Page 9 of A Duchess to Reclaim (The Devil’s Masquerade #2)

CHAPTER NINE

“I f you appeared this nervous in the red rooms, no wonder you drew attention to yourself,” Dominic muttered, appearing by Amelia’s side.

His hand slid along her back, and with it came a spark of heat that nearly made her gasp.

It had been several days since he’d left her panting and trembling with need in the sunroom and her body had still yet to recover. Her nights had been plagued by feverish dreams with the darkest of acts; leaving her with no sleep and emphasized her discomfort. But that wasn’t why she was nervous.

“I do not get nervous at the Devil’s Masquerade, Your Grace,” Amelia said quietly under her breath, looking over their sea of guests. “It is where my heart feels most free. This-”

She paused, waving a hand toward the party, “- is my hell.”

Dominic chuckled, chuckled at her, and of all things, leaned down to kiss her temple. A show, no doubt, to their guests that they were a dedicated couple.

“If you would have been more careful we could have avoided this,” he murmured, making lazy strokes with his finger at her lower back. “Perhaps you should remember that in the future.”

Amelia’s eyes began to narrow with despise, but she stopped herself before her full snarl could set upon her face. They had an act to perform tonight, and she would be damned if she was the reason it was unbelievable.

As per his request, she had laid out the party to his exact specifications. The rooms were assigned to different party activities. They had a cigar room, a ladies card room, the gathering salon, and the ballroom; all of which had live music. There were also several game being coordinated on the lawn, for those to spend their time in the evening sun.

The vittles and libations were also made to the order. Delicate, delightful little treats that barely needed a single bite to accomplish, and small glasses of fresh lemonade and sparkling white wine.

The London house was even decorated with the season’s acceptable colors; a powder blue, pearl white, and sandy brown. She’d had a new dress made to match. A white satin base with a golden lace overlay on the skirt, and a powder blue bodice. Not a stitch of her favorite color was to be found- only serving to make her more uncomfortable.

Still, she thought Dominic no one was surely more uncomfortable than Dominic. He too had given her orders to have a suit tailored to match hers, and seeing him outside his usual dark colors gave her just the tiniest taste of revenge. He was trying to hide it; trying to pretend he didn’t care. But she’d caught him tugging at his pale blue cravat twice and fisting the edges of his sandy-brown jacket to straighten an imaginary crease. The pale colors did nothing for his dark hair or silver eyes; making him appear almost… normal.

Good, Amelia thought. If she had to suffer, at least he was suffering a little too. She smiled at the idea, and reached up a hand to wave down to one of the guests who was waving up to her- a lady’s name she couldn’t recall, but a face she recognized as one who had once adored gossiping about Amelia’s failed first marriage.

“How long do we have to do this for?” She asked through her smile.

“Until we put any and all rumors of you straying from me to bed,” Dominic replied in the same fashion.

“And how are we to do that?” Amelia asked with a sigh.

“We pretend we are a happy, normal couple, and put any unsavory questions to bed with a smile and rational explanation. And if that does not work, I pull them aside and make them aware that their darkest secrets are mine to do with as I please.”

She glanced at him. He’d spoken so softly, so normally, as if he hadn’t just spoken of vengeance but of the weather.

“You’ve done this before,” she said, realization dawning on her.

“I have done what I needed to win,” Dominic replied, returning her glance. “And I always win.”

“Now smile dear,” he instructed, taking her hand. “I am about to make our welcome speech.”

He then gestured to the nearby servant, who rang a bell. The crowded foyer came to a silence as all of their guests looked up toward them. Everyone had come.

“Friends,” Dominic shouted, his tone more cordial than she’d ever heard it, “My beautiful wife and I thank you deeply for attending our little soiree. The Duchess and I welcome you into our home. Today we celebrate many things…”

A round of surprisingly loud applause went through the air after Dominic finished his speech, as if the people below had never once spoken ill words of her behind her back. Before she knew it Amelia and Dominic were walking into the crowd, being parted by the guests that eagerly waited to talk to them.

