Unmasked at Midnight (Chronicles of the Westbrook Brides #8)

One

There she is—the woman I mean to court.

LordDariusWestbrook took in EudoraClarke’s loveliness. Her beauty—silky brunette hair, creamy ivory skin, an oval face, rosebud pink lips, and a petite but superbly rounded figure—filled him with awe, even from across the street.

Peekingfrom beneath a feathered bonnet, her soft doe-like eyes framed by lush sable lashes, Eudora gave Darius a demure smile. Her mother, Mrs. GertrudeClarke, narrowed her sharp gaze on him, her features hardening into severe lines in her rather mannish face as she said something to her daughter.

Itconfounded him how a woman as plain and unremarkable as a sheet of foolscap and with a figure resembling a lumpy cotton bale could have produced such a beauty. Only the GoodLord knew the answer to that mystery. Still, as dour and unapproachable as Mrs. Clarke was, no one could fault her diligence in chaperoning her only offspring.

Eudoradutifully averted her gaze, but not before her smile widened a fraction in rebellious flirtation.

ToDarius’s utter delight, the delectable MissClarke wasn’t quite as biddable as she appeared and as, no doubt, her formidable mother preferred.

Hewasn’t the least deterred by Mrs. Clarke’s disapproval.

Aprize easily won was no prize at all. The pursuit, overcoming obstacles, and emerging victorious made the quest all that much more worthwhile. Darius would win over Mrs. Clarke and court Eudora.

Ofthat, he had no doubt.

Enough woolgathering. Back to work.

Hestudied the sign he’d just hung outside his establishment with a critical eye before touching one side ever-so-slightly to bring the slat into perfect balance. His twin, Cassius, had painted the beveled rectangle, flawlessly capturing the establishment’s welcoming atmosphere.

Amusical giggle drew Darius’s attention to the delightful feminine bundle swathed in lavender and pink across the cobbled village square.

Eudorawas the essence of womanliness.

Andyet, a question continued to niggle in his mind; would his mother and sister like her?

Anoctagon fountain burbled happily in the spring sunshine as a pair of round-cheeked urchins—amid squeals of delight—floated their sailboats in the makeshift sea. Men lifted their hats and dipped their chins as Eudora and her imposing mother meandered along, stopping to peruse the window displays.

Glowing, Eudora glided from shop to shop.

Mrs. Clarke glowered and lumbered in her daughter’s wake.

Dariuswaited for the ping of jealousy his rivals’ attention should warrant, but nothing so unpleasant disturbed the morning’s serenity. Likely because of his confidence that Eudora returned his regard. Surely she must. Else, why would she seek his company despite her mother’s censure?

Ayear ago, the mere thought of courting a woman would’ve sent him hightailing it to the farthest corners of the earth. But then, a year ago, he’d still held a commission in HisMajesty’sNavy and wasn’t the proud owner of Westbrook’sBook CoffeeEmporium, his bookstore and coffeehouse.

Excitementand anxiousness battled for dominance when he thought of the week-long grand opening in just two months.

He’dinvited several authors for the event, including his brother Leonidas. His mother had suggested the authors come masked on the final evening to add intrigue and to see if the guests could guess who they were. Mother, who had planned too many grand events to count, insisted the finale include refreshments and a string quartet. Darius didn’t mind the former, but the latter seemed more conducive to a Society ball.

Nevertheless, he conceded to her recommendations.

Afterall, the duchess was a force to be reckoned with and her organizational expertise was legendary.

Invitationsto the more prestigious guests had gone out weeks ago, while a sign in the window invited the locals to participate in the daily activities as well. Naturally, the Westbrook brood, including Grandmama, and his parents, the Duke and Duchess of Latham, would be in attendance.

Westbrook’sBook CoffeeEmporium welcomed everyone, especially the vivacious and breathtakingly lovely EudoraClarke. Although of marriageable age, Eudora exuded a girlish charm. Her bubbly temperament and winsome smile had captivated him from the first day he’d met her at SaintAndrew’sChurch.

Soimmersed in his thoughts about Eudora, Darius tottered unsteadily when the sturdy ladder he stood upon teetered.

What the…?

Jostledfrom his romantic musings, he glanced down, unsurprised to see his twin grinning up at him.

Hecountered his brother’s grin with a glower.

“You’re gaping at her like a moonstruck swain, Dare.”

