Page 51 of Beneath the Devil’s Mask (The Hidden Hearts Collection #4)

The duke gave her a thin smile. Ignoring his grandfather, Mandell held out his hand to Anne.

After a brief hesitation, she slipped her fingers into his grasp.

Mandell fought a strong urge to pull her to his side, drawing both her and Norrie into a protective circle that excluded the hard-visaged old man.

But he contented himself with carrying Anne’s fingers to his lips, smiling into her eyes.

He noticed the duke’s hand tighten upon the handle of his cane.

“I am sorry that I am late, my lady,” Mandell said. “I was unavoidably detained.”

“That is quite all right.” Anne withdrew her hand, looking flustered under the duke’s stern frown. “Your grandfather happened by and—and ...”

“And has endeavored to keep you suitably entertained?” Mandell’s voice had an edge to it. He met the duke’s gaze with challenge in his own. “You perceive me all agog to hear what His Grace has been saying to you.”

“I don’t think ...” Anne trailed off, casting a significant glance at Norrie. As though sensing the tension amongst the adults, the little girl had fallen silent, burying her hands in the lengths of her pony’s mane.

“It is time that I was on my way,” the duke said. “Perhaps you would care to escort me back to my carriage, Mandell.”

“It would be my greatest pleasure, sir,” Mandell grated.

He watched as his grandfather took his leave of Anne, sweeping her a courtly bow. But then the duke was the soul of chivalry. Mandell had no doubt His Grace had exercised the greatest of politeness while shredding Anne’s heart and pride to ribbons.

Mandell pressed the pony’s reins into Anne’s hand. Her eyes were full of trouble and a deep sorrow that made him long to curse his grandfather. He wished he could offer her some reassurance, but he was not enough in command of himself to do so.

He strode after his grandfather, the two of them walking in tense silence back to His Grace’s carriage.

Mandell barely contained his mounting rage until they were out of earshot.

Then he rounded upon the old man, saying tersely, “How did you know to come here today? How the devil did you know I would be meeting here with Anne? Have you set spies upon me now?”

“That would hardly be necessary, Mandell. You and your lady have not exactly been discreet, choosing to hold your lovers’ trysts in such a public locale.”

“Lovers’ tryst!” Mandell choked. “With Anne’s daughter present?”

The duke’s lip curled. “That makes your conduct all the more distasteful.”

Mandell clenched his hand. For a moment he almost forgot the duke’s advancing years and relation to himself. Taking a cleansing breath to steady himself, he said, “And is this the sort of muck you have been spouting to Anne?”

“No. I merely took the opportunity to offer her the sort of advice her own father would have done were he still alive.”

“And which is?”

“To put an end to whatever sort of liaison she has formed with you. Lady Fairhaven has always been noted for her virtue. She is far too good to be your mistress.”

“But not good enough to be my wife!”

“I believe we had already settled that point in our last conversation, Mandell. Lady Fairhaven understands the inequities in your situations even if you do not.”

“Anne is a damn sight too understanding,” Mandell snapped. “What would you say if I told you that I agree we are unequal? I realize more all the time that the lady is quite far above me.”

“I would say that your passion in this matter alarms me, Mandell. I raised you to have a better awareness of what you owe to the name I have given you.”

“You raised me to be a cold-hearted, unfeeling bastard, just like yourself.”

Something flickered in the old man’s eyes, something that might have been pain in a countenance less icy.

He clutched his walking stick, the lines about his mouth deepening as he stalked the rest of the way to his carriage.

One of the bewigged footmen sprang forward at once to let down the steps and open the door.

The duke paused long enough to command, “You will end the connection, Mandell. I endured seeing your mother cast her life away on a mesalliance. I will not tolerate you making the same mistake. I brook no interference with my wishes.”

“That is but one more way in which we are alike, Your Grace. I tolerate no interference, either.”

Their eyes locked in one final clash of wills.

Then Mandell turned and strode away, without glancing back.

He heard the coachman give the signal and the clatter of wheels as the carriage lurched into motion and vanished down the lane, leaving that part of the park silent except for the twittering of some sparrows.

