Page 17 of Trusting Miss Austen (Miss Austen #3)

With Jane’s and Cassie’s arrival and the onslaught of Seraphina, Tobias, and their brood, the house was bursting at the seams. Our poor staff were being run ragged with demands. These were mainly from Seraphina, who hated being cold and wanted roaring fires in every room, warming pans for the beds, and hot teas brought to her constantly.

‘Why Lucy chose to get married in the depths of winter, I’ll never know,’ she grumbled to me, huddling over the parlour fire. ‘I’ve got chilblains on chilblains!’

I glanced around to make sure Tobias wasn’t listening. He was engrossed in a game of cards with a couple of his children and intent on winning, so he wasn’t paying attention.

‘You cannot blame Lucy for the date,’ I said in a low voice. ‘She chose January because Tobias stipulated she could not get married for a year. He made her wait.’

Seraphina sniffed. ‘And a good thing too. Why, Harrington may have wanted Lucy only for her money like you-know-who.’

There was no point arguing with her when she was in this mood, so I returned to my needlework. Anyone with eyes could see that Harry had been devoted to Lucinda even before they became engaged, and she to him.

Their affection had only grown stronger, not weaker, as the months passed. And when Lucinda appeared at the back of the chapel, clasping her father’s arm the next day, everyone gasped. She resembled a princess from the ice realm with her dark hair contrasting the white satin-and-lace gown with a matching train. Harry looked like he might burst from love and pride to be marrying such a woman.

As they said their vows solemnly to each other and gazed at each other adoringly, no one in the audience could deny their love—least of all Seraphina, who was wrapped in so many fur stoles to ward off the chill that she looked like an oversized otter .

After the ceremony, we all piled outside and pelted rice at the happy couple as they ran laughingly to Harry’s carriage to head back to the house for the wedding luncheon. Our party did not linger either. The sky was black and heavy with snow clouds. But it held its breath until everyone was safely ensconced inside, and the first flakes started falling as we started on the soup course.

Freddie was sitting on my knee, and though in awe at being allowed to eat with the adults, he was behaving very well—apart from when he spotted Maurice through the door and started scrambling down to see his friend, exclaiming, ‘Mo Mo!’

‘No, Freddie, Maurice is busy,’ I said, grabbing on to him before he slipped. ‘What’s this on your plate? Doesn’t it look delicious?’ Maurice had made him a baby meal, mostly meat and vegetables cut up small. But not much had been eaten of it since he was too busy looking around.

‘He is such a darling,’ said Jane on the other side of me, her curls bobbing as she leaned forward to see him. ‘And so like you-know-who, it is uncanny,’ she whispered.

I jabbed her with my elbow to stop that line of conversation. ‘How is your latest novel coming along?’

‘Very well. It is finished at least,’ she replied.

‘I wish you would try to get them published. They are too good to languish in your writing desk.’

A fleeting look of displeasure crossed her features. ‘Father did offer First Impressions to a London publisher a few years ago. He declined it outright, and I don’t even think he read it. It was most disheartening.’ Her eyes filled with tears, which made me sorry that I had brought up the subject.

‘I’m sorry to hear that,’ I murmured. ‘But please don’t give up hope. I know there will come a day when the whole of England will be clamouring for Jane Austen’s novels.’

She gave me a watery smile. ‘There is more bad news, Flissy. I did not want to say anything because this is a happy occasion. But you should know what’s happening.’

I lowered my forkful of pork pie at the seriousness of her tone and stared at her. ‘Gracious. I insist you tell me right now, or I will be imagining all sorts of dire things.’

‘Father has decided to retire, and we are leaving Steventon and moving to Bath. He told us at the beginning of December. I hoped he would change his mind, but it seems he is determined, and my mother supports his decision.’

‘Oh no! When are you leaving? ’

‘In May, when we have downsized our belongings,’ she said mournfully.

‘It will be a wrench. But you like Bath, so it is not the end of the world,’ I reasoned. ‘And it could be worse. After witnessing the housing conditions in certain parts of London when I was there, you are sure to be more comfortable in Bath.’

‘Perhaps,’ she replied. ‘But when you have been living in a house for twenty-five years, it is difficult to leave it. And I do love the countryside so. Cassie agrees with me, and we have been sorely distressed. We cannot imagine living anywhere else.’

Poor Jane and Cassie, this was sad news indeed. What was Mr Austen thinking, moving them all to Bath? It was an exciting place to take a holiday, but I could imagine that living there permanently would be rather taxing.

I could not even say that I would visit her as, after our trip there, it held bad associations for me. Plus I did not want to leave Max and Freddie, and them coming with me was out of the question. The thought of bumping into Dorian on the street was enough to give me heart palpitations.

