Chapter Three
Christopher had one more shepherdess to speak to.
So far, none had been the lady he’d inadvertently accosted in the corridor, so he was more than determined to ask the last lady to dance.
He could finally apologize and explain himself.
Unfortunately, the night was almost over and he’d spent far too much time ducking away to avoid Durham, Manning, and Wellsley, as he was at the moment.
As much as he enjoyed his friends’ company, his goal was paramount.
Come the morrow, there would be no shepherdess left to beg forgiveness from.
He hid behind a column cleverly decorated in stars against black fabric, helping him to blend a bit in his dark-brown leather. He’d left his helmet next to a high plant stand near the terrace doors as a decoy, and had almost laughed when Durham headed for it. Luckily, the man—
“Oh.”
At the feel of someone bumping into him from behind, he turned around to find the back of the mysterious woman in black from his brother’s table.
He’d hoped to look for her after he talked to the last shepherdess, but as he inhaled to apologize for being in her way, he noticed the scent of vanilla and his words escaped him.
“I do beg your pardon, sir.”
The soft-spoken words floated into his mind as if on a wisp of a cloud. “My lady, it is an honor to have kept you from crushing the universe.” He held his hand out toward the decorated column.
Her green eyes stared back at him from the holes of a black mask, making them appear even more striking, and he knew, even though he didn’t know, that she was the one. But she couldn’t be. It was the wrong costume.
Her lips twitched below the black material. “Your kindness is truly boundless.”
He grinned, more than pleased that she enjoyed his humor. “Are you also hoping to hide among the stars?”
Her gaze moved to the decorated column before returning to him. “What are you hiding from? I assure you, there are no Gauls attending this fête.”
Gauls? It took him a moment before he understood, which only baffled him the more, for how would she know about the Roman and Gaul wars? Now he was truly intrigued. “And what do you know of the ancient Gauls?”
She tapped two fingers against her chin as she thought, then a sly smile lifted her lips. “Only what I’ve read.”
He laughed at her clever reply. She was obviously being purposely mysterious, and he was never one to let a mystery go unsolved.
About to reply, he halted as the last shepherdess passed directly behind his mystery woman.
His confidence in finding the right woman wavered.
If the lady before him was the shepherdess he sought, she would have needed to change costumes before dinner.
Would she go to such lengths to remain unknown?
“You appear confused, my lord.”
At her statement, he took a risk. “I am. Do you know the name of the lady in the shepherdess costume who is entering the floor to dance?”
His mystery woman leaned to the right to look behind him. “I do. But if I told you her name, then her disguise would be for naught.”
Though he knew he may be wrong about the mystery woman, he let the shepherdess’s identity remain unknown for now. His gut told him the one he sought stood before him. “That’s true. Just as I don’t know your name either.”
“No, you do not. But I know you as Lord Tamworth, younger brother to Lord Sommerset. You are visiting for the holidays, after which, you will return to mentor great younger minds at Oxford.”
She was well informed, and he had no doubt the information was obtained from Lady Rose, a close family friend.
“It appears you know much more about me than I know about you. Could you perhaps give me a name by which I might address you for this night? In my mind, I can only think of you as ‘mystery woman,’ but there are, indeed, so many mystery women in attendance.”
“I do see your dilemma and wouldn’t wish to cause you any head pains on my behalf. So, you may call me Rosalind, but be aware it is not my true name.”
“Lady Rosalind. It is my utmost pleasure to make your acquaintance. May I ask if you have any similar characteristics to the strong-willed, brave, and very wise Rosalind from Shakespeare’s As You Like It, who takes control of her own destiny by dressing as a shepherd?”
Her chin lifted, but as he could only see her mouth, which did appear to have very soft lips, he could not be sure if she was surprised or insulted by his reference.
“I do indeed. How astute of you.”
From her behavior so far, he was not surprised, but there was still doubt in his mind.
Would such a witty woman have run from him at his unexpected kiss?
Would she not yell or at the very least stomp on his foot?
It was the timidity in the lady he’d kissed that didn’t fit with what he knew of the character Rosalind.
For the second time, he was stymied. Should he leave off and pursue the final shepherdess?
“I can see that your mind is greatly occupied, so I won’t keep you any longer.”
As she turned in a swirl of black cape, his heart jumped. “No, wait. Perhaps you can aid me in my quest.”
She looked back at him over her shoulder. “You are on a quest?”
He’d often found talking a problem aloud helped him to solve it, so perhaps he could talk to her. It could serve him twofold. “I am indeed, and you may be of great aid.”
Rosalind hesitated, but finally faced him. “What do you seek, my lord?”
Relieved, he chose his words carefully. “I’m searching for a woman, whom I wish to apologize to.”
“Apologize? What wrong could you have done her?”
“I fear I mistook her for someone else.”
“At a masquerade?” Rosalind waved her hand. “That cannot be an offense that warrants an apology, for isn’t the enjoyment of a masquerade to remain unknown? Surely the lady preened at having so completely duped you.”
He grimaced at the memory of the fair shepherdess’s rounded eyes before she spun and ran away.
“I fear that was the opposite of her reaction. She was properly horrified, and I wish to profusely and humbly apologize.” If Rosalind was not said lady, he didn’t wish to reveal too much.
“The lady I thought she was would have been excited to see me. Unfortunately, this lady was not. I have to admit, I wish to know this lady better, as I very much enjoyed my time with her.”
Rosalind’s eyes rounded in the exact same way that his shepherdess’s had. She must be the one. He wanted her to be the one.
“I’m rather confused. How could you enjoy the company of a lady who looks at you in horror?”
He blinked, not sure how to answer without revealing all.
“Is it perhaps a case of your feelings not being returned?”
