The Masked Heart (Sweet Deception Regency #2) (5 page)

Another slash of his walking stick emphasized the anger he had bottled up since his abortive introduction to the tantalizing woman. Despite John Tibbles assurances, Drew realized he had done further damage to his suit by approaching her directly.

Drew did not understand what there was about the celebrated Maggie Mason that he found so compelling. Over the years, he had been aware of the rising popularity of the actress. Several times he had seen her on stage and thought she was beautiful, with her patrician features and her powdered white hair, but was not one of her slavish followers. At least not until four months ago.

Just before Christmas, he had gone to the Green Mews Theatre with a party and for the most part had been bored by the company. He had sat apart from the rest, his mind more involved with the play in progress than was usual. His eyes had been drawn to the white curls of La Solitaire and for once he focused his attention solely on her. During the first act, as a connoisseur of female beauty, he watched her with pleasure, admiring her exquisite features and lush body. By the second act, he had fallen under the spell of the woman. There was something in her voice and actions that suggested a depth of character that he had not expected. By the end of the third act, he was impatient for the next evening to begin so he might see her again.

Night after night, he returned to the Green Mews. Eventually he grew accustomed to her breathtaking beauty and began to observe the woman behind the characters she played. Watching La Solitaire, he caught hints of humor, intelligence and sensitivity that were in total contrast to the shallowness he had expected. She was not jaded or blowsy. She exuded an elegance and a curious innocence that intrigued him. As he sat in the comfortable darkness of the theatre, he became obsessed with the need to know more about the singular Maggie Mason.

To his chagrin, he discovered that there was little known about the woman outside of the theatre. No one of his acquaintance knew where she came from or where she lived now. It was said that an incredibly wealthy nobleman, in fact, was keeping her due to the mystery behind his identity, some had hinted that the man in question might even be Prinny himself. The latter at least, Drew discounted since he knew the man's tastes did not run to such youthful actresses.

The more elusive the woman became, the more she interested Drew. He did not really think beyond a light flirtation and he chaffed at the continued thwarting of his plans. He questioned his companions for someone who could introduce him but all to no avail. According to his friends, no one had gotten close enough to Maggie Mason to form an acquaintance.

Thus he began a campaign of his own. He sent an enormous basket of flowers only to discover that it had been distributed among the women in the chorus. He sent notes backstage but they were never acknowledged. He was amused by the standoffish behavior of the actress but, as she continued to ignore him, his determination grew. In a gesture guaranteed to win her attention, he bribed one of the stage attendants to place a diamond bracelet in her dressing room before her performance. He had arrived at the theatre before the raising of the curtain, confident in his ultimate success, only to find, on the seat of his solitary gilt chair, the unopened box.

Since well before he had reached his majority, Drew had become used to instant approval from females of all ages and classes. He knew he was well looking and, with his vast fortune, the majority of women he had met had fawned over his every presence. Why was Miss Maggie Mason so contrary?

Drew flung off his cloak as he took the stairs of his townhouse two at a time. The door opened under his hand, unlocked since he hated to alert the house of his comings and goings. Frosty's white head appeared like a spectre in the semi-darkness of the foyer as the impressively-bearded butler shuffled forward to take his things.

"I'll be in the library but I shall require nothing further," Drew mumbled as he crossed the marble foyer. "Good night, Frosty."

The old man observed the tightness around his master's mouth and refrained from informing him of the visitor who waited in the library. He would alert Mrs. Gladdie to prepare a room for milord's brother and then take himself off for a well-earned rest. "Night, milord."

Drew opened the door of the library and stopped on the threshold at the awareness of another presence. A figure rose from the chair beside the fireplace and a grin of delight erased the dark expression on his face.

"Robbie! Devil take it, man, but it's good to see you." Drew crossed the Aubusson carpet in long strides to clasp his brother's hand.

The two men exchanged greetings and then Drew pushed Robbie away in order to look more carefully at him. Although only five years separated the two, Drew felt all of his thirty years were evident beside the boyish appearance of his brother. Robbie's straight hair was a light brown and his eyes were the liquid brown of a young puppy. While Drew had the sleek look of a Corinthian, Robbie's shorter and stockier frame had the solid look of the landed gentry. All in all the lad looked well, Drew thought, indicating a chair.

