Never a Bride (22 page)

She smiled and left the room. Camden looked at the two envelopes. Each was written by a different hand. He smelled the scent of one. On it lingered a heavy rose perfume. Not bad but not breathtaking. He put the other to his nose and lightly breathed in. Mirabella. He knew her scent—fresh, clean, with a hint of spice.

He tore open her envelope and read.

My Dear Camden,

I must beg your pardon a thousand times for I cannot possibly make our engagements tonight. My father has agreed that I may host the Masked Toga Ball, which we discussed last night. There is so much to be done. Please accept my heartfelt apologies, and know that I will join you for the Vanlandinghams’ ball on Saturday evening. However, that is the only event I feel I can attend with you this week.

I am very truly yours,

Mirabella

Did she expect him not to see her this entire week? He intended to see her,
wanted
to see her. What impertinence! He threw her note aside.

It was fine with him if that was what she wanted. He had plenty to do to occupy him. He would indulge in a game of cards or billiards at one of the clubs. He might enjoy an entire night at White’s.

He ripped open the other envelope and immediately looked at the signature. Lady Gwyneth. He scanned the note inviting him to call on her and her mother for afternoon tea. The chit had temerity. She was the beautiful young daughter of a wealthy duke, and no doubt she was used to getting what she wanted. She obviously had designs on Camden.

If he canceled his engagement to Mirabella and made a match with Lady Gwyneth, he would have more than enough money to pay off his family’s debts. He crumpled the letter in his fist. And he’d be just like his father. God help him. He refused to give that idea a second thought.

He did not want to be like his father, or like his friend Albert Farebrother who was out each evening at the clubs or paying calls to his mistress. Camden wanted to be at home in the evenings with his wife. He wanted to find pleasure in her, not with a paid woman.

Camden leaned back in his chair and plopped his Hessian boots up on the desk. But he had to think about what kind of wife he wanted. Did he want a wife whom he and the
ton
deemed socially acceptable, or did he want a wife who set his very soul on fire? Did he want a wife who could match his intellect on long winter evenings while they sat by a fire, or a wife who was happy staying quiet with her needlework? Did he want a wife who would share his bed and the pleasures that lay waiting for them there, or did he want a wife who couldn’t wait for him to leave her side and go to a mistress?

He knew most men kept a mistress. It was almost expected of a titled man to have at least one. But what need would he have of a mistress if he had Mirabella? He couldn’t see her sitting quietly and doing needlework. No, she would be by his side enjoying conversation with him. Perhaps he could even convince her to read some of her poetry to him.

Camden slammed his feet down and rose from his chair. Just who did Mirabella think she was? They were supposed to attend the balls and parties and go for walks in the gardens and for rides in the park. He enjoyed dancing with her, talking to her, looking at her. He wanted to be with her.

“Wait until Saturday night, indeed,” he mumbled into the empty room.

If Mirabella wouldn’t come to him, he would go to her. He grabbed his coat and hat off the hall stand on his way out the door.

Less than fifteen minutes later he was standing in Mirabella’s foyer waiting to be announced to her. He was sure his heart quickened when he followed Newton into the drawing room and saw Mirabella standing beside a desk. She wore a simple dress, the color of winter wheat. Her thick hair flowed over her shoulders and down her back. Surely it was an offense to always wrap such beautiful hair. He wanted nothing more than to take her in his arms and kiss her.

“Camden, I’m afraid you caught me at an inopportune time again.”

“I do seem to have a habit of doing that, don’t I?”

“Most certainly. As you can see, I’m not dressed for a social call.”

“You look beautiful, comfortable. I feel fortunate to see your hair in such a becoming manner.”

She reached up and shyly threw her hair over one shoulder. “I believe it is quite inappropriate for me to receive you so informally.”

“But nice.” He smiled, knowing that his unexpected arrival did not bother her. There wasn’t a hint of shame in her attitude or her expression. “I believe your reputation can withstand the gossip if anyone finds out I’ve seen you in your morning dress with your hair unbound, don’t you?”

She returned his smile. “No doubt. I sent a message over to you. You must have missed it.”

“No. I received it.”

She gave him a curious look. “You did?”

He saw that she was confused. “Yes.”

“Then you know I have to decline our evening engagements and daytime events, too. I was sure you wouldn’t mind.”

“Oh, but I do.”

Her eyes grew wide with concern. “You do? Is there something wrong?”

“Most definitely.” He stepped closer to her, but had to force his arms to stay by his side and not reach out to touch her face, her hair. “You have handled all this on your own for too long. I came here to tell you that I am going to help you.”

She shook her head, but didn’t take her eyes off his face. She smiled. “Really, Camden, how very sweet of you, but I can’t ask you to help me plan this party. I will manage.”

