Love's Misadventure (The Mason Siblings Series Book 1) (26 page)

“Anna, I had thought…” Lane hesitated, choosing how to phrase his request. “Perhaps until this unfortunate business with Lord Boxton has concluded, we could keep the particulars of our relationship clandestine—”

Anna swallowed her bite of sandwich. “Goodness, yes! I have no intention of informing Charles that—” Lane and Anna both stilled as the door to the parlour swung open.

* * *

Charles strode in and closed the door behind him, his suspicion heightened. “No intention of informing Charles that what?” Anna’s face grew ashen. “
What
, Anna?”

He suspected that he already knew, but Anna and Lane were not privy to that aspect of his life.

Lane stood, exchanging a meaningful glance with Anna. “Why do you not sit, Charles? We have something we wish to discuss.”

Charles sat in the deeply cushioned armchair, stiff and deliberately unreadable. “You have five minutes to explain yourself, Anna.”

She visibly swallowed. “It is Lord Boxton who has been abusing me,” she confessed.

Charles surged to his feet and yelled angrily, “I knew it! The scurrilous bastard is going to get what is coming to him!”

“Please, Charles. There is more that I wish to discuss with you.”

I should say so
. Fury still rode him from his meeting with Thomson and Brown, but he kept it in check as he faced Anna.

She took a deep breath. “He has also been blackmailing me.”

Charles felt no better for having his suspicion confirmed. His little sister did not deserve such abominable treatment. Lord Boxton would get what was coming to him; Charles would make sure of it.

“What could he possibly hold against you, Anna, that you would yield to?”

“You, Mama, Papa…and Lane.”

Charles’ eyebrows rose. “He threatened to harm us?”

She shook her head. “He threatened to kill you.” She went on to explain what had occurred the morning of her engagement, how Boxton had delivered his threats and garnered Anna’s acceptance.

Charles wanted to shout. He wanted to grab her shoulders and shake her, ask her why the devil she had kept such important facts from him. He could have helped her, for Christ’s sake! But he didn’t. She was under enough duress with the turn of events in her life; she did not need added guilt.

She touched a hand to his knee. “I apologize for not telling you sooner, Charles.”

He nodded. “I do not put the blame on you, Anna; I thank you for telling me.” He turned his gaze on Lane. “What thoughts have you in mind for the villain?”

Who were Boxton’s
eyes
and how did he feel they were
everywhere
? It certainly bore looking into—and eliminating.

Lane cracked a lopsided grin. “I have an idea, but I am missing an integral piece of this puzzle. I had hoped that you would be able to aid me in that area.”

Charles inclined his head. “I am willing to help in any way that I can, so long as it ends in Lord Boxton ruing the day that he ever laid a hand on my sister.”

“Excellent.” Lane’s smile grew. “This is what I’d had in mind…”

Chapter 31

Anna’s heart continued to beat unsteadily as she watched the Scarsdales’ guests mill about and dance in the grand ballroom. She had yet to see Lord Boxton among the colourful crowd, though having not arrived with him, she did not know how he was costumed.

She adjusted her plain black domino and hoped that no one would recognize her. She had dressed in an unremarkable, plain, long-sleeved, modest, yet slimming emerald gown. Her hair was tied in a simple knot at the base of her neck with no adornments. Utterly forgettable.

Lane had disappeared among a group of his Cambridge acquaintances, and Charles waited nearby but out of sight.

A nervous flutter quivered in her stomach as she ran their plan through her mind. The last fortnight had gone by in a haze of scheming, meetings, and secret rendezvous. Charles had assured her that Lord Boxton’s “eyes” would not give them trouble, though Anna hadn’t the faintest idea how he would fulfill such a promise.

She had learned several things throughout the plotting that she wished could be unlearned. They were, however, essential to the plan that would hopefully be successful tonight.

After their last encounter, Anna had no difficulty convincing Lord Boxton that she was ill. Angry though it made him, he hadn’t come to call on her once in the last fortnight to express it. It also meant that she was not expected to attend Lady Scarsdale’s masked ball.