"Why didn't you tell me you were coming to town? I should have been here to greet you."

"I didn't know, that is, it was sort of a spur of the moment decision," Robbie stammered. "I hope you don't mind."

"Mind?" Drew raised one eyebrow as he crossed to the sideboard. "It's about time you left the wilds of the country for a more civilized milieu. Brandy?"

"I've already made inroads on your supply." Robbie raised the snifter on the table beside him. "French?"

"Naturally. And before you lecture me about patriotism, be it known that before one had to revert to smuggled goods I had laid in a particularly heavy supply." Drew lifted his glass and inhaled the full bouquet before continuing. "I will be most grateful when that upstart Corsican is finally confined. The free flow of spirits is essential to the good nature of all citizens."

Drew brought the decanter with him and set it near at hand as he sat down across from his brother. He asked a question or two and listened as Robbie talked enthusiastically about the running of his estate. He took in the nervous gestures and the too-quick speech and wondered what was bothering the boy. He grimaced, realizing Robbie was no longer a young lad to be worried over. At twenty-five, he was a man and well able to manage his life without his older brother's interference.

Habit was hard to break. Drew's mother had died giving birth to Robbie, an unfortunate occurrence for which Drew's father Henry had never forgiven him. From the moment of his birth, Henry Farrington had ignored the boy. Robert was a sickly child, prone to frequent congestion of the lungs which for the most part kept him confined to the nursery. Drew had done his best to make up to his brother for his father's neglect and spent many hours entertaining him. In the instances he was able to lure Robbie out of doors, he had watched over him carefully, anxious that no injury or illness should befall him.

Despite his father's rejection, Robbie had developed a sunny disposition and, having seen little cruelty or abuse thanks to his brother's protection, had a thoroughly trusting nature. Drew was the cynical one, made so through bitter experience, while Robbie saw the world through a haze of goodness that endowed everyone with the finest motives and purest intentions.

It was amusing to see how the pale, weakling Robbie had grown up to be such a sturdy fellow. He was several inches shorter than Drew but built with the solidity and endurance of a thick oak tree. While Drew chose to travel extensively, Robbie had a real love of the land and preferred to remain at home. At an early age, the lad had shown a preference for Fairhaven, the estate willed to him by his grandmother.

Although periodically Drew had coaxed him up to London. He’d taken him around to his club, the storied Sweet’s, Almack’s and several seamier venues with the hope that a little town bronze would toughen him. Robbie, however, remained untouched by the seamier side of life. Noticing the harried look that clung to his brother, Drew wondered what bumblebath the boy had tumbled into. He sipped his brandy, knowing the news would eventually be forthcoming.

Under the steady gaze of his brother, Robbie ground to a halt. "I suppose the idea of crop rotation isn't of much interest."

"Faith, lad, you're well out there," Drew said, his voice a slow drawl. "When next I am asked to a social function, I am sure I shall dazzle my audience to have such gripping details to pass on. Did you come all this distance just to keep me
epris
of the newest agricultural advances?"

"Well, no," Robbie said, laughing nervously. "Not that it wouldn't be a bad idea for you to take a greater interest in your land. I have often told you, Drew, that your estate managers are not making decisions in either your best interests or the best interests of the land."

"Cut line, shaveling. As much as I am delighted with your precipitous visit, I suspect there is some purpose to your arrival on my doorstep. Out with it, lad, so I can seek my bed."

Robbie's mouth opened but no words issued forth. Drew found himself leaning forward in anticipation as his brother struggled to find his voice.

"I want to get married," he finally blurted out.

Drew did not even blink at the words which seemed to hang in the air between them but his eyes took on a frosty color. Robbie shifted uncomfortably under the fixated stare but, pluck to the bone, he held his ground.

"Perhaps you'd like to enlighten me on this matter," Drew said. "I was not aware that you had formed a tendre with any of the bucolic beauties in your vicinity."

Robbie winced under the sarcastic tone but refused to cry craven. "I'm sorry to spring this on you this way, Drew. It's not that I've been holding out on you. It's just that I wanted to be sure of my own feelings before I got your hopes up."