“I’m not talking about the party. I’m going to help you find that Prince Charming scoundrel.”

Her expression gentled. “What?”

“That’s right. Since you can’t give up your search for the miscreant, I have decided to join you. Between the two of us, we will find him if he is still in England.”

Her lashes fluttered attractively. “Surely you trifle with me, my lord.”

“No, miss, I don’t.”

“This is my concern, not yours. From the start, I never meant for this to affect you in any way.”

“I believe that, but it has. And now it is affecting
us.
I intend to help you.”

“You confound me, sir. I don’t understand why you would help me.”

I
want to be a part of your life. All of it.

“I don’t know what kind of scheme you might come up with next, so I’m going to assist you by taking on the indecent task of examining the necks of strangers at whatever avenue might be afforded me. I can only hope no one will realize what I am doing.”

“You would do that for me? For Sarah?”

“For all of us.”

A grateful smile lightened her beautiful face. “I don’t know what to say or how to thank you, but I do wish I could put my arms around you right now and kiss you.”

Camden cleared his throat to cover the rise in his lower body. “I want that, too. Perhaps we can find a private place and time for that later. Right now, I need to see the diary you mentioned.”

“Sarah’s?”

“She is the lady in question, yes.”

“Oh, I don’t know if I can do that. It has her private writings in it.”

Loyal to a fault.

“Mirabella, the poor girl is dead. I don’t think she’ll be embarrassed by anything she’s written in there. You’ve mentioned the clues that led to your list of suspects. Maybe you missed something of importance that I will catch.”

“I don’t think so. I was very thorough.”

He could always count on her to challenge him. “That may be, but I still think it needs reading with a fresh eye. For example, did she come right out and say this man wasn’t married?”

“No, but how could she expect a man who was already married to marry her?”

“It’s been my experience that young women in love don’t always use common sense.”

“That’s a beastly thing to say, sir. Sarah was not like that.”

“Does her writing actually say he was young? Was there any mention of a title? Or is it possible you assumed some of these things? Is it conceivable one of her dance cards may have been lost?”

“I see your point. Perhaps I presumed a few things. All right. I’ll let you read it.”

Mirabella started to leave the room to go after Sarah’s diary but turned back to Camden. “You know, when you arrived unannounced, I was sure you had come to break our engagement. I thought that after last night, you had decided I was too much trouble.”

He smiled at her and saw her relax. “The word trouble was in my thoughts, but I was thinking more along the lines that the best way to keep you out of trouble is to help you find this man. And that is what we will do.”

It Is Time To Bare All

Everyone in town is talking about the suddenness of the Whittinghams’ Masked Toga Ball. Hmm. It is no surprise that excitement is high. Whittingham hasn’t been seen out in public in more than a year. No one knows if he will attend his own party. Mum seems to be the word.

Miss Whittingham and Lord Stonehurst haven’t been seen at any of the parties in the past week and the viscount is spending most of his time at the clubs. Hmm. One has to wonder if love still blooms, or is it that the lady has been too busy planning her own party? And one has to wonder why a Roman Toga Ball? It’s a perfectly scandalous idea for people to bare their shoulders in public! No doubt the Whittinghams wanted to make sure everyone would attend and, from what this writer has been hearing, everyone of the
ton
will!

How clever to make the ball the day after the Season ends. This writer will see you at the masked ball. You shouldn’t have any trouble recognizing me—hmm. I’ll be dressed just as you are.

—
Lord Truefitt,
Society’s Daily Column

The big day arrived and everything was in place for the party. Mirabella was surprised she didn’t feel nervous as she walked down the stairs of her home dressed in her toga. She had planned well and was confident that she had done all she could to ensure a successful party.

Her dressmaker had done a superb job on her gown, but she felt a little strange without her evening corset and wearing so few underclothes beneath it.

Her toga was made of white silk with a neckline that swooped low under her right arm and lay on the outer edge of her left shoulder. The toga was held together on the left shoulder with a piece of uncut amethyst the size of a ripe plum.

She had taken great care in explaining how she wanted her mask made. She couldn’t have her view obstructed by the lavender and white feathers. Her modiste had taken her ideas and had a craftsman fashion a petite mask that Mirabella thought perfect for the evening.

Her headdress of leaves and vine had been painted the same shade of dark, sparkling purple of the medallion on her shoulder. At the last moment, she added the teardrop amethyst earrings she’d been wearing the first night she met Camden.

Mirabella had been so busy with preparations for the party that she’d only managed to see Camden for a short time on two different occasions. He had stopped by to let her know he was making the rounds at White’s and other gentlemen’s clubs to which he belonged searching for a man with a scar. He’d promised to let her know immediately if he found such a man.

She hadn’t allowed herself to consider the possibility of not finding Prince Charming tonight. He must be in attendance.

