Page 19

O f all the parties, balls, galas, and soirees Macie had attended in London, she counted Lady Fenwick’s masquerade as the highlight. Mingling with the guests at the magnificent costume ball, Macie engaged in a lively discussion of Jane Austen’s works with a strutting peacock, danced with a rather bashful tiger, and made the acquaintance of a vivacious American suffragette dressed as a fairy tale princess with shiny slippers designed to resemble glass. The orchestra’s stirring notes filled the great hall of Fenwick House with smooth melodies, while the finger sandwiches and beverages were delectable. The guests were attired in all manner of ensembles, decked out as charming creatures, regal heroines, and the occasional dastardly villain. All in all, the countess’s guests appeared to be thoroughly enjoying the grand affair.

Pity her grumpy bodyguard was perhaps the sole exception. Finn had spurned the notion of an elaborate costume—not that Macie could blame him, especially given Nell’s rather insistent suggestion that he don tights and tunic to play Robin Hood to Macie’s Maid Marian. Instead, he’d chosen to dress as a character who might’ve blended in with civilized men throughout the city; his version of Dr. Henry Jekyll was more dapper than she’d ever envisioned. His midnight black wool suit was precisely tailored to show off his broad shoulders, while his burgundy silk waistcoat and silvery-gray tie added an appealing vibrance to the ensemble. Quite the handsome mad scientist, indeed. He’d caught the attention of many a female decked out in tiaras, feathers, and even the occasional set of fairy wings. Such a shame his face bore the pained expression of a man whose shoes were a bit too tight.

At the moment, he was engaged in discussion with a tycoon whose carved features were set in a look that appeared equally pinched. Trenton McAvoy was tall and lean, perhaps a bit older than Finn, given the few strands of silver marking his appealingly silky dark hair. Dressed as a younger, undeniably handsome imitation of Buffalo Bill, complete with a mustache that was most definitely not an imitation, the American industrialist cut a striking figure amongst London’s elite dandies.

Observing them from across the room, Macie felt suddenly restless. Though she was enjoying the sights and sounds of the affair, the night was not going according to plan. Nearly two hours had passed, and Finn had made little effort to spend time with her, let alone provide the noble nobs any reason to think twice before seeking her attention. Why, already that evening, a boisterous baron in a toga that bared his bony knees had attempted to entice her into a stroll to the garden, supposedly to enjoy a pristine view of the night sky. Finn’s well-timed approach and fierce glower had sent the long-legged fop scurrying in search of a more amenable heiress—preferably one who was not accompanied by a rather imposing escort whose scowl might send even a warrior running for cover.

Not long after the lanky lord had abandoned his efforts, another heiress hunter had made his move. The newly minted viscount had been far more persistent than Lord Drayton. And ever so much more unpleasant. Dressed as Shakespeare—or some other gent who wore a ruff about his neck—he appeared to be deep in his cups. Emboldened by the spirits, he had eyed Macie from head to toe, then uttered a bold declaration.

“It’s high time you took yourself off the shelf.”

The gall of the man! Macie’s cheeks had burned at the smug lord’s grating words.

She’d spotted Finn as he closed the distance between them, his scowl already in full force. “If I were ye, I’d think twice before saying another word.” He stood within arm’s reach of the viscount’s reddened face.

“This does not concern you,” the arrogant sot ground out.

Finn cocked a brow. “Ye think not?”

The viscount gulped a breath. “This may be a misunderstanding.” He tugged agitatedly at his ruff as if suddenly the neckpiece was too tight.

“Indeed,” Finn agreed. “Ye will not speak to the lady in that manner. If I hear another word from yer mouth, ye’ll answer to me. Do I need to say more?”

The boor shook his head. “That won’t be necessary.”

“I thought as much,” Finn said.

The viscount had slunk away, his eyes still radiating anger. With the situation under control, Finn offered a few stiff mumbles of conversation, spotted a man he recognized from his time at university, and politely left Macie to her own devices while Nell chatted with a gallant buccaneer.

Now, nearly an hour later, Macie spotted Finn carrying on a robust discussion with a man dressed as a cowboy. Her mood brightened as a server bearing a fully laden silver tray crossed her path and offered a flute of champagne. She happily accepted, then sipped generously from the crystal glass as she debated her next move.

Perhaps she should invite herself into Finn’s conversation. At the very least, she might enjoy a bit of flirtation with the handsome cattleman. There’d be no harm in that, now would there?