But the peace of the afternoon seemed irrevocably shattered.

Mandell started back to where Anne waited for him beneath the trees. His gelding was tied off to a low-lying branch, but Norrie and her groom were nowhere in sight.

Anne had watched the entire scene, observing with dismay Mandell’s white-hot rage, the old man’s rigid disdain.

Anne had always known of His Grace of Windermere.

One could not help having an awareness of a personage of such rank and such regal dignity, but the duke had always seemed far removed from the sphere of Anne’s quiet existence.

Even as she had grown closer to Mandell, she had not thought about the duke’s role as his grandfather.

But then, she reflected ruefully, she had not allowed herself to think about much of anything these past weeks.

She had learned to measure her life in moments instead of days, moments of strolling through the park with Mandell, of hearing him delight Norrie with legends of water nymphs and tree dryads, of glances exchanged above the child’s head, of smiles both secret and tender.

Of moments more private when Mandell played his music just for Anne, notes that conjured a majestic passion trapped within Anne’s soul that only Mandell’s caress could release.

Moments when his eyes appeared darkened with a power beyond desire, when her heart fluttered with foolish, unspoken hopes, moments of a warm, romantic spring that seemed likely to spin on forever.

But it had taken only a few well-chosen words from His Grace of Windermere to bring the magic to an end.

Anne rubbed her arms as though she had taken a sudden chill as she watched the duke’s carriage vanish through the trees.

Mandell strode back to her across the grass, his face still gaunt with anger.

“Where’s Eleanor?” he demanded.

“I asked James to take her back to the lake. I thought it best if they gave the pony some exercise.”

“Very wise of you.” Mandell’s eyes were full of such ironic understanding, Anne felt the color rise in her cheeks.

“Mandell, I never realized that I might be the cause of such discord between you and your grandfather. I am so deeply sorry.”

“Damn it. Don’t you dare, Anne Fairhaven!”

Anne retreated an involuntary step before Mandell’s blaze of fury. “Don’t you even think of apologizing for what is none of your fault simply because that old devil—”

Mandell spun away from her, pressing one hand to his brow, struggling for command of himself. Anne had never seen the ice-cool Mandell lose such control of his temper. He presented a stark figure set against the soft green of the park, the sunlight dappling between the trees.

Anne had often perceived him thus, standing so solitary, possessing no close ties to anyone or anything.

She realized that was in part what drew her to him, the sense that she might indeed have something to offer a man who always seemed too much alone.

She had forgotten that he was also a marquis, an heir to a dukedom.

No matter what Mandell might say, she felt responsible for his quarrel with his grandfather.

Going to him, she laid her hand gently upon Mandell’s arm, seeking to mend some of the damage she had inadvertently caused.

“My lord, I am sure the duke meant no harm. Your grandfather has been hearing rumors about the illicit nature of our relationship, and it worried him.”

“His Grace has never fretted over much about my lack of morals before.”

“He seems to perceive some difference in our affair.”

“And so it is different.” Mandell gave a harsh bark of laughter, pulling away from her.

“I don’t know what I am about myself these days.

Meandering through the park, stopping by to take tea with you, bringing dolls to your daughter instead of diamonds to adorn your neck.

This is not exactly my customary procedure with a mistress, Anne. ”

Anne regarded him sadly. “Would it have been better if you could have set me up in an establishment, bought me carriages and expensive presents? Would you have preferred our relationship to be more common?”

He stared at her for a long hard moment. “No,” he said at last, his eyes softening a little. “It has all been perfect just as it was.”

Was. Anne tried not to allow that single word to sink too deep into her heart,

“Exactly what did my grandfather say to you?” Mandell demanded. “How badly did he insult you? I suppose he took great pains pointing out how unsuitable he finds you as a candidate for a marchioness.”

“No, there was no need for him to do so. There has never been any question of marriage between us, Mandell, and so I told him.” Anne attempted to suppress the wistfulness in her voice. “His Grace spoke only of the improprieties of a liaison such as ours. He expressed a great concern for you.”

“For me or for the precious family honor?”