Once Upon a Masquerade (13 page)

Chapter Eleven

WITH A HEAVY HEART, REBECCA examined the palm of her hand, the skin thick and rough. While Mary arranged her hair for dinner, she sat at the dressing table and studied her reflection in the mirror before her. Green eyes stared back, and her gaze softened. She recognized those eyes. They were her mother’s.

The woman in the mirror looked as she always did. The hair and gown didn’t change who she was inside. She would always be her mother’s daughter, the one who did her best to take care of her father.

Closing her eyes, she inhaled a deep breath.

Was that all she wanted to be? Her father’s protector? She’d finally found someone she could love. A man who was considerate and caring, brave and strong. Wouldn’t it be better to chase after him and fail than to forever dream of what might have been?

Her lids opened, and a flicker of hope and determination lit those green eyes. It was time to fight for what
she
wanted most.

If she’d learned anything about Christopher, it was that he didn’t give up on someone because the situation looked lost. She would do the same. His reasons for helping her might stem more from honor than caring, but she could change that. Although Christopher didn’t love her, he wasn’t indifferent to her. If she gave him her full attention, could he so easily cast her from his life? If he came to care for her, perhaps he would overlook her circumstances. It was worth the risk.
He
was worth the risk. Ultimately, even if he rejected her, at least she would know she’d taken the chance.

“There, all done.” Mary stepped back to survey her work with a smile.

Rebecca turned her head from side to side. Her hair rose in large curls like a silky bow atop her head. “Absolutely wonderful.”

“Thank you.” Mary set a choker and earbobs on the dressing table, then retrieved a pair of slippers.

Lifting the necklace, Rebecca studied the paste diamonds, their glassy planes twinkling in the glow of the lanterns. “Are you sure these aren’t real?”

Mary pulled the piece from her grasp and settled the heavy band around Rebecca’s neck, fastening it into place. “Of course they’re not real. How do you think I’d come by real diamonds?”

When Mary would have grasped the earrings, Rebecca clamped her hand around them. “Mary, be truthful.”

Mary turned toward the bed to fold a gown that lay across its surface. “What do you mean? I am telling the truth.”

“Christopher insists the gems on the comb I wore to the Vanderbilts’ ball were genuine. And I believe him.”

Ignoring her comment, Mary packed the gown into the trunk. Her sudden productivity convinced Rebecca all the more.

“Mary.”

“All right. They’re Victoria’s.” Mary dropped back onto the bed and stared up at the ceiling. “What could I do? You needed to appear a lady, and I didn’t have any other means to dress you like one.”

With an inward groan, Rebecca gazed down at her stunning red dress. “And the gowns?” Her friend’s silence smothered the air in the room. “Are they Miss Endicott’s as well?”

Mary propped herself up into a sitting position. “Victoria took a dozen trunks to Chicago, and her wardrobe is still full. She won’t miss a thing.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” She rose from her chair, disgusted with both Mary and herself.

“Everything had gone so well your first time out, I didn’t want to spoil it by admitting I’d failed you. What harm have we done? You’re practically the same size as Victoria. The gowns, the jewels, everything can be returned with no one the wiser.”

“I wouldn’t have continued had I known.” Even as Rebecca spoke the words, she wondered if they were true. She didn’t know anything for sure anymore.

After unclasping the choker, she set it on the dressing table with the earrings. While she could do nothing about the gowns, the jewels were another matter.

“Rebecca, no self-respecting lady would dare be seen with only an old silver locket about her neck.”

That might be true. Even so, tonight she would do what she wanted to, not the sensible thing, not what was expected, but what felt right.

When Rebecca left the room, Christopher wasn’t waiting for her in the hall as he had been that morning. With so much commotion inside the hallways, she could understand why he deemed the gesture unnecessary, although she’d hoped to see him anyway.

She walked down the long hallway, mentally preparing herself for her first meeting with Christopher since their argument. They hadn’t spoken all afternoon. While she’d stayed within his sight, he’d avoided her.

What mood would greet her now? Would he be sullen, as he’d been this morning, or angry? And how should she react to whatever he had in store? She could pretend their argument had never occurred or apologize for her part in it.