Navigating the crush, Macie’s progress halted when she bumped into the back of yet another guest attired as if he’d stepped out of the American frontier. A large hat added to his already considerable height. Good heavens, another aficionado of Buffalo Bill. Since William Cody had brought his Wild West show to London a few years earlier, the rough-and-ready showman had inspired guests at many a masquerade.

The man turned and tipped his cowboy hat. “Good evening, Miss Mason,” Peter Aylesworth said with a smile.

“It’s good to see you. I wasn’t aware you were acquainted with Lady Fenwick.”

Macie took a step back, gazing up at him. Something about the rugged costume brought out an air of masculinity in the man he usually kept tightly controlled.

“Her brother and I met while we studied in Italy. He is currently excavating ruins that predate Caesar.”

“How exciting.”

Aylesworth nodded. “I’m looking forward to my return. The research fascinates me.”

“I can well imagine.”

“I have some matters to attend to in London, but I will travel to Athens by the end of the year.”

“What I would not give to bring my camera to such a site.”

“That might be arranged. Our team could utilize your talents to document our discoveries.”

“Oh, don’t tease me so cruelly,” she said lightly. “I cannot imagine that I might take part in such an expedition.”

“Miss Mason, I am quite serious.” A thin smile played on his mouth. “A photographer of your ability would be vital to chronicle the excavation.” His brow furrowed. “Of course, you would need a traveling companion.”

“I imagine Nell would be excited to take part in the journey.”

Glancing over at her friend—who had moved on from her buccaneer to flirt with Finn’s American acquaintance—he shook his head. “I am thinking of someone in their maturity, an older woman with experience in the field.”

“Of course. I do understand.” Macie said. “I must say, the very thought of documenting an antiquities exploration is quite exciting. Perhaps I shall pursue a journey.”

“I hope you will consider it.”

“You’ve definitely given me something to think about.” Glancing over Mr. Aylesworth’s shoulder, she spotted Finn as he made his way through the crush.

“You would be a true asset,” Aylesworth said, slanting Finn a glance.

She flashed a brief smile. “It would be the adventure of a lifetime.”

Finn acknowledged Professor Aylesworth with a curt nod. “I hadn’t expected to see the likes of ye here.”

“I might say the same, Caldwell. Who twisted your arm to suffer through a masquerade?”

Finn’s gaze lit on Macie. “Only Miss Mason would be capable of such a feat.”

“But at least my pride is intact.” He shot Aylesworth an assessing glance. “Buffalo Bill, eh?”

“Something like that.” Aylesworth tipped his overly large hat. “I borrowed this gargantuan thing from a colleague. I’ve no idea why he would have such a garment, but it was preferable to my first idea.”

“And what was that? An intrepid explorer?” Macie asked.

He shook his head. “Tossing a blasted sheet over my head and traipsing about as a ghost.”

“You might have used the sheet as a toga,” Macie suggested.

“Clever.” Aylesworth said with an appealing grin.

Given the look on Finn’s face, he did not agree with Macie’s suggestion. “I, for one, commend ye for yer decision not to subject us to the sight of yer bony arms,” he said.

Aylesworth smirked. “I might’ve forgone the costume entirely. As you did.”

“I’ll have ye know I am in costume.” Finn tugged at his lapels. “A tragic villain if ever there was one.”

Aylesworth turned to Macie. “He’s serious?”

“Indeed,” she said. “You might say he’s quite mad.”

“A mad scientist?” Aylesworth plopped the hat back onto his head. “Victor Frankenstein, I presume. Or perhaps the sinister professor who predicted I would never succeed in the field?”

Macie shook her head. “Do you give up, Mr. Aylesworth?”

“I surrender,” he said. “But only to you, Miss Mason.”

She bit back a grin. “Finn, if you would be so kind as to end the suspense.”

“Henry Jekyll,” he said, his tone gruff. “Or, if ye prefer, bloody Mr. Hyde.”

“He is the more interesting of the two, isn’t he?” Aylesworth replied dryly.

Finn nodded. “The dangerous half of a man always is.”

Aylesworth glanced past them as a female voice called his name. “Blast it, she’s here.”

“She?” Macie repeated curiously.

“Lady Fenwick’s aunt. She’s been after me to appraise her collection.” He sighed. “I’d hoped she’d was still on the Continent.”

