Ever since she had told him of how humiliated she had been when he had left her in the Tremberley gardens that night so many years ago, he had wanted to make it up to her. He knew if he had told her that that was his motivation, she would reject the outing. So he had told her it was for Henrietta and that it would be a good way to potentially dig up information from the Dorset gentry. And these things were true. His primary motivation, though, was to please Catherine, to give her what she deserved. He wanted to give her a night of good memories to replace what had happened before. When he had received the invitation to the Langley masquerade, he knew he had to do it. It was a little risqué to take Henrietta to a masquerade, given that she wasn’t out yet, but she would be surrounded by gentry matrons who had known her since babyhood.
Now, he stood in the entryway of Edington Hall, waiting for Henrietta and Catherine and his friends to emerge. All were running late. He had gotten Catherine a gown for the occasion, a beautiful color that would suit her.
He turned around and there she was.
Catherine.
The sight of her—it was too much. She was walking towards him down the long Edington Hall main staircase. She was always beautiful, but in the dress, with her hair carefully turned up, she sparkled. He could see the tops of her breasts rise and fall with her breath as she approached. A bolt of desire went through him, so strong and hot that he had to clench his hand into a fist to keep from rushing forward and enveloping her.
She smiled at him shakily and he went to take her hand, but she shook her head and mouthed, “Henrietta.”
And, indeed, his sister appeared at the top of the staircase, adorable in her new green evening dress.
“How do I look?” she said, giving a spin, and nearly upsetting a candelabra.
“Very elegant,” he snorted. Henrietta stuck her tongue out at him.
“You look very beautiful, Lady Henrietta,” Catherine said from beside him. Henrietta smiled at the earnestness of her compliment.
“Yes,” said Tremberley, coming into view. “Very lovely.”
“You look almost respectable,” Henrietta said to Tremberley. “You two as well,” she added to Montaigne and Leith, who had just appeared.
Tremberley put his hand over his heart. “How you wound me, Lady Henrietta. To be thought disreputable at all times is my heart’s fondest ambition.”
His sister scoffed at this mockery and flounced her way down the stairs. Clearly, John thought to himself, Catherine had yet to work with his sister on how to take the steps with grace.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
When they arrivedat Langley Abbey, John could see that Henrietta had been right. Itwasan absolute crush, which just suited his purposes. He didn’t want anyone looking at them too closely and the packed bodies would make the aristocracy particularly careless. In the carriage, they affixed their masks—Catherine helped Henrietta with hers and he tied the ribbons of Catherine’s. He felt her shiver as he touched the nape of her neck.
“Later,” he said, so quietly that he wasn’t sure she had heard. But as they exited the carriage, she squeezed his hand, and he knew that she had.
He was satisfied with Catherine’s mask. It completely disguised her face, rendering her undetectable.
The ballroom was so thick with bodies that, when the master of ceremonies announced their arrival, he could barely be heard over the din of the revelers.
Excellent.That was exactly what he wanted.
Almost instantly, the crowd absorbed Leith, Montaigne and Tremberley. He imagined the first would be canvassing the crowd for a courtesan to his tastes, the second for a comely servant, and the third for a bored widow in a complicated marriage. He doubted he would see them again until tomorrow morning.
John, Henrietta, and Catherine traveled through the ballroom. John hardly recognized anyone between the masks and the infrequency with which he attended balls in Dorset. He wanted to dance with Catherine, to repeat the experience they had had at Tremberley, but he couldn’t leave Henrietta in the throngs until she was established with the society matrons.
He saw Lady Trilling standing with Lady Langley and Lady Toller—exactly the trio he wanted.
When Lady Trilling saw him, she put out a hand and waved. His mask was just a domino and hardly disguised him at all.
“Lady Trilling,” he said, as they strode over and took her hand. “You are looking marvelous tonight.”
“Oh, don’t flatter an old woman, Your Grace,” she said, her gaze falling on Henrietta.
“Is this Lady Henrietta? Between her charming little mask and her evening dress, I hardly recognize her.”
Henrietta gave a neat little curtsey and John saw Catherine give a little smile of pride.
“Yes,” John said to the group. “This is my sister, Lady Henrietta. She is making her debut next season and we have brought her here, Lady Langley, to your ball, because we thought no event could better acclimate her to high society.”
Lady Langley gave a little head bow at this compliment.