Cassiusdidn’t appear the least contrite for almost toppling Darius off the ladder.

Ignoringhis brother’s teasing, Darius descended a couple of rungs and, with great satisfaction, examined the store’s bay window. The display needed a few more books and other reading-related doodads before he would consider it completed, but it was coming along quite nicely.

Satisfactionburgeoned behind his breastbone. Compelled by grit and determination, he had done this, not his father’s wealth and influence.

Histwin continued to grin like a drunken buffoon.

“I’m grateful you delivered the sign in person, but shouldn’t you return to your art studio in Brighton, Cass?”

“No.” Cassius shook his head. “No, I don’t believe I shall.”

Dariustamped down a surge of annoyance. “I’m sure you have eager patrons vying to have their portraits painted.”

Therewas a time Darius worried his twin would never paint again.

“My patrons can wait. Besides, you know I always bring my supplies with me. I might even dabble at a landscape or two while I’m here.” Cassius leaned a shoulder against the doorframe. Deep blue eyes, so like Darius’s, glinted with suppressed worry as he rubbed his chin. “In truth, I determined just this morning that as a good brother, I ought to remain and lend a hand. PerhapsI’ll stay for a few weeks. I might even recruit Layton to assist.”

Bollocks.

Betrayaland cynicism had skewed their half-brother Layton’s view on marriage and on life in general. The taciturn eldest Westbrook sibling was the last person Darius wanted advice from.

“Lend a hand?” Darius released a snort worthy of a RoyalAscot racehorse. “Spying on my courtship of MissClarke, you mean.”

“Guilty.” Cassius burst into laughter. “It’s my duty as your twin. We’ve already had multiple siblings charge headlong to the altar with undue haste. I’m here to assure you don’t make the same mistake. Did you forget our vow of bachelorhood?”

Ayoung man’s immature declaration.

Cassiushad been scorned in love, as had Layton. Naturally, neither brother had an interest in marriage.

“Courting her is not a proposal, Cass,” Darius said dryly. He might very well find they weren’t as compatible as he hoped. If he fell in love, he wouldn’t mind a quick union either.

Besides, was it truly a mistake to marry for love, even if Society deemed the wooing rushed? Despite their relatively short courtships and improbable matches, his siblings, Leonidas, Althelia, Adolphus, Lucius, and Fletcher, were all ridiculously happy.

Dariussupposed he would have to wait and see how his courting progressed. Easier done without an interfering twin hanging about or a brooding older brother who had as much use for marriage as he did carbuncles.

Dariushad chosen Woodhaven as the location for his establishment as much because of the quaint but growing township’s charm as the proximity to his father’s ducal estate—a mere forty-five-minute carriage ride away.

Convenient, but perhaps too much so.

Inthe past week alone, Mother and Father had come unannounced thrice to check on the bookstore’s progress.

Or, more aptly, to see if their second youngest child’s foray into the world of commerce required financial assistance—which it did not. Despite his rather meager naval compensation, Darius had saved enough capital to invest in the venture, thanks to adhering to a frugal budget, along with investments from his writer-brother Leonidas and his half-brother Fletcher, who owned two successful social clubs.

Theonly ripple was how Darius would support a wife—if he decided to propose—in the manner she was accustomed to until the bookstore became solvent. He didn’t mind economizing—it taught a person discipline and prudence, and also built character. However, as certain as he was that red blood pumped through his veins, he was equally convinced that Eudora would not appreciate frugality.

Takinga deep breath of the refreshing sea air, he shoved that disconcerting truth to a corner of his mind to examine later.

Love conquers all.

Washe in love with the fetching miss?

Somethingvery pleasant burbled behind his ribs and warmed his blood. Surely that was love or something very near the emotion.

DariusEthanTrentWestbrook, you are in suds up to your starched neckcloth.

Yes. Yes. I am.

Andhe couldn’t summon a jot of concern about his newfound infatuation.

Asif sensing Darius’s ruminations, Mrs. Clarke glanced over her sturdy shoulder. Her squarish features granite hard, she gave him a scorching you-better-not-be-having-impure-thoughts-about-my-daughter glare.

Ratherthan give her a cocky salute and an unrepentant grin, as had been his first instinct, he dipped his chin deferentially. No point in adding fodder to the blaze he wanted to extinguish.