Since Drew had few hopes, he sighed. He heard the appeal in his brother's voice and could not doubt the sincerity of Robbie's affection. Perhaps it was not as bad as he suspected.

"Forgive me my jaded humor," Drew said by way of apology. "Why don't you tell me about the young lady. And then tell me what I may do to be of service since I assume that is why you have come up to London."

"You've caught me out there." Robbie laughed, much relieved at the softening of his brother's tone. "I do have a favor to ask but first let me tell you about Fleur."

"Fleur? French?"

"Her mother was French but Fleur was born here in England. And you will never believe my good fortune for she lives not twenty minutes from my estate," Robbie enthused. "I can't wait for you to meet her. She is unbelievably lovely. Tiny, blond and she has the most exquisite violet-colored eyes."

Drew groaned inwardly at the fatuous look on his brother's face. It was apparent that Robbie had seen little beyond the blond hair and violet eyes. He only hoped the chit was not some milkmaid. Or worse. "Has she family?"

"Yes. No."

"Well? Which is it?"

"Her parents are dead. Fleur told me it was a carriage accident six or seven years ago. Not titled but landed gentry. Fleur is being raised by her aunt who I gather is in rather ill health. I've met her brother and there's also a half-sister who is older and lives outside London taking care of an ailing relative."

"Sounds like the health of the family is rather precarious," Drew intoned.

"Not Fleur," Robbie defended. "She's in the very pink of health. We take long walks and she has excellent wind."

Drew snorted in disgust and took a restorative sip of brandy. "And what does her aunt think of your suit? Does she find it acceptable?"

"Well, there is a bit of a problem," Robbie began. "I have not had the opportunity to make my suit known."

Drew's brows lowered over his eyes at the hesitant tone of voice. Something definitely havey-cavey was afoot here. "You mean, you have not asked for the girl's hand? Ah, perhaps the aunt is not this Fleur's legal guardian. Is her guardian so intimidating that you wish me to make the offer in your behest?"

"No. Devil take it, Drew! I've never even spoken to the aunt." The words burst from Robbie and he slumped back in his chair under the baleful gaze of his older brother.

"Do you mean to tell me, Robbie, that you have been meeting this young person in some huggermugger fashion?"

At the condemnatory tone, Robbie sprang forward in his chair. "She is not a young person! She is a young lady and the woman I love. I know how this must sound but if you would hear me out I think you'll understand."

Drew stared at his brother who sat with elbows on his knees and hands clenched in a curiously touching manner. He sighed once more and nodded his head obligingly. "Forgive my shortness of temper. Tell me your story and I promise not to interrupt."

Robbie smiled gratefully and then launched into his story. "I first saw Fleur in the village. I cannot tell you how impressed I was with her grace and beauty. She was with her governess and a young boy whom I later discovered was her brother. I did not approach her but we did exchange smiles. A week later I saw her on the road to the west of Fairhaven. She had been out riding and was very properly accompanied by a groom. Her horse had taken a stone and I stopped to see if I could be of some assistance. As before, I was much struck by her. She has a sweet innocence and a gentleness of manner."

Robbie paused and from the glazed look in his eyes, Drew could tell that his brother was once more seeing blond curls and violet eyes.

"When I discovered that she lived so near to Fairhaven, I asked if I might call. She hesitated and then explained that her aunt was not well so that they were not receiving. Since, by then, her groom had taken out the stone and the horse did not turn up lame, I had no excuse to even accompany her home. But quite naturally, I could not leave it at that."

Robbie finished his brandy and placed the glass carefully back on the table. He looked across at Drew and was relieved to find his brother's austere features set in an encouraging expression.

"I asked various people in the county if they had acquaintance with the Meriweathers but no one did. It seems that when the aunt first had come to the area she had been less than sociable, so the family is little known. Fleur is only just eighteen and is not out in society. At any rate, I did understand the general vicinity of her daily rides and so over the next several weeks I was able to run into her quite by accident. Sometimes she was able to get away without her groom and we were able to meet in the old mill on the edge of the village which was a decided improvement since it has been extremely cold this winter."