Miraculously the Great Hall had been available, which was the perfect place to hold the party. The ballroom of the stately building was already lined with fluted Corinthian columns. The woodwork was painted in gilt, and the walls were decorated with silks and brocades.

Mirabella had solicited the services of three other ladies and a host of temporary servants to help. They had worked tirelessly to see that the tall columns were draped with vines, leaves and tulle. Musicians had been hired and the food and decorations were all in place.

Mirabella walked into the parlor, gasped, smiled and then laughed. Her father sat in his favorite chair dressed in a toga. “Oh, Papa.” She ran to him and hugged his frail frame. “I can’t believe you are dressed for the party. Does this mean you are going with me?”

“You didn’t think I’d miss the first soiree you planned, did you? Silly girl.”

She stood up and looked at him. He seemed extremely pale dressed all in white. His bare shoulder was much too thin, and his arms looked no bigger than hers. His toga was pinned on the left shoulder with a piece of bronze and gray agate. On his head sat a crown of leaves and vine that had been painted silver. Her heart overflowed with love and appreciation for her father.

“I do want you to come, but I’m afraid you’ll get too cold dressed like that. You must put something else on.”

“And not be allowed in my own daughter’s party? I think not.”

“Oh, Papa, you know I never meant that.”

He smiled reassuringly at her. “Nonsense. Everyone knows you were emphatic about the costume. It’s been in the papers every day this week. Besides, I had this made in wool. So I shall be fine. And I do have a matching cloak.”

“I don’t know what to say. I never expected that you would feel well enough to attend.”

“I always planned to join you this evening. Last week I told Archer not to plan to escort you tonight. I will be doing that myself.”

Love for her father made her eyes water. “I’m overwhelmed with happiness.”

“I know, but I don’t want to see any tears even if they are happy ones.” He brushed her away from him.

“There will be no tears from me.”

“Good. Now, I don’t know how long I’ll be able to stay, but I’ll be there for the beginning of the evening. Newton is coming with me. I’ll have him stay by me so if I need to, I can have him get my carriage without any fuss.”

“Papa, you are so good to me. Is it a wonder that I don’t want to marry and leave you?”

He looked up at her and smiled. “Mirabella, my greatest pleasure will be seeing you wed.”

His words stole the breath from her lungs and pierced her with pain. She had always known he wanted her to marry, but for some reason it hit her in the heart this time. Maybe it was that she knew she would never be the bride her father desired her to be. She had thrown that possibility away to become Sarah’s avenger and to protect other innocent young women from Sarah’s fate.

A heavy feeling of guilt threatened to consume her. Mirabella turned away from her father. Was it wrong of her to let him believe she would be married? She was deceiving him, but she had always looked at it as being what was best for him, for his health. Her father loved her dearly and only wanted to see her properly wed and cared for after he was gone.

“But,” her father continued, “I agree that it wasn’t a bad idea to give you time to get to know Lord Stonehurst, and to make sure that he intends to stay in Town and make this his home. I don’t want you to be married to a man who plans to make his home in the Americas.”

Mirabella suddenly realized what her father said could be an easy way out of the engagement for her and Camden. All he had to do was go back to America for a time, but the thought of him being so far away left her with a desolate and empty feeling.

She turned back to her father. “I don’t think that will happen, but if it should, we’ll deal with it at that time. For now, Camden seems happy here.”

“Good.”

“And you seem to be so much better since his return. I’m very happy about that.”

“In some ways I am better. The viscount’s return has forced me to make efforts that seemed too meaningless to bother with before. There are days my heart feels strong, and I want to make the effort to be better for you, dear.”

“Thank you, Papa.”

“Tell me, have the earl and his wife come back for the party?”

“No. Camden said they had pressing business matters to attend to in Lockshaven.”

“I see. No doubt the earl will want to transfer land or other holdings to Camden now that he is to be married. I hear the house at Lockshaven is large and more than comfortable. Maybe you’ll want to visit there later this summer.”

“Maybe,” she answered, really only wanting to change the subject.

Mirabella’s heart constricted. She didn’t want to continue to lie to her father but what else was she to do? Would it be better if she told her father the whole story about Sarah? She knew it would end her relationship with Camden, but living this ruse was getting difficult. She would only grow to love him more and more as the days passed.

“I hope your aunt Helen will be able to travel by late summer,” her father said. “It was such a surprise getting that note from her saying that she had twisted her ankle and was unable to walk.”

“Yes, I hope it doesn’t pain her too much. But as you can see, I was able to plan the party without her. I’m sure she’ll show up as soon as she can travel.”

“At the rate she is moving, you’ll be married before she makes it back to Town. We can’t count on her.”

“Papa, she’s your sister, of course we can count on her. She will be here soon, I’m sure.”