No, she couldn’t do that. It would be far better to ignore the whole event than to win his affection with even more lies.

Rolling her lip between her teeth, she slowed her pace. She should relieve his mind about the possibility of a child. All afternoon, she’d regretted not telling him. She’d been wrong to torture him so.

She reached the top of the staircase leading down to the main salon. Many partygoers already milled about waiting for dinner to be announced. Even with his back turned to her, she easily spied Christopher clad in a well-tailored black suit amid the small groups below. The way he stood, with his legs braced as if he was on the deck of a rocking ship, set him apart from everyone around him.

A few of his companions looked in her direction as she descended the staircase. Noticing their stares, he turned around. His piercing eyes found her, and a jolt of electricity raced through her chest. She held her breath as his eyes dipped lower to her snug bodice, which revealed more skin than she’d ever dared. After a slight pause, his gaze slid to the curve of her waist and down her skirt to the short train extending behind her. Her nerves tingled under his careful scrutiny. She held her chin high and prayed she wouldn’t trip from the sudden weakness in her knees.

Christopher turned back to the group of gentlemen around him, and disappointment slowed her steps, her eyes trained on his back. Would he ignore her?

To her utter surprise, after speaking a few words, Christopher left the men and strode over to meet her at the bottom of the steps. She gave him her brightest smile and stepped down beside him. “Good evening, sir.”

“Madam.” His restrained demeanor gave no hint of his mood.

Stepping away from the landing to provide room to the other ladies joining the gathering mass below, they moved into the area between the two staircases. She tried to keep their conversation light. “Did you have a pleasant afternoon? It seems you know most everyone here.”

Those hazel eyes speared her through. “I couldn’t stop thinking about our earlier conversation.”

“Earlier conversation?”

He pinned her with an exasperated look. “What if you’re carrying my child?”

He’d worried all afternoon? “For heaven’s sake, we were together one time.” Now was the moment to put his mind at ease. She only wished she’d done so earlier. “Besides, you don’t need to worry because it isn’t true.”

“Do you know that for certain?”

“Yes,” she whispered back, for the first time feeling a tiny bit sad that it was so.

“You bleed?”

Mortified, she looked around them, praying they wouldn’t be overheard. “Not exactly.”

“Then how do you know?” He looked ready to shake the answer from her.

Heat rose to her cheeks. Did he honestly expect her to explain? “There are certain signs that always appear before…” The words caught in her throat. She couldn’t go on. “Trust me, I’m certain.”

He brushed his hand through his thick hair with a relieved grin, then stiffened. Rebecca followed his steadfast gaze to a petite brunette in a powder-blue gown several shades lighter than her stunning eyes. With pale peach skin and fine-boned features, the young woman looked like a life-size doll. The woman glanced in their direction and her slight smile transformed her face into a vision of perfection.

“Who is she?”

Her question broke his hypnotic stare, and Christopher cleared his throat. “Her name is Adele Gebhardt.”

Gebhardt? Perhaps relation to Nathan Gebhardt?

An older couple joined the woman. Seeing where her attention lay, they ushered her across the room, but not before Rebecca recognized the look in Miss Gebhardt’s eyes, the longing and sadness in their depths.

Her heart lurched. “Who is she to you?” she asked, her voice no more than a whisper.

“No one, anymore.” His voice reflected regret. “We were engaged at one time.”

Engaged? No…formerly engaged. She pasted a smile onto her lips she didn’t feel in the least. “She looks to be a lovely lady. What happened?”

He gave a low, harsh laugh. “With the exception of her brother, her family never approved of me. I have no noble lineage and I’ve only come upon money in the last decade.”

“But you asked for her hand anyway.”

“Yes,” he said in a distracted grumble. “Adele insisted she loved me, that she would defy her parents to marry me.”

“What changed her mind?” Surely, she appreciated the man inside more than those superficial things.

Christopher studied Miss Gebhardt, his eyes never straying. “On my last voyage, her brother died and Adele’s mother took to her bed with grief. When I returned, Adele broke our engagement, fearing the stress of our unsuitable relationship would be too much for the woman.” He nodded toward Miss Gebhardt and her parents, a frown tugging at his lips. “Her mother’s recovery has changed nothing.”