‘We will write to each other often,’ I reassured her. ‘And you are most welcome to stay with us whenever you like. You do not even have to wait for an invitation. If I wake up one morning and you are sitting at the breakfast table, sipping tea, I will not bat an eyelid.’

Jane giggled. ‘You might if I scoff all the eggs and toast and leave none for you.’

‘Very true,’ I deadpanned. ‘If that occurs, then I will send you back to Bath forthwith!’

Our talk turned to the masquerade ball, which was starting at six o’clock and had been deemed the winter event by Derbyshire high society. Apparently, the entire county’s gentry was currently donning their best and making their way to our house. I told Jane that I was worried we were not able to provide enough food and drink for everyone.

She reassured me that no one would think me a bad host if that occurred, and they should blame their own greediness.

Max too did not seem to be concerned in the slightest when I voiced my fears to him as we were changing into our ball attire.

‘Maurice has roasted a whole hog, Fliss. I sorely doubt you will hear anyone complaining about having a meagre plate of ham. Besides, everyone will be having too much fun dancing to worry about eating.’

‘Will you save a dance for me?’ I asked, looking up at him as he tied on his black mask. He stroked the nape of my neck and dropped a kiss on my lips.

‘Always.’

He looked so heart-meltingly dashing and mysterious that I was tempted to say, ‘Let’s stay here and have our own masquerade ball in bed.’ But I could hear carriage wheels crunching on the gravel outside—guests were arriving already!

Hastily fixing my mask in place, we descended hand in hand down the staircase to greet them.

Soon, I was immersed in an ever-growing crowd of people that kept on arriving. As everyone was wearing masks, I had no idea who I was greeting. I kept shaking hands, nodding, and saying, ‘How lovely of you to come. Please make your way through to the ballroom. ’

I kept a lookout for Rosalind Whiteley’s shining auburn hair and translucent cheeks, but no one bearing that description crossed my path. Eventually, I told Max that I needed a breather, and he nodded and told me he would come and find me shortly.

At least I could recognise Harriet. She descended the staircase, wearing a scrumptious yellow silk dress and holding the purple mask that Annie had made for her.

‘How are the children?’ I asked, kissing her cheek.

‘Evan is reading them a story, and they all looked very sleepy when I left. It’s been a long day, so I think they will drop off quickly.’

We had moved the younger children, including Freddie, to the rooms in the wing farthest from the ballroom so they would not be too disturbed by the noise. Freddie had been most excited to top and tail with his cousins.

Some guests passed by, looking at us, and Harriet held up her mask to conceal her face. ‘This is going to be tiresome holding it all night. I need some string or ribbons or something. Annie said she would tie them on, but she must have forgotten.’

‘I have some thin yellow ribbons in my workbox,’ I said. ‘Give it to me, and I’ll fix it for you.’

She handed me the mask, and I went off down the hallway to the parlour. I didn’t bother lighting a candle as the fire was casting enough light in the room. Locating the yellow ribbons in my workbox, I snipped off a couple of lengths with my scissors, poked the ends through the side holes, and tied them securely.

When I heard the door open behind me, I looked over my shoulder to see a masked Max standing there in the dim light. ‘I won’t be long,’ I said to him. ‘I’m fixing Harriet’s mask for her.’

He didn’t reply but came up behind me, put his arms around my waist, and nuzzled my hair.

‘Darling, don’t you need to greet the guests? There may be late arrivals.’

He grunted and clasped me tighter against him. I could feel his need for something else pressing into my backside through his breeches. I giggled to myself. Max was obviously thinking the same thing as I: that we looked most attractively mysterious in our masks.

Stroking his arm, I lowered my voice to a seductive purr. ‘Well, I’m sure an interlude of amour wouldn’t hurt.’

Before I had time to think, I was spun around, and his lips crushed mine. His hands began roaming over my body, caressing my breasts and cupping my buttocks. I felt faint with delight.

Goodness, I thought. Max must be more het up than I realised !

But I rose to the challenge and kissed him back even harder, so hard that he growled. Our kissing grew more and more frenzied, and I pushed him up against the wall and rubbed my body against his mercilessly. My hand squeezed one muscular thigh, and he grunted and squirmed as I moved it higher and higher, aiming for his instrument of pleasure.

Just as I was about to grab it, he pushed me away without a word and whirled out of the room, leaving me gasping for breath. I sank against the back of the sofa, pressing a hand against my bruised lips in awe. Gracious, I am definitely going to suggest we wear our masks in the bedroom!

When I had composed myself and returned to the foyer to give Harriet her mask, she had been joined by Papa and Aunt, and they were waiting for me.

I noticed Max was back in his position at the entrance as if he had never left it. How funny, he must have sneaked away when there was a lull between carriages. My body tingled at the remembrance of his touch. Luckily, no one had come in during our rendezvous. Then again, we were husband and wife. There was no impropriety committed, apart from cavorting in our own parlour and not being present to greet our guests!