“I hope it works tonight, Daughter.”

Mirabella tensed. How could her father possibly know about Prince Charming? “What do you mean?”

“I want the party to be the best this city has seen in twenty years.”

“Oh, Papa,” she said, relieved. “That will be difficult. London has been host to parties they will be writing about in the history books. I don’t think this shall be one of them.”

“It will be all right with me if it’s not remembered one hundred years from now, but I’d like the
ton
to still be talking about it a year from now.”

She smiled at him and took a deep breath, feeling good about her decision to soon tell her father everything. He loved her and he would forgive her. She couldn’t expect Camden to forgive her transgressions. Saying good-bye to him would be the most difficult thing she had ever had to do.

“That we may be able to accomplish.”

“I’m very proud of you, dear, for planning this party. I never thought you would get everything done in time. I’ve received notes all week from friends and acquaintances I haven’t heard from in more than a year, telling me they have postponed their journeys to their summer homes just so they can attend this ball. You have managed a coup d’etat, my dear.”

She hoped so. She prayed this night would flush out Prince Charming. “Thank you, Papa. Now, I’ll have Newton get your wrap. I must arrive before anyone else.”

***

Masked and in sandals, Mirabella walked to the entrance of the Great Hall, leaving her father seated in the coach until the guests started arriving. She didn’t want him getting tired before the evening began. She stood at the doorway and looked inside the grand ballroom. The room was spectacularly decorated in the finery of a bygone era. The chandeliers were lit and the wall sconces glowed with soft light. Large pots of all white flowers and roses lined the steps.

At the far end of the room stood three long tables laden with silver and crystal dishes filled with such delicacies as chilled oysters, fowl baked in a fig and plum gravy, apples and pears cooked in a brandy sauce. The sparkling champagne glasses were lined up ready to be filled and handed to each guest who entered. The violinist, cellist and flutist were already playing a rousing tune.

The side doors were swung wide and a gentle breeze blew in just enough to flicker the candle flame. From the open doorways, she could see that the clouds had scattered across the spacious night sky and the darkness was beaded with twinkling stars.

She’d had a candle stand set up at the entry way where she would stand so that she would have no trouble seeing everyone’s shoulder when they stopped to greet her. So far everything about the evening was in order.

Mirabella looked at the room and knew she really only wanted one thing to make the evening perfect—to find Prince Charming. She wouldn’t allow herself to think about what she would do should she fail.

Mirabella didn’t know how long she’d been standing there looking into the beautiful room when she heard the soft sound of sandals on marble. She looked behind her and saw a tall, masked man, dressed in a toga, walking toward her. She knew immediately it was Camden. She knew the tilt of his head, the swing of his shoulders, and the glide of his stride. Is that how he’d known her even when she was dressed as a man? Was he as aware of everything about her as she was him?

Mirabella had no doubts that she was in love with Camden. It was natural for her to know everything about him.

As he drew near, she saw that his neck and shoulder were the same golden shade of tan as his face. The exposed area of his chest and arms was thick and muscular.

Mirabella remembered that afternoon when she had touched his damp skin. Her lower abdomen contracted at the thought. It pained her to think that she might never touch him that way again.

His toga was made from heavy white muslin. The piece that held his gown together on his left shoulder was a large stone that was black and shiny as onyx. His fig leaf crown and small feather mask had been painted black to match his shoulder medallion.

When he stood before her, he said, “Miss, I’d like the first and the last dance on your dance card, and all the dances in between.”

Her heart fluttered deliciously and her spirits lifted tremendously. Mirabella looked past his mask into his dark brown eyes. How could she find the courage to give him up when the time came to do so? She couldn’t. She loved him with all her heart. Perhaps she should tell her father everything about Sarah and the ruse and be done with all the secrecy. But did she have the courage to do it knowing the truth would force Camden to walk away from her?

“What a brave man you are to limit yourself to one lady. Tonight the Whittinghams will play host to the most beautiful women in London. However, I will not bind you to your rash offer. I fear I won’t be dancing tonight. I will be here at my post the entire evening watching everyone who arrives.”

“Then I shall stay here by your side.”

“That isn’t necessary and I won’t hear of it. I’m capable. You should enjoy the evening.”

His gaze swept up and down her face. “I know how capable you are, and I will enjoy the evening right here watching over you. Now, tell me, Miss Whittingham, do you think your dressmaker could have cut your toga any lower? I fear the least bit of movement of your right arm will make you show more of your bosom than is proper.”

“Sir, it’s perfectly acceptable for a lady to show her bosom, but quite unacceptable for a man to make reference to it.”

Camden chuckled softly. “A thousand pardons, my lady, but I have seen how beautiful your breasts are, and I don’t want to share their beauty with others. I fear the material of your gown is frightfully thin.”