let her see your face eventually.” Spencer spoke carefully, as if he feared Richard’s reaction.
“To encourage any woman to marry you without doing so, would be very unfair.”
Richard started, dropping the curtain as he turned back to face his brother. “Of course. I was not suggesting any form of
trickery. I was merely wondering if a moment might arise where I could show myself to her without my appearance altering her
regard.”
Spencer blew out a deep breath. “I would like to think so. But unfortunately, your chance of meeting such a lady in disguise
has passed. I do not believe that Lady Duncaster is planning to host another masquerade ball in the immediate future.”
Richard nodded. He would not mention Lady Eleanor. She was a secret that he intended to keep close to his heart. “It is getting
late,” he said. “I believe you should be getting back to your wife?”
“Yes. I probably should.” Spencer’s footsteps tapped against the floor as he walked over to the door. “I wish you a good night,
Richard.”
Richard inclined his head. “Same to you. I look forward to seeing you again tomorrow evening.”
As soon as he was gone, Richard reached inside his pocket and retrieved the note from Lady Eleanor.
—And while I was honest with you when we spoke, regarding my position on marriage, I cannot help but feel a certain connection
with you. If there is any chance that you might feel the same way, I will be at the Greek folly beyond the west lawn tonight
at midnight.
Respectfully,
Lady Eleanor
Richard felt his stomach tighten as he reread the final sentence. Clearly, the lady was suggesting a secret assignation. The
thought was certainly intriguing, not to mention tempting. Glancing toward the clock on the mantelpiece, Richard noted the
time, barely visible in the dimly lit room. Ten o’clock. Pensively, he reached for his violin, tucking it beneath his chin
before sliding the bow slowly across the strings. The effect was a languid moan, like that of a satisfied lover.
Closing his eyes, he allowed the haunting melody to flow through him. It represented everything that he was, all that he had
suffered, and the patience with which he was carrying out his vendetta. It reminded him of five long years of solitude, nights
filled with equal measures of yearning and loathing, both deeply imbedded within his soul.
The tune drew to an end and Richard opened his eyes to find himself staring into the long mirror that hung on the wall. His
blood pumped slightly faster through his veins as he took in the damaged flesh. To subject Lady Eleanor to such ugliness in
the hope that she might be willing to accept him as a potential suitor, would be foolhardy. Worse, would be the selfishness
of letting her into his life when he was so consumed by anger. He ought to dissuade her.
Still standing by the window later, he watched as the cloaked figure of a woman stepped out onto the terrace below. She didn’t
have to look up for him to know that it was her, her steps eager with anticipation as she walked toward disappointment. As
sorry as he was for it, Richard knew that it was for the best. He waited until she was out of sight and was just about to
turn away from the window when someone else exited the house. Richard peered down at the man who was presently crossing the
terrace with brisk steps, the back of his neck pricking as he recognized Rotridge. And he was heading straight after Lady
Eleanor. Hell and damnation!
Chapter 5
Mary’s cloak swirled around her legs as she hurried across the west lawn in the direction of the folly. The night air was
a little chillier than it had been the previous evening for the ball. It climbed up her legs and hugged her shoulders. Little
did it help that the soles of her slippers were so thin that she might as well have been walking barefoot for all the good
they did in keeping her toes warm.
Approaching a fallen column, partly