“I’ve got you,” Rose whispered, pressing herself against Amelia’s side as a group of ladies came toward them.

“As do I,” Theo promised, appearing at her other side.

Amelia gave her friends a smile of appreciation, and though her entire body rebelled against it, she went into the fray, and started conversing.

* * *

“We’re midway through this gaudy ruse. What have you heard?” Dominic asked, shutting his study’s door.

With a simple motion of his hand he’d rounded up the spies he had circulating the party and they all had reported to the location as told.

“Some are conflicted,” Eve answered first. “I heard some ladies say that there must have been a mistake regarding Her Grace being spotted at the Devil’s Masquerade. They are now assured of her innocence, after appearing so beautiful and composed today.”

“And the others?” Dominic asked. Eve blushed, but answered.

“Others say that this party is but a mere attempt to cover a blemish, Your Grace. That Her Grace was ruined by her previous betrothed, and ruined is all she’ll ever be. Some have even said…”

Eve’s words trailed off and Dominic tensed.

“Out with it,” he commanded.

“Some have said that our mistress is even being paid to attend the Devil’s Masquerade as an entertainer.”

Fury flared through Dominic’s veins, but his iron will tampered it.

“Ada? What have you heard?” He asked, turning to her.

“Similar remarks, Your Grace,” Ada answered, “though more so those that incline our mistress toward innocence. And one rumor of you.”

“Proceed,” he granted.

“That you left the country because your mistress abroad had a child,” she reported.

Dominic barked out a laugh, unfazed by the rumor. It wasn’t the first time something like that had been said and he doubted that it would be the last. Many men disliked his ability to gain what they could not. That sort could be handled easily.

“Their names?” He asked, and Ada delivered them. Eve then gave her list as well, and Dominic quickly jotted them down.

“Felix, anything?” He then asked, turning to the manservant.

Felix gave him a wary glance.

“No reports on rumors, Your Grace, but something should be mentioned of the Duchess,” he replied.

Dominic’s brows drew down. They’d made it halfway through the party so far, and although he’d been busy making his own headway, every time he’d looked over at Amelia she’d seemed cheerful and successful.

“Well, don’t keep me waiting,” he insisted.

“I believe she’s fading, Your Grace,” Felix replied. “She is starting to look most uncomfortable. I was sure there were even tears in her eyes at one point.”

Concern, strange and new, rippled through Dominic. He’d known she hadn’t wanted to do this, but tears?

“Did anyone else see?” He demanded.

“I don’t believe so, Your Grace, one of her friends was quick to cover her so she could dry her eyes,” Felix replied.

Dominic gave a single nod.

“I’ll take care of it,” he stated. “Go, get back to your work.”

His servants bowed , and after being left alone, Dominic took a moment to himself. He’d grown quite well at balancing the Duke and the brute within him, and now, it was time to practice the delicate art of performing both. He studied the names, drew in a deep breath, fixed a handsome smile on his face, and returned to the party.

One by one he visited his targets, putting on a show of absolute decorum as he approached with all respect. Then, when the moment was perfect, he leaned in and sought his vengeance. He whispered into their ears like a lover, letting them know he was aware of each of their darkest secrets.

How is your footman, Lady Harley? The one you bring to your bed every third Thursday of the month.

Your husband misses you, Lady Stark, perhaps I can speak with him about leaving his mistress’s bed on your behalf?

Your debt at the underground salon has grown quite high, Lady Chilton. Perhaps I could speak to your husband about it for you?

A twisted glee filled him as he watched the happy looks of superiority slacken and pale with each fact he delivered. That was the thing about him. He did not trade in rumors, but in facts, and he had enough to damn them all.

“Pray you keep that to yourself, Your Grace.”

“Your Grace I beseech you, what do you mean?”

“I am at your mercy, Your Grace, please do not speak further of this!”

Their pleas all came to him whispered and hurried; a look of stark fear on their faces.

