Page 5 of A Duchess to Reclaim (The Devil’s Masquerade #2)

CHAPTER FIVE

Eleven Months Later

“I t has been a while since we have spoken, Dominic,” Tristan stated. “How goes your new life as a husband?”

“I would not know,” Dominic replied, his tone dismissive as he signed his signature for the hundredth time in the last hour, “I have been traveling up until yesterday, I only just arrived back.”

While it was true that his trade ventures had taken him out of the country for several months, what he left out was that he had received constant updates from his staff regarding the status of his new wife. According to them, she seemed to be doing well. Mrs. Morbate wrote flattering words regarding Amelia accepting the duties as Duchess. That she and her friends hosted dignitaries and his associates with grace and a welcoming air. He also knew that the conversation he had with Felton before departing was well taken and understood, for her sisters remained on a dedicated schedule of visiting Amelia on the weekends without fail.

Dominic pulled the next contract from the pile as he sat at his desk in the office of his London home, and read over the contents. There was much to do since his return. Work to catch up on, new deals to make. Word had reached him that Seraphina’s estranged father, the Duke of Caldermere, had passed, and that a relative of his would be taking the title.

The former Duke had refused to do business with him; cutting him out of trade deals that would be most lucrative to his territory. With the new heir in place, he hoped to remedy that. He was about to make his one-hundred-and-first signature when the contract was pulled beneath him, forcing him to scratch a long, black line of ink down the paper and onto the top of his desk.

His eyes shot up in a warning glare at Tristan, and a low growl of displeasure rumbled in his chest.

“Do you mind? I am trying to work. I have missed much while away on business,” he grit out.

“I do not mind, actually,” Tristan retorted, looking completely unbothered by Dominic’s warning glare. “Are you telling me that you have not seen your wife for a year?”

“I fail to see how that is any business of yours, Tristan,” Dominic stated, “She is well taken care of and that is all you need to know.”

“People are not pets or plants you just accrue and abandon, Dominic,” Tristan replied, his brows creasing. “ Especially women. They have needs, both physical and emotional!”

“And Amelia has the freedom to tend to those needs as desired as long as she uses discretion,” Dominic said as he rose to his feet and snatched the contract from Tristan’s hands.

“I cannot believe this,” Tristan sighed. “A year. You’ve been gone nearly a year this whole time? I thought you’d just been busy with work. I thought Theo would have told me that you had been absent from all those visits she pays to Amelia.”

“She probably didn’t tell you because you’ve become rather emotional for a man,” Dominic muttered, making his signature. Then in a clearer voice added, “And I have been busy with work. The deals I made in Italy, Spain, and France? I have contracts for exports from my Dukedom for a full decade. Contracts that will keep my people employed, with the ability to keep their coffers and their bellies full. I have gotten my percentage of destitutes in Ellsworth down to three percent because of what I have done. Are you saying that is not worthy work?”

Tristan’s brows rose as he muttered, “Three percent? Truly?”

“Shall I fetch my overseer for you?” Dominic asked sarcastically. “Have him bring in the numbers of last year’s census?”

Tristan gave him a look that screamed for him to be more sensible, only serving to further darken Dominic’s mood.

“What has become of you, Tristan?” He asked. “Your emotions are all over the place. Putting your nose in other’s people’s business has become worse than ever.”

Tristan sighed, suddenly looking weary, and sank into the chair across from Dominic.

“It is my mother,” he explained. “Her health continues to hang on by a thread. Theo is home even less now, and Seraphina, who used to come and help us often, is now at Vanderbilt with Hugo, her hands full with her own children.”

Dominic took a calming breath. Yes, he’d known about Lady Briarwood’s failing health. One of his many little spies had collected and sent the information to him while he was away. She’d been plagued by an unknown disease that affected not just the body, but the mind.

“I met a new type of physician in Milan. I will send for him if you wish,” Dominic offered.

Tristan’s shoulders slumped.

“Thank you,” his friend said quietly. “This…diseased, ailment- whatever, is tearing her apart. There are days when she screams at the servants to leave her be. Believes I am Father. Or does not recognize me at all. I want to be there for her, to help her, but taking over his responsibilities since he’s passed has kept me far too busy. I can’t seem to gain a proper hold on either and I- I feel like I’m slipping away too.”

Dominic let loose a sigh, and finally put down his pen, willing to put his work on pause for the first time. Yes, he’d heard that, too. His friend was not doing well. At all. His mother’s health was failing with some strange illness, and his father had passed before Seraphina’s twins were born of a burst appendix.

“Tristan that sounds horrible,” he conceded. “I am sorry to hear this.”

Tristan rubbed a hand over his face, looking more tired than ever.

“It is not just that. It is Theo. I fear she is traversing into dangerous territory.”