“The dragon is breathing fire today, I see.” EchoingDarius’s thoughts, his twin veered his gaze toward the Clarkes.

Anunapologetic social climber, Mrs. Clarke was a fearsome foe. Darius had determined that truth from their very first meeting and the ensuing stilted conversations. Eudora, on the other hand, didn’t seem as concerned with social standing as her mother.

Despitehis father’s title and his family’s powerful influence in Society, as a younger son, Darius was clearly low on the matron’s list of appropriate suitors. Nevertheless, he suspected, Eudora typically got exactly what she wanted.

Dariusjust needed to ensure she picked him.

Hermother would most likely come around.

Afterall, didn’t all parents desire their children’s happiness above all else?

Hisparents always had.

Ahorrific thought invaded his mind, bringing his romantic musings to a grinding halt.

WouldEudora expect her mother to live with them?

Ye gods.

Noforce on earth would compel Darius to share a domicile with that she-dragon. He expelled a deep breath. He’d have to cross that bridge when he came to it. And right now, that bridge was some distance away.

“She’s just a protective mother,” Darius said, hoping to convince himself. “With a daughter so lovely, she has to be.”

“If you say so.” Cassius’s tone conveyed he didn’t believe that to be the case. “I think she just doesn’t like you. You’re not inheriting a peerage, nor are you wealthy.”

“Thank you for pointing out those deficiencies, brother,” Darius drawled, his tone dryer than hearth ash. Though, in truth, Darius didn’t consider his lack of a peerage title a detriment, nor was he a bloody pauper.

“I know you are infatuated, Darius, and I shall not besmirch MissClarke’s character, but she’s not the sweet, biddable miss she pretends.” Genuine concern and affection softened his twin’s features. “I’ve already discerned that from the short time I’ve been here. You are blind to her faults. Trust me when I tell you my ears are burning from the tales I’ve been told. I fear you are dashing headlong into a tempest.”

“You would have me listen to gossip too?” Darius snorted, betrayal rooting around his belly. “You could at least pretend to like her for my sake.”

Cassiusshrugged. “I shan’t dish out platitudes to soothe your ego.”

“When have you ever?” Darius snapped.

“Exactly so, and that is how you prefer it. And not that you need reminding because I know how intelligent you are, but the truth is still the truth, even if you refuse to believe it.” His expression somber, Cassius disappeared inside the bookstore.

Whydid the rotter have to be right?

Headbowed, Darius sighed.

Washe running headlong into a storm?

Havingseveral older brothers in line for the duchy ahead of him might have much to do with Mrs. Clarke’s disapproval. Or mayhap it was that Darius had determined to pursue his passion and open a bookstore and coffeehouse and therefore would smell of the shop.

Eudora’stinkling laugh drew his attention. She shook her head at something her mother had said, causing her parasol’s pink fringe to jiggle. A seaborne breeze had the temerity to tease a glossy curl near her cheek, and Darius heaved another deep sigh.

Yes, he could be quite content in Woodhaven.

Butwould it be with her?

Hetook another step down the ladder.

Aseries of outraged, muffled honks interrupted his admittedly moon-eyed regard of the delectable MissClarke.

Hunchedover and wearing a gown in an indeterminable shade of brown—or was it drab-green?—a slender young woman bore down upon him. Her rapt attention remained riveted on a fat goose waddling ahead of her.

“SirWaddlesby!” she huffed, grabbing for him and missing. “You are in so much trouble.”

Sir…Waddlesby?

Oh, she meant the goose.

Anembroidered cobalt blue band encircled the goose’s neck, and he clasped a cherry-red glove firmly in his beak.

Dariushad no idea that geese could run so fast.

Thegander’s speed was impressive.

Honk-honk. Honk-honk.

Passersbystopped, laughed, and pointed as the woman chased the naughty wing-flapping fowl.

“SirWaddlesby. Stop this instant. That is not your glove,” she panted as she pelted along, the goose remaining just out of her reach. “It’sMrs. Tenney’s, and if you ruin it…”

Justas Darius stepped onto the last rung, SirWaddlesby spied the ladder and dove between its wooden legs.

Ifa goose could grin in triumph, that dratted creature did.

Therecalcitrant goose’s pursuer realized too late what her ill-mannered pet had done. She tried to stop but barreled full-on into the ladder. In a tangle of limbs, ladder rungs, and feathers, Darius landed atop the woman with a resounding thud.