“I hadn’t even noticed,” she lied.
Lady Blue said nothing, but Rhiannon was acutely aware of her friend’s pointed stare trained on her from the periphery of her vision.
She turned away from the ballroom and prospective beaus. “Why are you looking at me that way?”
Her friend’s expression was contemplative. “Because I suspect you’re not being truthful with yourself or me.”
“What do you mean? Of course I am.” Rhiannon shifted uncomfortably.
“Do you have feelings for Richford?” Lady Blue asked softly, keeping her voice from carrying.
Her stomach tightened, her heart lurching.
“Yes, I do. Feelings of immense frustration, anger, vexation…” She allowed her words to trail off, wondering if she was protesting too much.
“I was referring to a different sort of feelings.”
Heavens, was she that obvious?
Rhiannon frowned. “What sort of feelings, then?”
“Are you in love with him?”
Rhiannon had never told anyone about the way she felt for Richford. It had been her shameful secret. He was a beautiful rake, older than she was, beyond her reach. He had never taken notice of her. And yet, over years as she had crossed paths with him at balls and dinners, what had begun as a naïve girl’s infatuation had grown and blossomed into something more. Something deep and abiding.
She sighed, hating to admit it, to hear the words aloud. But she also wondered if it would be freeing to unburden herself. She hadn’t been able to tell Rhys, of course, because he was her brother and Richford was his friend. Mater was disinterested and scarcely paid note of anything Rhiannon did, aside from urging her to marry the earl. Nor had she ever told her small circle of friends.
“How did you know?” she asked Lady Blue.
“It occurred to me that there could be a different, deeper reason for your ire with him,” her friend explained shrewdly.“He is being an overbearing oaf, to be sure, but I have also seen the way you look at him, and just now, I saw the way your gaze passed over every other gentleman here.”
“I am the world’s greatest fool,” she said bitterly, whipping her fan back and forth.
At least the breeze she stirred was aiding in the itchy discomfort being caused by her blasted wig.
“Loving someone isn’t foolish,” her friend told her. “Not unless it is someone who doesn’t deserve your love.”
Rhiannon wondered if Lady Blue was talking about her husband. “Did you fall in love with someone who didn’t deserve it?”
“I don’t even know if it was love any longer,” her friend said sadly. “All I do know is that whatever I felt for him, he most certainly didn’t deserve it. Now, all I want is to be free of him. But he ignores all my letters, and I’ve grown weary of waiting. He’s forced my hand.”
“I’m sorry.” Rhiannon’s heart ached for her friend and the misery she had so obviously endured. “If he cannot see how lovely and kindhearted you are, then he is an idiot.”
“But enough about me.” Lady Blue whipped her fan with greater force. “We were speaking ofyou, my dear.”
“I don’t want to speak of me either.” She sighed heavily for the second time. “He’ll never notice me, not the way I want him to.”
“See if he notices you tonight,” her friend suggested.
“I’m wearing your gown and a wig along with this mask. I should hardly think he would recognize me.” She fanned herself aggressively, feeling the wisps curling about her face fluttering. “Besides, I’m determined to enjoy myself without him hovering over me.”
“Perhaps he’ll surprise you.”
“I doubt that.”
Because all the Duke of Richford had managed to do thus far had been to disappoint her. Perhaps it was time to finally admit to herself that he simply wasn’t for her.
Aubrey spottedRhiannon at once from across the throng of tittering lords and ladies in their masks and silk and jewels.
