Love, Unmasked by Vivian Roycroft Read Free Book Online

position, much as she’d yanked at Jessica’s arm minutes ago.
    Fidelity stumbled into place, too shocked to resist, and cold realization flooded her. She didn’t feel flattered because he had no intention of flattering her. There was no compliment in his manner, no attention worth the having. No, she’d offended him, and he wanted her and the rest of the crowd to know it.
    How ruddy rude.
    “So why did you leave the dance, Diana ?”
    If he put any more emphasis on her false name, he’d wear it out. Which would be a pity, for she’d just assumed it.
    Calm, serene, unflappable. Easy to appreciate and love — desperately she repeated her usual soothing chant, but wisps of anger slid past her defenses and the coldness in her chest deepened. Rude. Not brusque, not merely demanding, but rude. He’d been more rude than the most jaundiced rake, the saltiest sailor, the most villainous highwayman. At the evening’s start, she’d been ready to abandon her virtue for the man. And he’d returned nothing but slights and rudeness.
    So much for Brightenburg’s company being no punishment. She’d yearned for his attention for such an achingly long time, but now that she had it, she couldn’t say she valued it.
    And from this new perspective, his earlier question carried a different and disturbing meaning. “Will you give me your name?” he’d asked at the first dance’s opening. At least, those had been his words. But what he’d meant was, Will you give me control over you? For if he’d learned her identity…
    No, she wouldn’t do it. She’d not give him her name nor her virtue, not after such appalling behavior on his part. And the relief that swept through her at the decision was both a surprise and, in itself, another relief. She could expect proper propriety from her cousins without a blush for herself.
    And in her turn, she had no intention of telling him the truth. Jessica might be determined to ruin herself, but Fidelity refused to assist. But she had to tell him something — why did you leave the dance, Diana? — or he’d become even more unbearable. Thankfully, she needn’t think hard for a believable white lie.
    “I’d just realized that young whippersnapper was in attendance — you know, the one in the red half-mask? — and I won’t allow my — my nieces to keep such company.” Quick catch, that; if she’d admitted the girls were her cousins, she’d have given him a clue in the hunt he surely intended to mount after the ball. Behind her mask, she allowed herself a smile. “I do apologize, but it seemed best to warn him off before he made a nuisance of himself.”
    Again the lines faded into squares. Again they joined hands, glided in a circle, and returned to position.
    And again he laughed. But a brittleness in his tone hinted he didn’t believe her. “You mean Tate the younger? Oh, aye, I can certainly see where you’d be concerned about him .” He lowered his voice as they stepped close together and began their own, private circle. “He’s purely savage, he is, at the ripe age of sixteen.”
    Tate the younger? The painfully shy, polite, studious younger son of the Earl of Danvers? Heat swept into Fidelity’s face. Perhaps she hadn’t chosen her fictitious villain all that well, even if he had been leading Jessica into the back garden when caught. Or maybe Jessica had been leading him. He’d certainly let go of her arm fast enough.
    Whoever had been at fault, Fidelity’s lie was apparent and there was nothing she could do except bluster it out. “My dear sir, if you had the guidance of two young and mischievous nieces, even for a single evening, believe me, you wouldn’t ignore the sinful potential in such a handsome young man, either.”
    His eyes narrowed. No, he didn’t believe her. “Sinful.” He drawled out the word as if tasting it, waited for her to advance with the dance, then repeated it at a whisper, inches from her face. “Sinful. You’d know something of that,