Free The Reluctant Husband by Madeleine Conway Page A

inspect her bridegroom. She remembered him as a stunning youth, but before she made any decisions with regard to the future, she needed to see him once again.
    So she had gone riding that morning. And the hat had come off, and she had made an exhibition of herself and caught only the merest glimpse of a dark young man sitting in a carriage with the comtesse, looking a little bored. It was not enough on which to base any plans. The difficulty would be in encountering him without revealing her identity.
    Those distant dreams of subjugating the viscount still resonated in Cecilia’s imagination. For so long now, her duties had led her into ways that suited her, and she was used to getting her own way through the exercise of all that she had learnt through her aunt. Finally, all her training would come into play, but Cecilia was not yet sure of the nature of the game in which she would be engaged. Marston dropped the brush. It was time to meet Aunt Letitia and discover what delights the day held.

Five
    Of course Letitia Ketley had secured invitations for the Comtesse de Ferrière’s great masked ball well before there had been any question of Ormiston attending. Cecilia’s imagination had been captured by the collection of plunder that Napoleon had amassed from Egypt, and she spent some hours sketching images of gods and goddesses before devising a costume which she resolutely refused to discuss with her aunt or Marston. On the evening of the ball, Marston came to Cecilia’s room and insisted on inspecting the contents of the mysterious boxes that had been delivered earlier that week.
    The costume was more demure than Marston had feared, but also more exotic than she cared for. The dress was of fine white muslin with a full skirt, for which Marston supposed she should be grateful, but it was embroidered with gold and scarlet thread in outlandish designs, falcons and cats cavorting about the hem. The bodice was heavy with intricate gold-and-red stitching, and the sleeves were negligible puffs of white material, scarcely there. Cecilia carried a flimsy chiffon scarf with tassels of gold thread. However, the most outrageous item was the mask itself. It was a delicate creation in the shape of a lioness’s head, wrought in gold leaf and pleated cloth of gold, leaving her mouth and chin free, but concealing the rest of her head entirely. The shimmering fall of the material reached just below her shoulders.
    â€œIt’s heathen.”
    â€œIntentionally so, Marston. I have taken the likeness of the Goddess Sekhmet.”
    â€œI’ve no idea who she may be, and to be sure, you look seemly and fit to be seen by gentlemen, but there is something wicked about it.”
    Cecilia laughed and ridiculed Marston’s old-fashioned ways, but the woman’s disapproval warmed her thoroughly. Tonight, she knew she was alluring. She had taken a step into unknown territory, moving away from what might be suitable for a girl, toward some undefined and infinite possibility.
    Marston expected Lady Ketley, on beholding the outlandish costume, to exclaim with horror and send her niece back to her room to change, but the admiral’s wife smoothly refrained from all comment apart from an almost approving murmur of “How exotic you look, my dear.”
    The admiral was more effusive. “Fine getup, m’dear. You’ll be all the rage. Must keep an eye on you.”
    â€œIn that mask, it shouldn’t be difficult to track her down should she go astray,” commented Lady Ketley dryly as she buttoned up her gloves and fastened her cloak.
    The drive to the Hotel de Ferrières was brief, but as the carriage approached the house, it slowed to a crawl as the jam of vehicles gradually inched forward, depositing guests and pulling away. Brilliant light shone from every window of the great mansion, in which every sconce and chandelier appeared to have been lit. Even the garden was illuminated, revealing