Masquerade Secrets (10 page)

While London was captivating with its glittering parties and smooth sparkling stone, it had nothing to compare to the beauty of the lush rolling green hills and the crystalline sky of the country.

Turning the corner, Aubrey sighed in delight at the snowy white mare that was saddled, knowing that was her mount.

“What a beauty you are,” she whispered to the animal as she petted his nose. The gorgeous creature seemed to agree and nuzzled deeper into her hand. A soft laugh escaped her lips.

“She’s breathtaking.”

The deep, masculine voice startled her out of her focus on the animal. Her gaze jerked up, locking onto the gold flecks in the duke’s eyes. She wanted to sigh and lay her forehead against the horse’s, but didn’t. In habit, she curved her lips slightly, trying to appear at ease. “Yes, she is. I was just telling her that very same thing.”

A stable hand exited the stable at that moment, leading a glossy black stallion that seemed to be chomping at the bit. “I am sorry my lady, I wasn’t able to ready another horse yet for a groomsman. Give me a moment and I will see to it,” he said, handing the reigns of the horse to the duke.

“That won’t be necessary. I shall accompany her this morning,” he told the stable hand before turning toward her. “If that is agreeable to you, of course.”

The warring emotions made her feel sick. She wanted to be alone, wanted to be able to get away from everything and calm her emotions a bit. But the opportunity to be alone with him, to get to know him without being interrupted by Lady Victoria or anyone else, was too good to pass up.

“Of course.”

“Allow me.” He moved to help her onto her mount and she closed her eyes as his scent slammed into her. The smell of sandalwood and his soap was so powerful she thought she would fall into his arms then and there. All the sensations she had felt the night of the masquerade came rushing back to her, the feeling of her heart beating so heavily she thought it would fall out of her chest, the feel of his lips on hers, his hair in her hands.

The feelings assaulted her, and the desire that ripped through her again must have shown through her eyes, because his were suddenly darker, more dangerous.

He had to feel the same pull between them.

Hands at her waist, she wasn’t sure if he was going to lift her onto the horse or into his arms. Recklessly, she wanted to be against him. To feel his hard muscles against her curves one last time.

With a sound of frustration that seemed to rip from his soul, he lifted her easily onto the back of her mount.

“I’ll follow your lead.” His voice sounded a bit husky.

With a nod, she led her horse off quickly. She needed a moment alone, a moment to gather her composure.

She cursed. One touch from him and she had melted, ready to give him all. And she couldn’t. She wouldn’t. It was ridiculous that she was competing with herself. But she wanted to win. She wanted to win as Lady Aubrey, not as the irresistible, desirable, masquerade woman.

If all she could have was this short time alone with him, she would take it. Take it and relish it. He was hers, if only for a morning.

After fifteen minutes at a gallop, she reigned in her horse. Her breath calm, a serene smile on her face, she turned to allow him to pull up beside her.

“I was wondering if you planned to leave me in the dust the entire morning,” he smiled ruefully.

She couldn’t help but chuckle. “It did cross my mind. I apologize, but I am unused to company on my rides. I find that my mind wanders, and I am not much for conversation.”

“It is not a problem. I am mostly the same way. My mind fixes to problems that I haven’t been able to solve. I’ve always found it astonishing that flying at neck breaking speeds gives me a clarity of thought that I can’t find anywhere else.”

“Yes, exactly.” She gave him a true smile of pleasure. It wasn’t often that someone had that same experience while riding. Speaking with others throughout the years, she had found that she was singular in that aspect. “I have not met another who shares that trait.”

He leaned forward in his mount, relaxed, looking over the landscape before returning to her. “Now you have. Care to race to the second hill?” He nodded off in the direction to a hill a few miles away.

Eyeing the distance, she turned and gave him a bright smile. “Catch me if you can,” she said before quickly bringing her horse into a full gallop. The laugh bubbled out of her chest at the priceless expression on his face as she left him in the dust.

She raced ahead, enjoying the exhiliration that coursed through her. The world was a blur of colors as she flew over the ground on the horse’s back. Nothing compared to this. Nothing.

Except kissing the duke.

The countryside swirled in a collage of colors that made no sense, the crisp smell of wet grass and cold wind mingled with the sweeter smell of the wildflowers that grew sporadically across the hills. Their lazy violets, flirting pinks, and cheerful yellows combined with the sun made the landscape look like a dream, rosy and perfect.

Maybe that is what this is. A dream. Her racing over the countryside on the back of a horse in the most beautiful landscape she could imagine, with the man of her dreams riding behind her to catch her. That only happened in her dreams.

With a sudden whoosh of air, Bradford raced past her on his black horse like a demon suddenly released from hell.

That rosy haze left abruptly as she watched his back proceed further and further in front of her. He was going to win.

Surprised that he wouldn’t let a lady win, she grinned and urged her horse on faster. The animal needed little encouragement from her rider, seeing the competition race past.