“Ye could always hide behind that blasted hat.”

“It’s too late for that.” Peter Aylesworth turned back to Macie. “I meant what I said, Miss Mason. Do give it some thought. I trust you know how to reach me.”

“I do,” she said. “I expect I’ll soon be in touch.”

“Believe me, I will be waiting,” he said. “Try to keep out of trouble, Caldwell.” Tipping his hat again, he took his leave, heading to meet the bird-thin woman whose calling of his name seemed a summons.

When Aylesworth was well out of earshot, Finn leaned closer, lowering his voice to a conspiratorial whisper.

“Am I to assume ye’ve changed yer mind about chasing off every man between the ages of twenty and eighty?”

“Not at all.” She shot him a little scowl. “Why would you even consider the thought?”

“Ye didn’t look like a woman who wanted me to chase off the intrepid professor.”

“I presume you are referring to Mr. Aylesworth.”

“The one and only.”

“As a matter of fact, I was enjoying our discussion. He is a fascinating man.”

Finn took a drink from a passing server and regarded Macie with a look she couldn’t read. “Fascinating, eh?”

“He’s brilliant, you know. My grandfather held him in high regard.” Macie took a sip of her champagne. “He is a true scholar and quite an explorer.”

“A man who knows how to embark on the adventure of a lifetime, eh?”

“Ah, you were paying attention.”

He nodded. “So, what did the man want ye to think about?”

“If you must know, he suggested I might join his research team on a future expedition.”

“Ye’d tote yer camera around some old ruins?”

“There’d be a bit more to it than that,” she said. “I expect I would relish the experience.”

“If it’s adventure ye seek, ye should pursue it.” Finn rubbed his jaw, seeming to mull over the thought. “Ye would do a fine job.”

Macie had been prepared for a flippant response, but she detected nothing of the sort in his tone. Nor on his expressive features. She couldn’t quite explain why, but suddenly, she felt a bit off-kilter. She pulled in a calming breath. “You mean that, don’t you?”

“I wouldn’t say it if it were not the truth,” he said. “Ye have a true talent, Macie. Now, back to my question. Are ye ready for this charade of yers to be over?”

“It’s rather early in the game, don’t you think?”

“I’ve reason to think it’s a game we should not be playing.”

“Perhaps that explains why you haven’t even been trying. Other than glowering at Mr. Aylesworth and a few nervous nobles, you haven’t given anyone a reason to believe you were not merely watching over me.”

“Ye didn’t need me shadowing yer every move.”

“It’s not just that. You know what I mean.” Macie met his eyes. “You know the terms of our agreement.”

“Terms of our agreement?” Again, he rubbed his jaw. “Ye sound like one of the solicitors who pens the documents for our company.”

She hiked her chin. “I have no doubt you understand what I mean. I am tired of having to suffer the attentions of boors and fools and cads.”

“I see that, lass. But ye shouldn’t be willing to shut out every man because of these foolish blokes.”

I’m not. Macie drank in the slightly gruff sound of his voice. I don’t want to shut you out.

Oh, dear. The thought jarred her. She couldn’t possibly be falling for Phineas Caldwell. That was the last thing—the very last thing—she needed.

“At the moment, that’s a chance I’m willing to take.” She forced a thin smile.

“Ye’re sure of that?” Finn’s eyes narrowed as he seemed to study her. “Ye wouldn’t want to give the intrepid explorer Aylesworth the wrong idea, now. Would ye?”

“That will not be a problem. Mr. Aylesworth is interested in my skill behind a camera. Nothing more.”

“I would not wager my last dollar on that, lass. He is a man. And he has eyes in his head.”

Macie bit back a grin. “Why, Finn Caldwell, if I didn’t know better, I’d suspect you were jealous.”

“Not a chance.”

“Well, now that we’ve settled that, may we move to another topic of conversation?”

The notes of a waltz filled the room. He glanced toward the ballroom floor. His eyes lit with a low fire as he turned back to her. “If ye’re set on playing this game, it’s high time we make our move.”

A whisper of warning played in her thoughts. I’ve reason to think it’s a game we should not be playing. Perhaps he was right. Was this scheme mere folly? Or was there a risk to this charade, if only to her heart?

Banishing her doubts to the recesses of her mind, she squared her shoulders. “Shall we give them something to talk about?”

He flashed a sly grin. “If that is what ye want, who am I to deny a lady?”