Nervous anxiety quavered in her stomach and trembled her fingers. She straightened the long sleeves of her gown and toyed with the small reticule that hung from her wrist.

She shook herself. They had all memorized the plan. Behaving nervously could damage their chances for success. She must embody a character, like the enigmatic Lady Roving in Mr. Mystery’s latest novel,
The Highwayman
.
Yes.
She was the mysterious Masked Lady. She attended a ball on the arm of her one true love in the hopes of destroying an infamous scoundrel, thus freeing her from his evil and manipulative clutches. She straightened her shoulders.
Indeed. The mysterious Masked Lady
.

Anna wove her way through the crowd toward the refreshment table, eyeing the masked members of the
haute ton
with the hopes of finding her quarry.

“Annabel?” A voice whispered.

Anna jumped.

“Don’t turn around.”

She filled a glass with punch and took a sip. “What is it, Charles?” she whispered back.

“Lady Juliana has been spreading some rather repugnant rumours about you this evening.”

“Lady Juliana?” Anna’s heart thumped with nervous anticipation. “What are the rumours?”

He was silent, and she feared for a moment that he might have left. Finally, he hissed, “I would rather not say.”

Anna clucked her tongue. “It would not be prudent of me to go into our scheme unaware of—”

“Fine,” he growled. “She has stated to many of the rumourmongers in attendance that you had spent several days in the company of rough men…and enjoyed it thoroughly.”

“Oh dear,” she breathed. It was close enough to the truth that it could be easily believed. “Where is she?”

“Moments ago she was entertaining some handsome gentlemen toward the north side of the dance floor. She is wearing a scarlet evening gown, with matching mask adorned with rubies, and a red-and-green tartan sash. I believe her costume is intended to be a Celtic princess of some kind.”

Anna nodded, placing her empty glass upon a nearby tray. “Thank you.”

“Good luck.” Charles’ reply rang in her ears as she spun and made her way around the perimeter of the grandly bedecked ballroom.

Lady Juliana came into her view. She was, as Charles had warned, surrounded by men and wearing an unfortunate Celtic princess costume. The evening gown clashed hideously with her orange hair. Why had she chosen that particular shade of red?

Anna pressed her back to the wall in an attempt to fade into the background unnoticed.

“Have you heard the most recent tidbit about Miss Bradley?” Lady Juliana’s strident voice cut through the low hum of conversation and the orchestra’s enthusiastic rendition of the quadrille. “I have been informed, by a very reliable source, that the prim and proper Miss Annabel Bradley is no longer
prim and proper
.” She tapped the side of her long nose and let out a tittering laugh that was echoed by several lower chuckles.

Anna felt an absurd, burning desire to walk over to the gossip-mongering woman and pull her hair.
Settle down, Anna,
she told herself with a secretive smile,
you will soon have your chance to end Lady Juliana’s vicious tongue-wagging for good
. And my, but that would feel good.
I am the mysterious Masked Lady
, she reminded herself.

“Yes,” Lady Juliana continued, “it is said that she spent several days in the company of
six
men, days
and
nights, without a chaperone.” Several gasps rippled through the crowd.

A loud, male voice rose above the snickering and general surprise of the small group. “That cannot be true. I have known Miss Bradley for many years, and she simply does not seem the type of young lady to behave in such a manner.”

Anna dearly wished she that she could see the face of the gentleman that had so gallantly come to her defense. Nevertheless, she was warmed by the gesture.

“I assure you, sir,” Lady Juliana’s brittle, shrill voice rose, “that it is true. I have heard the account personally from a very close acquaintance of Miss Bradley’s.”

The crowd muttered and whispered, the low hush slowly spreading through the room. Soon Lady Juliana’s credibility would cease to exist, but doubt would likely linger in many a mind…and it smarted. Most particularly when Anna’s
enceinte
state began to show and the truth would be exposed for all to see.

She placed a hand over her stomach in a protective gesture.

A large, shadowy man passed her, bringing her thoughts back to the present. The man smelled strongly of Irish whisky and walked with a self-confident swagger. Anna eyed him carefully. He wore black from head to toe with a black half-mask. His auburn hair and glinting green eyes could only mean one man.
Lord Boxton
.