Dominic’s body suddenly grew rigid. That was something he had not heard. And certainly something he should have if Theo was staying consistently at Ellsworth.

“If she is constantly with my wife I do not understand how that could be true,” Dominic murmured, feeling his anger tick up once more.

“Perhaps that is why I was so bothered when you revealed to me that you have been absent from her,” Tristan confessed, glancing up at Dominic with worry-filled eyes. “I have heard rumors. I thought that Amelia had been with you. That you had gone together. And though I was uncomfortable with the idea of Theo being there, too, I was at least comforted in knowing that you were there. In case any trouble unfolded. You have…you have a way of taking care of things. Of making issues disappear.”

Dominic’s brow furrowed as he sat on the edge of his seat. Were his little spies keeping something from him?

“Speak plainly, Tristan. No more subtleties.”

Tristan looked back at him, his eyes growing dark as a grim line settled on his mouth.

“The Devil’s Masquerades,” Tristan replied. “It is being said that Amelia and Theo, possibly, and Ophelia and Rose too, have been spotted at them.”

Fury trembled and seeped into Dominic’s muscles, sending them into a rigid tension.

“Tell me everything you know,” Dominic demanded, his tone low and deadly.

“ Now.”

* * *

“Oh, Theo,” Amelia whispered worriedly under her breath. “What on earth were you thinking?”

A nervous tremor passed through Amelia’s arms as she once more reached into her bag and opened her small mirror to inspect herself. These parties- strictly for the willing- were a far cry from the debased auction she’d found herself forced into nearly a year ago, yet her mind still frayed slightly when approaching. The last thing she ever wanted was to be there again.

She shook her head subtly and focused on her reflection; needing to make sure everything was perfectly in place. That she looked nothing like herself. It was, as always, a requirement for parties such as this.

In the mirror she studied her black kohl rimmed eyes that bled perfectly into the black cat-eye mask she wore. The clay powder she used to disguise her porcelain skin was still intact, giving her a warm, sun-kissed glow; shimmering thanks to the powdered pearl she’d added to it. Her cheeks were tinted with a delicate flush, and her lips, painted a deep shade of crimson, appeared most exquisite. With practice, she’d learned techniques to make her lips look poutier, plumper, so that she looked completely unlike herself.

Carefully, she touched the slick backed updo that held her cascading curls almost in a tail; which were framed perfectly by the delicate, branchlike black horns of her mask. As usual for such parties, she’d also forsaken her favorite purples for a tighter black dress that hugged her figure in a most seductive fashion. A calling card, she imagined, that she always knew where she was and what she was doing. Even if at first she hadn’t.

“We have arrived, madam,” Her driver called as the carriage came to a stop.

“Thank you, Salty,” Amelia called back, drawing on her black silk cloak.

Though she was referred to as “Your Grace” and would have her door opened for her under normal circumstances, things operated differently when she was attending a Devil’s Masquerade night. There were no proper addresses, no proof that she was royalty, a guest, or a worker. It was one of the many rules if one wanted to maintain an invitation to the devious and elusive parties. No one was to know anything about who one was truly was in their other life. They were all to be wrapped in mystery.

After successfully procuring an invitation nearly ten months ago, Amelia and her friends had gone excitedly and willingly to these parties. However, tonight was different. She was going because her little spies- well, her and her husband’s little spies, had discovered that Theo was going to tonight’s party alone. Had been to others on her own. And that her caution in being nameless and faceless was starting to slip.

Amelia slid herself gracefully from the carriage seat and out into the empty, quiet, and unassuming street, and walked with her hood up and head down to the lone man that stood outside the door to the townhouse that blended perfectly with the rest on the street. Like the others it appeared clean and mundane.

“Welcome, Madam Artemis,” the man murmured, bowing his head slightly before knocking in a specific order on the door.

“Thank you, Sulta,” Amelia murmured back, stepping through the dark threshold.

She walked the normal few paces in total darkness and silence, her head raising elegantly as she drew back her shoulders and removed her hood; approaching another threshold where a masked servant stood on either end of the red-curtained entrance.

One accepted her cloak, then together they parted the curtains for her as they bowed, and she stepped into the Devil’s Masquerade.

Soft, undulating music greeted her ears and a warm, red light bathed over her as she stepped into the front room of the party. A hum of sensual excitement skittered over her skin as she stepped into the place where her freedom had soared.

People; some in couples, others in groups, all dressed in divine dark colors and masks, danced and clustered as they were carried by the hypnotic music and provided libations. The parties were centered around freedom and lowering one’s inhibitions, and everyone who received an invitation expected such.

Amelia moved with a feline grace through the room, nodding to those who raised their glasses to her. She had become rather respected in this circle; known not for the acts she committed within such walls, but the wit and sharp tongue she displayed when conversing such matters.