Aubrey knew that there was no way her sweet mare, no matter how quick she might be, had any chance of overtaking the duke’s magnificent stallion, but that didn’t mean she had to give up and let him win. Oh no, she would make him work for the win and know that she wasn’t about to give up just because of his station. She would challenge him.

Nearing the tree at the bottom of the second hill, her sweet horse gave all that she had. In the end it wasn’t enough, but it didn’t matter that she hadn’t won. When the duke gave a hearty laugh, one that was full-hearted and carefree, she felt as if she had.

Jumping off of his horse, he reached out to her to help her dismount. “I think that was the most fun I’ve had in some time. Thank you.” He was only slightly out of breath from the race.

“It was my pleasure.” An answering smile curved her lips. “I had hoped to win, of course, but I can’t be disappointed with how much my horse gave.”

“No, indeed. I was quite surprised myself at how fast she ran. Not to mention your underhanded tactics in the take off.” His hands remained on around her waist a tad longer than was necessary, but she didn’t mind. In all honesty, she wished they had remained there longer. “In fact, I am quite scandalized.”

A laugh escaped her lips. “I’m afraid had you known me a bit better, my lord, you would not be quite as surprised.”

“Truly?”

She nodded with a smile. “I enjoy competition and take every opportunity to have the upper hand if possible.”

His brow rose as he looked at her appraisingly.

“Unfortunately, I am telling the truth,” she laughed, correctly reading his thoughts. “You may ask my sister, for she has had the brunt of my cunning at times.”

Laughing, he shook his head slightly. “I believe I might have to test this claim, perhaps later with a game of cards.”

She sighed dramatically. “Well, I tried to warn you, Your Grace. If I should win at cards, I will remind you that you were warned in advance.”

Another laugh escaped him. “Do you mind if we walk a bit? After that race I believe they deserve a rest.” He gestured to the horses.

“Not at all. I think my legs might enjoy the exercise as well. I haven’t ridden like that in some time. At least not since we’ve been in town.”

“Hyde Park doesn’t allow such racing,” he agreed.

“Certainly not. If we had raced like that, I don’t doubt that we would have killed someone.”

He took hold of his horse’s bridle and walked beside her. “We could have killed someone here. The competition was that fierce.”

She couldn’t help but laugh. “And it will be just as fierce if we ever race again. I warn you, Your Grace, I shall always try to win, no matter how much your horse might outclass mine.” She thought for a moment. “Perhaps I shall race a stallion next time.”

He stopped and looked at her in astonishment before chuckling. “For a moment I thought you were serious.”

“I was.” She laughed as he sputtered. Taking pity on his obvious distressed she soothed, “While I might enjoy the challenge, I rather enjoy my neck the way it is. I don’t think I will be riding a stallion any time in the future.”

“And I am grateful to hear it.”

She laughed again, reaching up to give her horse’s neck a brisk rub.

“Why have we never done this before?”

His question completely caught her off guard. Turning to look at him, she saw him watching her. “What do you mean?”

“Well, we have known each other for such a long time. I feel as if I should know you better.” He hesitated for a moment. “You’re much more than I realized.”

She laughed humorlessly.

He reached out to touch her arm, stopping her from walking any further. “Forgive me. That came out wrong.”

She shook her head. “No. I understand. You courted my friend for so long, and I’ve stayed on the edges of the ballroom. Not many men have taken the time to get to know me.” She wasn’t bitter about it; it was just a fact.

“Our mistakes.”

The look he gave her was full of sincerity and she wanted to melt.

“Well, I appreciate that, Your Grace.” She gave him a genuine smile, the bond that had begun to form between them showing plainly on her face.

“Call me Bradford.”

“I’m sorry?” His request surprised her. It was too much like their conversation on the terrace that night.

It was his turn to smile. “I said that you may call me Bradford. Honestly, I do not enjoy being called ‘Your Grace’ as much as others might think. Besides, I’d like to think of us as friends. Don’t you agree?”

“Yes. I’d like that.” Friends. It was more than she could have hoped for from him, and she would cherish any connection to him.

But it wasn’t enough. She wanted more.

She wanted his love and affection. Not because she was the masquerade woman, but because she was herself. Because she was his friend, and so much more.

She was in love with him. It was more than a connection, more than passion. It was overwhelming, all consuming.

The realization was enough to startle her into tearing her eyes away from his before he saw too much.

He wanted her friendship, not her love.

And she would give it, but it would never be enough.

***

“I have a favor to ask of you,” Victoria said, quietly shutting the door to her brother’s study.

Looking up from his desk, Derek Haveston, Viscount Lawrence, arched a brow at her. “And what would that be?”

Victoria smoothed her skirts, trying to appear serene although inside, she was strung as tight as a bow. Her plans to trick the Duke of Wathersby into proposing to her all rested upon her brother’s cooperation, but she knew her brother would never willingly be part of such a plot.