He entered the throng around Lady Juliana, the buzz of conversation slowly dissipating. The discussion turned to the fine weather and other light banter, until the group began to disperse.

Anna continued to observe inconspicuously from her position against the wall as Lord Boxton and Lady Juliana exchanged pleasantries. Lord Boxton left to retrieve some punch, and then they danced a waltz.

The business of spying certainly had its dull moments, but the excitement flowing just under her skin was like molten lava ready to erupt in an explosion of exhilaration at any moment.

She kept her gaze on the couple as they slowly walked away from the other dancers together. Lord Boxton whispered something in her ear, and they went their separate ways. As casually as she could, Anna followed Lord Boxton as he slunk into the hallway, then up the staircase to the upstairs retiring rooms.

Anna kept her distance, ensuring that Lord Boxton would not see her. She stopped at the second-floor landing and crept her head around the corner.

The contemptible man disappeared through the doorway to one of the guest bedchambers, and the door closed quietly behind him. She waited for a moment before sneaking down the hall after him.

Her heart beat hard and steady in her chest, while tense discomfort swelled within her. She approached the door and heard voices within. Tentatively, she put her ear to the door.

“I understand that you have been spreading gossip about my future wife, Juliana.”

“O
h come, darling. You know she is a lightskirt in commoners’ clothing. You have said as much, yourself.”

Anna clenched her jaw.

“She is soon to be
Lady
Boxton,” Anthony reminded her. “She should not have so many rumours floating about; it may have an adverse affect on my own reputation.”

Lady Juliana sniffed indelicately. “Be that as it may, she deserves a little humiliation before you take her for your own. She will have you, after all, and I must stand to the side.”

“Come now, Juliana,” Lord Boxton’s voice held censure. “You know that I cannot marry you. I do not want your scandalous reputation to mar my good name and ruin my chances at inheriting my grandfather’s estate in Bath.” There was silence for a moment. “I will continue to see you after I am married; you know how marriages of convenience work. You are open to some very pleasurable acts that not many women will submit to, and are therefore worthy of my attention. You may not be wifely material for a man as distinguished as I, but you will do nicely as a mistress.”

There was another pause. “Speaking of entertainment,” Juliana purred. “Why do we not think of something more pleasant than your promiscuous wife-to-be, and amuse ourselves with something much more fulfilling?”

“I do wish that your father hadn’t such strict guard on you at your home,” Lord Boxton murmured. “Trysts in such daring locals could one day find us caught.”

Lady Juliana moaned. “Oh, darling, but the danger makes it so much more exciting!”

The unmistakable sound of slurping lips came from the other side of the door, and Anna cringed.
It is time
.

She quickly retreated down the corridor, noting the room’s precise location before descending the first staircase. Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted a reflection glass hanging in the hall, and she stopped to gaze at her reflection.
Too pink
. She reached into her reticule and withdrew some white powder and smeared it over her cheeks and under the edges of her mask, giving her a sickly appearance.
Perfect
.

She then withdrew a leaflet of parchment and a small piece of drawing charcoal and quickly jotted the directions to the occupied room. She folded the paper and tucked it in her sleeve. She returned the items to her reticule, clapped her hands together, and adjusted her gown before entering the resplendent ballroom.

Conflicting emotions ran rampant through her as she strolled among the crush. She had always been poor at playing charades, but tonight she would have to surpass every performance she had ever made. It was the performance of her life, for her life.

Charles still stood next to the refreshment table. She caught his gaze and winked one eye at him. He responded with a barely perceptible nod, then stalked through the crowd toward Lady Freeman, the greatest rumourmonger that ever was.

Anna continued to run her gaze through the crowd searching for a glimpse of Lane. Finally, she spotted him across the room watching her through the slits in his domino. Anna withdrew a fan from her reticule and fanned herself with a wink and a smile. Lane nodded.

Apprehension wove its way through her, her stomach lurching.
Calm down, baby
. She could do this.