“Say no more of my wife’s falsities, and we are settled,” he advised them all.

And oh, how quickly those gossiping hens changed their tunes.

He waited another half hour, carrying on a half-hearted conversation with Hugo and Everett as he watched the ladies that had just been destroying his wife’s reputation now flock to her side with praises.

“What have you done?” Hugo asked, catching Dominic’s intent stare.

Dominic sipped from his drink.

“I do not know what you are talking about,” Dominic answered smoothly.

Hugo raised a brow.

“Mhmm.”

Everett turned the conversation toward his new whiskey distribution business in a moment of stunning sobriety, but Dominic kept his eyes on his wife. He waited for the tense expression on her face to slide into something more gleeful, but it never came. She still appeared as anxious as ever to be among the ton again; even with her friends by her side. Fidgeting and frightened, just as she had been the night he’d purchased her from auction. As he watched her grow paler by the second, he realized he needed to intervene.

Excusing himself, Dominic left his friends and made his way toward his wife.

“Pardon me, Ladies,” he said politely, giving them all charming smiles as he approached Amelia.

He held his hand out to her, tilting his head in a slight bow.

“It dawned on me that I have not danced with my beautiful wife, and that simply will not do.”

Amelia looked at him, eyes strangely glazed and narrowed as his hand remained outstretched to her.

Play along, he silently demanded, his eyes tensing just enough to convey the message. Amelia forced a smile and finally slipped a hand into his.

“Of course, husband. I would be utterly delighted,” she said sweetly, allowing him to pull her away.

Hushed murmurs surrounded them as Lords and Ladies alike turned their heads to watch them go to the dance floor.

“You have to get ahold of yourself,” he murmured, spinning her out gently from him as the dance began.

Amelia drew in a ragged breath as she twirled back toward him, her small, free hand formed into a fist as it came into punching contact with his chest.

“I hate you for this,” she seethed quietly though her outward smile.

“That’s fine,” he murmured, pulling her into the dance.

He reached up to her fist, his larger hand easily unfurling her tight fingers, and held the hand tight. She tried to fight him, but one firm hand on her waist kept her from doing so.

“You wouldn’t believe the things I’ve heard about myself,” she whispered on. “Not just about the red rooms, but my previous engagement. Awful, despicable things. You promised I wouldn’t have to be around these people again.”

Dominic glanced up at the people around them, then back down to Amelia. If he had it his way he’d eviscerate them all right there with their truths with a public brutality. But that was not how their world worked. Stealth, patience, was required.

In his arms Amelia suddenly swayed against the music, her face growing deathly pale as another ragged breath drew from her lips. She was going to faint.

“Listen to me,” he whispered, taking total control of her steps, “Close your eyes, and picture yourself at the Devil’s Masquerade.”

* * *

“What?” Amelia hissed, her breaths growing more uneven. Her heart was hammering at an uneven pace; her stomach lurched and roiled in discomfort as the room closed in on her.

“Do it,” he demanded, and Amelia’s lashes fluttered shut.

“You are in the dark,” he whispered, his tone velvety and hypnotic in her ear. “In that gorgeous black dress of yours. Around you our masked friends stare in hunger and envy as they see you slide into my lap. They want you, respect you, for the utter vixen that you are. But it is my hands that slide over your waist and warm your loins.”

Amelia exhaled deeply through her lips, her trembling slowly starting to abate.

“Your hips move on mine, undulating with the music as you feel that dark sense of freedom take over you,” Dominic whispered on, his hands now guiding her in the steps. “Can you feel it? Feel how warm and alive all of your senses are?”

“Yes,” she breathed slowly, her heart beat starting to fall into its natural rhythm.

“Your seductive power springs free, and everyone watching wants you. I want you. And my fingertips begin to glide up your waist, your breasts, your throat,” Dominic’s deep voice whispered, carrying her through the dance.

