you are holding an event at the house.”
“She will,” Evelyn said. Her first days with the dowager duchess had been rather rocky, although Evelyn, with her brilliant mind for solving puzzles, seemed to be figuring out how to navigate their new roles. It had helped having Thalia as her husband’s sister, on her side.
“When will it be?”
“Next weekend. Enough time for people to create their costumes, but not so long that costume plans are uncovered.”
“Well, you know I will be there for you, no matter what you do,” Verity said.
“I was thinking,” Evelyn said, leaning forward with that gleam in her eye, “that maybe this would be a good opportunity for you, Verity.”
“An opportunity for what?” Verity didn’t like where this was going.
“To bring attention to yourself, without anyone knowing who you are.”
“Oh, Evelyn,” Verity said, already shaking her head, but Seraphina interjected.
“You are quite beautiful, Verity,” she said, although Verity had a hard time believing it from a woman who was absolutely striking, with her shiny dark hair and deep blue eyes. Men’s gazes followed her everywhere she went. “But it’s like you try to hide yourself away.”
Verity bit her lip. Seraphina was right. She didn’t want to be noticed. She liked fading into the background, not being the center of attention.
“I have an idea,” Thalia said, sitting up straight.
She was a small woman, but what she lacked in size she made up for with her personality.
“What if we made you a mask that made it impossible to see most of your face? You could dress in the most magnificent gown and adorn your hair so that it practically shines. We could completely fool all of the ton, for no one would ever guess it was you.”
Verity frowned as she looked at all of them, so enthusiastic about the idea. “But… why?”
“Why?” Seraphina repeated. “Why not? It would be a good bit of fun and would give you the opportunity to see how much men would appreciate you if you’d let them.”
“But I don’t need men to appreciate me,” she protested. “I’m just fine as I am.” She looked at Evelyn. “You understand, don’t you?”
“I—” Evelyn started, before tapping her fingertips against her leg. “I know how you feel, Verity, as I’ve been there before. But I also know now what it’s like to have someone who loves you, who is your partner, there for you in whatever you might need. I’d like to see you find someone, too.”
Verity sighed, for Evelyn had hit on the truth of the matter. She had always thought that she and Evelyn would grow old together, be spinsters together, but then Evelyn had married Asher—though it hadn’t been planned—and now Verity was beginning to feel like she had been left behind.
She wondered how much of this had to do with Evelyn feeling guilty for not following through with their plan.
“We’ll see,” was all Verity said.
“Good,” Evelyn said, a wicked smile starting to cross her face.
“What?” Verity said, instantly suspicious as a knock came on the door.
“Your grace, the modiste is here.”
“Perfect,” Evelyn said, clapping her hands together. “Let’s go, ladies.”
“Go where?” Verity said. It looked like Thalia already knew what this was about, and Seraphina seemed excited for whatever was in store. She was much more spontaneous than Verity could ever be.
“To my bedroom,” Evelyn said triumphantly. “We have gowns to try on.”
Verity groaned aloud. Dress shopping was far from one of her favorite activities.
For one, she was sure the samples would fit Evelyn and Seraphina perfectly, would be slightly big on Thalia, and too tight for Verity.
She had too many curves, her large bodice among them, which was why she tried to fade into the background.
She’d had too many men who looked at her chest before her face, and she didn’t appreciate it—not one bit.
Of course, the modiste, Mademoiselle Violette, took one look at her and clapped her hands together with glee.
“Her grace provided me with an idea of your measurements and preferences, so I have a few suggestions for each of you. But we shall see. It’s up to you,” she said as she circled the four of them, sizing them up.
“Her grace first,” she said, ushering Evelyn into the dressing room, where she had set everything up.
The three ladies gaped in awe at Evelyn in a deep red dress, ideal for a married woman, yet tight enough to perfectly portray her curves. Seraphina looked stunning in yellow, which suited her coloring, while Thalia was brought to life in a blue-and-teal creation that made her look like a mermaid.
Then it was Verity’s turn.
Mademoiselle Violette accompanied her into the dressing room to help her don the garment, a deep purple that brought out the mauve in her eyes, making them more lavender than the blue they fluctuated between.
“Oh, mon dieu,” she said, taking in a deep breath as she stared at Verity. “Oui, oui, c’est parfait.”
Verity ran her hands over the smooth fabric. It was beautiful, but she would never have chosen it for herself.
She could already tell that her breasts were practically bursting over the neckline, and she could only imagine what her mother might say. Unless… her mother never knew.
“Come, come,” the modiste said, moving Verity forward and into Evelyn’s bedroom.
The other women gasped when they saw her, Evelyn even wiping tears from her eyes.
“Oh, Verity,” she said. “You are… breathtaking.”
The modiste moved Verity in front of the mirror, and her eyes widened as she took herself in.
The purple fabric hugged every curve of her torso until it flowed out around her in pools of generous fabric. There was nothing particularly extravagant about it, but its simplicity almost showed off Verity all the better. And it fit perfectly.
“I—I don’t know,” she said, running her fingers along the low neckline, which extended to cap sleeves that sat just off her shoulder. “Could we add some fabric here?”
“Absolutely not,” Evelyn said firmly, as Seraphina shook her head as well.
“Is there a matching mask?” Evelyn asked the modiste, who nodded, dimples in her cheeks as she couldn’t stop smiling at Verity.
“Here we are,” she said, tying the ribbons of the mask around Verity’s head.
It was also purple, with the slightest hint of mauve. It was larger than some of the other masks, but as simple as the dress.
And Verity knew, without a doubt, that no one would ever guess who she was.