“No. I’m quite certain that it is not that, as we don’t know each other. However, I would very much like to remedy that.”
“To apologize?”
He nodded. “And to know her better.”
“Why?”
He grinned at the question. “Because I find her intriguing. I’ve never met anyone like her.” He gazed into Rosalind’s eyes, hoping she would see his sincerity.
Her chest rose as her mouth opened a hairsbreadth and she breathed in.
Unable to help himself, he dropped his gaze to her lips, almost sure they were the ones he’d kissed…almost.
A voice on the other side of the column disturbed his thoughts, reminding him why he hid. He put his finger to his lips, hoping Rosalind would understand.
“I can’t find him. Could he be back in the billiard room?”
“Damned if I know, Durham. There’s such a crush in here, I’m happy for any excuse to leave. You stay here and I’ll go look.”
Christopher feared his friends disturbing the progress he’d made with the lady before him, so silently he pointed over his shoulder and offered his arm to her.
For a moment, she just stared at it as if she’d never been escorted anywhere. Or maybe she thought better of his company, even though she remained masked.
He held his breath as she looked past him at what was sure to be Manning and Durham.
Then she lightly rested her gloved hand upon his bared arm.
Relieved, he walked them calmly toward the terrace doors, anxious to remain out of sight of his friends.
When he reached the terrace, her hand started to slide from his arm.
Quickly, he grasped it and held it. “Come outside with me.”
She shook her head. “That’s hardly proper.”
“True, but who would know who you are?”
She looked over her shoulder at the filled ballroom.
Whoever she sought, her chaperone, perhaps, must not be in view, because she gave a slight nod and allowed him to escort her outside into the cold January night.
They were barely three steps outside before she tugged her hand from his arm and he let her go.
“I do not know you, sir, and will not risk my reputation for you.”
“I understand. I simply wished to continue our conversation in a place my friends may not look.”
“Ah, and so this is why you hid among the stars, or should I say hide among the stars.” She lifted her hand up to indicate the sky, the gesture pure, natural grace.
He appreciated her quick wit. “It is. As I mentioned, I’m in search of a mystery lady, but my friends would prefer I partake in billiards, drink, and political conversation. I have but the rest of this night to find the lady and make my contriteness known, so I have no time for them.”
“I do see your dilemma, but am I not also a distraction from your purpose?”
He gave her a soft smile. “Indeed you are, and a very pleasant one at that. But I also believe you still may help me identify said lady.”
“I see.” Rosalind looked up at the sky. “Our hostess would compare your mystery lady to a star constellation. However, I would suggest that as it is Twelfth Night, you may wish to heed Shakespeare’s lesson in his play of the same name.”
Immediately, he thought about the complex love story of the Bard’s comedy.
In the play, Viola disguised herself as a page to a duke, only to fall in love with said duke.
If he remembered it correctly, as his specialty was the classics and not literature, she may have just validated that she was in fact his mystery lady and had indeed changed her costume.
“I appreciate your advice, as it shows a true caring about my person. I can only hope that my mystery lady is much like you.”
“Of that, I doubt very much. Since I have not found you anything but a gentleman in our conversation, I cannot imagine what you may have done to search so diligently for her to be absolved.”
Her words were like an invitation. He would know with a clear certainty if he were granted another kiss. “Then allow me to demonstrate. You could tell me if it is the lady or myself who is wrong in our assessment.”
She appeared to tense. “Your suggestion has little merit, as an affront is personal and not debatable based upon multiple opinions.”
Surprised by her insight, he gave her a nod. “Your observation is quite correct. However, I find myself wishing to know your opinion, as you seem much more adventurous than my mystery lady.”
Rosalind scanned the area, then, as if making up her mind, she gave one hard nod. “You may demonstrate and I will share my opinion with you.”
His heart swelled in triumph. She knew! Only a woman who knew he had given her a kiss would look about to be sure she wasn’t seen. Why else would she do so? Rosalind had to be his mystery lady, which meant he’d already apologized. And now, now he would prove it.
He stepped up to her and cupped her cheek. When she didn’t jerk away from his touch, he spoke. “This is what I did.” Even as his mouth touched her soft lips, the scent of vanilla filled his nostrils. He begged entrance with his tongue, and as she opened for him, he tasted her and knew.
But this time she didn’t struggle. In fact, she held his arms as if she needed to hold herself upright.
Unable to help himself, he moved his other hand beneath her hood, to hold her head, enjoying the softness of her silky tresses.
When her tongue hesitantly breached his lips, he forgot where he was, her bold move making him harden beneath his pantaloons. Intensifying the kiss, he pulled her against him, her diminutive figure pressing upon his own in all the same places. It was definitely she, and he wanted her.
Even as the thought surfaced, he froze. She was obviously inexperienced, and not a person he should dally with. Intending to apologize directly, he pulled back, his fingers catching in the ribbons of her mask and causing it to fall, only to get caught on his metal wristband.
He snapped his gaze to her face, and her rounded eyes in the moonlight seemed to glow as realization dawned. He only had a glimpse of a heart-shaped face, small chin, button nose, and perfectly arched eyebrows.
In the next instant, she grasped her mask back to her face and spun around, tying it to her head as she strode toward the ballroom doors. It wasn’t until she’d thrown her hood over her head and disappeared into the gaiety of the ball that he groaned.
For all his good intentions, he now needed to apologize once again.
He hadn’t meant to unmask her. His spirits lifted, though, as he walked toward the ballroom once again.
At least now he knew what she looked like and simply needed to learn her name and request an introduction.
That would be far easier than searching out a gaggle of shepherdesses.
He paused as he stepped into the ballroom just as Manning spotted him. At least, he hoped it would be easier.