‘Shall we go in?’ I said to everyone. ‘They will be preparing for the first dance.’

With a last longing backward glance at Max, I was swept off into the ballroom, where the guests were lining up.

As the father of the bride, Tobias was partnering Lucinda, and Harry had asked Seraphina. Harriet and I, being too late to join in, stood on the sidelines. Papa and Aunt moved off to speak to Evan, who was with Jane and Cassie.

As the dancers began to promenade, a flash of auburn hair midway down the line caught my attention. An elegant slim woman with a swan-like neck looked all too familiar. She was wearing a green-and-gold dress with a matching mask.

I nudged Harriet.

‘Is that Rosalind Whiteley?’

She followed my gaze. ‘Oh, yes, she arrived soon after you left. Her fiancé was with her, but he went off to talk to someone he knew.’

‘Oh. And is he dancing now?’

‘Yes, he’s the tall dark-haired man opposite her in the black mask.’

My eyes sought out who she meant. When they found him, my chest constricted so tightly that I took a step backwards and then another until I was pressed back against the wall, my hand clutching my throat.

‘Are you all right, Fliss?’

I blinked as the man turned away, his back to me now.

‘Rosalind’s fiancé looks familiar … Pray, what is his name?’

Please don’t say it, Harriet, I thought, clenching my fists. Please don’t let it be him.

‘She addressed him as Dorian,’ said Harriet blithely. ‘I’m not sure of his surname. He lives in London, but his family owns a castle in Somerset. He removed his mask to adjust it when they arrived, and he was very handsome indeed! I can see why Rosalind is smitten with him.’

The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end.

‘W-where did they meet?’

‘In London. She commissioned him to paint her portrait. Apparently, he’s a sought-after artist for that kind of work. I suppose they must have struck up a rapport while she was posing.’ Harriet sounded amused by it all, but I felt like I was going to be sick ...

For I had realised it wasn’t Max who had kissed me in the parlour. He had never left his station to come and find me.

I scrubbed frantically at my mouth with the back of my hand. From across the room, Dorian’s gaze caught mine and his lips curled into a smirk.

‘Excuse me, I need a glass of lemonade,’ I said to Harriet, inching towards the doorway.

‘It is getting hot in here, isn’t it?’ she said, fanning herself. ‘Can you get me one too please?’

I nodded and scampered from the room as fast as my legs could carry me. Horrific images started appearing in my mind: me pushing Dorian up against the parlour wall, me rubbing my body against his, me kissing him frantically like a bitch in heat.

Oh, no no no! I thought he was Max!

Darting into the supper room, I practically fell upon the lemonade bowl, ladled a generous cupful, and gulped it down, then took another. I scrubbed miserably at my mouth again, feeling hot and ashamed. I had kissed another man, and Dorian no less. Max would never forgive me!

‘Trying to wash away our kiss, Felicityyy?’ said a voice in my ear.

I whirled around, lemonade slopping out of my cup. Dorian was standing in front of me—larger than life, unmasked, a grin playing across his lips. It was like one of my nightmares.

‘Tsk tsk, you’re acting like I have some terrible disease,’ he drawled. ‘If my memory serves me correctly, I seem to recall you enjoyed it quite a lot at the time.’

‘I thought you were Max,’ I said weakly. ‘You tricked me!’

He shook his head. ‘I think not. You knew it was me.’

‘Why on earth would I know it was you? I didn’t even know you were coming! And you’re supposed to be engaged!’ I hissed.

Dorian shrugged. ‘Engaged or not, I saw you in that dress, and I couldn’t help myself. I can never help myself when I’m in the same room as you.’ His dark eyes glowed, and he looked like he had at Hartmoor, terrifyingly handsome and intent on having me.

‘Well, I’m going n-now,’ I said, my voice wobbling. ‘So we won’t be in the same room together. I suggest you p-pay attention to your fiancée and leave me alone.’

But that was easier said than done as Dorian followed me out of the supper room and into the ballroom like an eager puppy.

The dance had finished, and Lucinda was crossing the room towards me, smiling. But then something tugged at my dress, and I looked down impatiently, thinking I had caught it on something. Freddie was standing there.

‘Mama!’ he cried, sounding distressed. My heart leapt into my throat. He’d crawled down the stairs and toddled into the ballroom to find me and had become scared by all the people and noise .

‘What the devil?’ blustered Dorian, dropping to one knee and turning Freddie to face him before I had a chance to whisk him out of the room. I groaned inwardly. There was no mistaking Freddie’s lineage. He was a tiny Dorian lookalike, though dressed in a nightgown embroidered with ducklings!

‘But we never ...’ Dorian muttered, sounding confused. Then he looked up, and his gaze locked on Lucinda standing perfectly still in her wedding dress, her eyes wide with horror.

‘Oh, I see,’ he said after a moment’s pause.