“Maybe there’s still hope.” Not that she wanted to encourage him, but the look on his face…

His brows slanted as if he were almost annoyed by her suggestion. “A year has passed, and no word. She’s made her decision.”

He’d waited a year, for Adele? “Is that why you haven’t returned to sailing?”

He shook his head, his frown dipping a bit lower. “Believing I was going to retire for good, I’d trained in a new captain—a married man with five children who needed the money far more than I did.”

“How noble of you.”

“Not really. I have a new ship that will be ready to sail in a matter of weeks.”

Oh, that soon. “I’m glad,” she lied, struggling to keep her sudden melancholy from showing. Now wasn’t the time to mourn. He wasn’t gone yet. She searched her mind for a way to lighten the mood, and came up with nothing. “Well, I had no idea you’d been engaged,” she said, more to fill the silence than anything else.

His attention turned from Miss Gebhardt to scrutinized Rebecca, his gaze intense. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me.”

That statement sounded a lot like a challenge, but at least he wasn’t peering at Miss Gebhardt anymore with that dispirited look in his eyes. “Indeed? Tell me something I don’t know.”

He scowled.

“Anything. I’m curious,” she tried again.

“What is this, Rebecca?”

“What do you mean? I’m making polite conversation before we sit down for dinner.”

“Very well. My father’s best friend is the Chief of Police.” For some reason he paused as if to assess her reaction to this random fact. “I’ve been working with him on a murder case.”

Now that was surprising. “Is investigation another talent of yours I’m unaware of?”

“I have a special interest in this case. The victim was a good friend.”

As dinner was announced, she thought about who the victim might be. She could only remember hearing of one high society person who’d perished under mysterious circumstances. “Mr. Gebhardt?” she asked in a hushed tone, her eyes darting to the woman they’d just seen. “Was he related to Miss Gebhardt?”

“He was her brother.”

Oh, dear. “Do you have any idea who the murderer might be? Is he someone I might know?”

“Not he, she. And I have one person whom I’ve been watching closely. Someone who’s here tonight.” He spoke carefully, his eyes boring into hers.

“Can you tell me who?” she asked, looking around them.

Most guests had adjourned into the dining room. She scanned each woman left. In their fine gowns and glittering jewels, none appeared to be what she would expect a murderer to look like, not that she would know a killer if she saw one.

Christopher didn’t turn to survey the room. He stayed focused on her and said nothing more.

She understood why he couldn’t confide in her. Most likely he’d been sworn to secrecy. Still, she was happy he’d trusted her enough to tell her what he had. “I’m sorry my problems have been taking you from your investigation.”

“Don’t worry, they haven’t,” he said, looking away from her. Again he seemed cold and distant, dashing her hopes that this evening they could be on more pleasant terms.

Her spirits flagged as they made their way to the dining room, where a linen-covered table stretched out along the length of the hall. Mr. Henley waved them over as if he’d been watching for them.

Christopher pulled out her chair before sliding into his own, and Mr. Henley introduced them to several couples. Soon a conversation about the pending opening of the Brooklyn Bridge ensued. After fourteen years of construction, the giant suspension bridge would finally be open to the public.

Rebecca sat quietly while Christopher joined in the lively discussion. As talk began of how each planned to celebrate the grand opening, she scanned the table wondering if she would see anyone she’d met before.

Her eyes passed over Adele Gebhardt seated mid-way down the table and spied Philip Westerly chatting with a striking brunette in a daring gold-colored dress, his arm resting on the back of her chair. Only hours ago, she’d seen him in an ardent embrace with Mary. Maybe Christopher had been right about him. She hoped Mary knew what sort of man she was dealing with, although she suspected Mary had much more experience in these matters than she did.

Mr. Henley’s voice interrupted her musings. “Miss Bailey, may I say you look bewitching?”

“Thank you,” she replied, taking the compliment as nothing more than a host’s duty.

Accepting a plate of stuffed prawns, he continued, “I do hope you enjoy this evening’s entertainment.”