She had grown much in the past year. In a way, had come into her own regality now that rumors and sundering were worries for her. Still, she had yet to find the right partner to dally with. Her purity, ironically enough, still meant something to her, and she was not willing to give it to someone lightly. Even if her husband did not care. She did.

Amelia searched the rooms slowly, careful not to draw too much attention to herself, and finally found Theo. Shock and discomfort rippled through her as she saw her friend had slid her mask up to her forehead as she sat on a gentleman’s lap, her arm wrapped around his shoulders as he traced a lazy finger over her abdomen as they quietly talked.

Amelia slid her eyes toward the others in the room, and noticed that several were watching Theo as well; probably shocked that someone was openly breaking one of the most important house rules. Despite her frustration though, Amelia walked to her with her usual laidback grace, and reached down, sensually touching Theo’s chin and directing it to look at her.

“Calypso, my darling,” she purred, “How lovely to see you here. Might I have a word?”

Theo’s eyes grew wide in the dim, crimson light, clearly startled that Amelia was there, but she quickly recovered, and smiled as she rose from the man’s lap. As she did so, Amelia reached for her friend’s mask, and smoothly pulled it back down over her face.

“Excuse us, Dionysus,” Theo said, her tone seductive as she joined Amelia by her side.

The man nodded, obviously undeterred by the interruption, and beckoned toward a group of women. Two came forward willingly, each perching on his knees, and he resumed his evening without another word.

Silently, Amelia and Theo walked side by side until Amelia found an empty room, and the two slipped inside.

“I had hoped it was not true,” Amelia began immediately, closing the door behind them.

“That you were not coming to these parties alone.”

“So what if I am?” Theo asked, her tone immediately defensive as she pulled off her mask.

Amelia stopped her immediately, all but slapping it back onto her face.

“ Keep. Your Mask. On,” Amelia ground out. “Whether we are alone or not. That is a rule of this place and one of good thumb in general.”

“Why does it matter if everyone invited here is sworn to secrecy?” Theo retorted.

Amelia’s eyes narrowed, shocked at her friend’s immature response.

“How did we find out about these parties, Theo?” She asked. “Did a masked person come to tell us? No, we found out through gossip that they exist. People talk, whether they are supposed to or not, and if they are willing to talk about the parties they are certainly willing to talk about a woman who is openly breaking the rules!”

Theo’s lips drew into a pout and her shoulders slumped.

“I know,” she sighed.

“Furthermore, we all promised each other we would never come to the Masquerade alone,” Amelia went on, her anger and fear unfurling slowly.

“I said I know!” Theo snapped, her teeth bared as she cast a sharp glance at Amelia through her mask. With the feline shape of it, her friend looked downright predatory.

Amelia reached for Theo’s hand, attempting to soothe her, but she shook it off.

“Why are you doing this, Theo?” Amelia said. “Why are you putting yourself in danger like this? Not just with the rumors, but with your person? You know what goes on here, you know how persuasive such men that are invited here can be? We come together to keep one another in check. To make sure the seduction we receive does not take us too far.”

“I just need this, Amelia. I need to feel free, fully free, for a little while!” Theo replied in a rushed whisper. “I want- I need a few hours every few weeks to not care about anything than my desires.”

Sympathy poured through Amelia as she watched her dear friend fall apart. She knew that Theo’s mother was fading; that she was straddling two lines. One between life and death. The other between sanity and lunacy. It had been hard on Theo, on Tristan too. She had hoped that providing Theo with an open invitation to Ellsworth Manor, she would feel that freedom she so craved- but it was obviously not enough.

“We will figure something else out,” Amelia said gently.

She reached out, and this time Theo did not push her away, but let her friend wrap her arms around her shoulders. She slumped into Amelia’s embrace, quiet sob racking her body.

“This just cannot be the way,” Amelia added, rubbing soothing circles into her friend’s back.

“I know,” Theo whispered through her sobs. “I know.”

Amelia held Theo for a long time, letting her friend get her tears out before they eventually pulled away. Amelia then reached into her handbag, pulled out a kerchief- the one Dominic had given her to wipe her own tears years ago, and dabbed the runny, ruined cosmetics that had dribbled down Theo’s exposed chin.

“Come home with me tonight,” Amelia encouraged. “You can help me with the new aviary I am putting in. Then when it is finished we will both come back to London and stay with your mother for a while.”

Theo nodded, and with her more composed, Amelia faced the door to the room and opened it. She was greeted by a hulking form of man standing there, his hand braced to turn the knob. His silver eyes flashed with rage behind his black devil’s mask, and sculpted lips formed into a smile. Amelia’s heart nearly stopped as she looked up him; her mind racing as she tried to find her words.

“Hello, wife,” Dominic’s deep tone snarled.