She was just a body in his control now; moving in steps simply because he moved her there. The sounds of the party, the harsh, bright light; it all faded away as Dominic’s voice carried her to a place she felt in control and powerful.

“That’s it my little vixen,” he praised, sliding a hand up to the back of her neck, “Breathe for me. Move for me. You can do this. You can show them you are above them in every way.”

His fingers flexed at her neck, just enough to send a shot of pleasure straight down her spine and into her lower belly.

“Now open your eyes. Forget them. And dance with me.” Dominic commanded.

Amelia’s eyes fluttered open, feeling more herself than she had in days, and sweeping force of strength filled her as she met Dominic’s silver gaze. An absolute devilishly handsome grin slid slowly onto his lips as he watched her survive.

“There you are,” he whispered. “Now show me. Show them, what you have become.”

Amelia pulled in a smooth, even breath from her nostrils as she grasped properly onto Dominic’s hands, and as the music continued, she danced with utter grace and skill. Around them the whispers stopped as they began to hold their audience in rapt attention; everyone around them too curious, too transfixed to mutter another word.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

Dominic smirked.

“See what happens when you don’t toy with me? I can be quite helpful.”

Amelia let out a sarcastic laugh.

“ I toy with you , Your Grace?” She asked, letting him spin her around. “I am certain it is the other way around.”

“Are you still angry about the other night?” He asked, a smile twitching on his lips.

“You needed to be taught your lesson. You practically begged for it.”

Her anxiety now completely gone, Amelia felt that flare of usual annoyance she now associated with being in her husband’s presence.

“Next you’ll be saying I begged for your absence too,” she scoffed.

Dominic rose an amused brow.

“Did you not?” He mused. “You wanted freedom. I gave it to you. And look how you flourished. Even if you did make some mistakes.”

“It was not I that made mistakes,” she bit back quickly, then thought on his words. He now knew what she had been doing while he had been gone. But did not know what he had been in up in her absence.

“What were you doing while you were away, anyway? She asked in a teasing tone, “Visiting your willing international paramours?”

She’d expected him to scowl at her, but to her surprise, he chuckled almost ruefully.

“I do not need to go international to find willing paramours, darling wife,” he said so low only she could hear, “I was doing what I always do when I am abroad. Finding new business, making new connections. Discovering more powerful information.”

“That’s all you have been doing since you have returned as well,” she replied. “Do you not do anything else?”

The dance was ending soon, and though she’d hated that he’d pulled her to be center of attention, she was realizing that she didn’t want it to end yet.

“I prefer to dedicate my time to meaningful transactions,” he replied, taking her for a final spin.

“That is not all there is to life,” she replied.

“That is all mine is,” he replied as the song ended.

They came to stop, and Dominic lowered his head to kiss her hand.

“Even our marriage,” she murmured, watching him carefully.

He smirked, but did not reply.

“Go back to the party,” he commanded instead, his tone soft but firm. “Our work is almost finished.”

Amelia felt her anxiety rise again as she walked once more back into the fray. But this time, instead of hearing whispers of deceit, she heard nothing but praises.

Did they not look beautiful?

How refreshing to witness a couple in love.

I daresay those rumors about her former fiance seem quite unfounded.

Amelia looked at them oddly, wondering what it was that had changed. Then looked back at her husband. She’d seen him flittering about early. Leaning close to the women who had just been besmirching her name.

Had he said something to them? Done something? She wondered.

“That was a lovely dance, Amelia,” Seraphina praised as she returned to her friends.

“And you look much better,” Theo sighed, giving her a kind look.

“We were growing worried about you,” Rose remarked.

“I’m fine,” Amelia assured them with a smile.

“Good,” Seraphina sighed, “If you are feeling better I would like to introduce you to my married ladies’ group. We don’t meet often, but we…”

As Amelia half listened and agreed to meeting Seraphina’s new group, her attention turned back to Dominic. She hated him. For making her do this. For abandoning her. For the state he’d left her in the other night. And yet…through it all, she began to feel a glimmer of gratitude toward him.