Once Upon a Masquerade by Tamara Hughes Read Free Book Online Page B

ease the lies slipped off her tongue.
    “I hadn’t noticed.” Mr. Black watched her struggle to affix the large hat.
    She wished Mary was there to help her. She’d left a note asking her to act as chaperone for her ride with Mr. Westerly. Without the Endicott family in residence, Mary enjoyed the freedom of sleeping much later than usual. God only knew when she would arrive. Then again, she was supposed to be sick in Hazel’s eyes.
    Blast, how she hated lying to Hazel, insisting that family problems were the cause of all these outings. Which was largely true, but repeatedly slipping out of the house dressed like this…
    The stubborn stickpin dropped to the ground when she attempted to pierce the thick material. Mr. Black retrieved it and stilled her trembling hands, then pressed the pin through the fabric. “Is something troubling you?”
    She adjusted the pin from where he’d placed it as if well practiced at the art, and the corners of his eyes crinkled. Her pulse skipped a beat. She must look like a child playing dress up, as clumsy as she was with the oversized thing. She scanned the greens behind her, anxious to be away before she said or did anything else unseemly. “My maid has wandered off. I wonder if I should search her out.”
    Already a few people had begun to mill about the park. Given his penchant for pointing out her every blunder, she was surprised he hadn’t mentioned her lack of chaperone. “We’re planning to go coaching with Philip Westerly at midday.”
    A slight frown marred his features. “Permit me to help you find her.”
    She allowed him to lead her back up the steps, unable to think of a reasonable excuse to decline his offer. “Do you know Mr. Westerly?”
    “Not well. He moved to New York just before the season began in the fall.”
    The curt tone of his reply confirmed her suspicions. “You don’t care for him.”
    “No, I don’t.” His features hardened. “He strikes me as an opportunist. Somehow, he manages to take advantage of any situation.”
    His eyes smoldered into hers. With jealousy? Was it Mr. Westerly or her outing with Mr. Westerly that bothered him? The idea frightened and thrilled her. “You said yourself you don’t know him all that well.”
    “I’m a quick judge of character.”
    “Is that so? Have you judged my character as well?”
    “Of course.” Although his voice teased, his features held no humor. “You’re different from the other ladies of the bon ton .”
    “How so?” she asked, dreading his answer.
    “Most society ladies are cool and aloof. You’re carefree, vibrant.”
    “Is that good?”
    “Some might disagree, but I think so.”
    Shimmery warmth filled her chest. She tried to tamp down the unfamiliar feeling. It would only lead to trouble.
    “There’s a shyness about you, as if you’re trying to hide something from everyone. Or just from me.” He peered down into her face, his eyes searching, curious. “You are an exceedingly beautiful mystery, one that intrigues me and one that I plan to solve.”
    A jolt of panic seared through her. He was too observant by far. How long could she last before he saw through her charade?
    She picked up her pace, and her foot snagged on a rock nestled in the grass. Her breath caught as she fell forward. Strong arms encircled her and drew her back. Excitement pulsed within her when she came up against his solid chest. A part of her relished his embrace and the illusion of being protected and safe. But that’s all it was. An illusion.
    She straightened, her heart stumbling over itself. “You’re wrong. There’s no mystery to solve.” Seizing the cumbersome hat that had pitched to the side, she worked to set it aright, finding it no easier than the last time she’d tried.
    He handed her the feather duster that had dropped to the ground and adjusted the pins, easily securing the hat. His hand brushed her cheek, and his gaze locked with hers. “I think there is.”
    Her skin tingled,