A Masked Deception

Brampton also saw the carriage pull out of the shadows and take his angel away. The carriage was unmarked, the horses unidentifiable in the dark, the coachman masked and well covered with a dark cloak. He had gained no answers, then, from thus spying on her. But she must be a member of the Quality, as he had suspected. The conveyance and horses had appeared expensive. The coachman had been prompt in meeting his lady. She had loyal followers, then. He hoped that she would not be caught and questioned by the old fool of a husband that he had her coupled with in his imagination.

Brampton lit the candles, dressed at a leisurely pace, and wandered into Devin's library in search of a brandy decanter. He felt himself honor-bound to wait out the half-hour. That time limit was not going to seem half as tedious as the week he would have to live through before seeing her and holding her again, he thought ruefully.

Chapter 8

In the following week it seemed to Margaret as if her hopes for an attachment between Charlotte and Captain Charles Adair were to be realized. He visited daily, always claiming that he came to see both ladies, but he usually ended up near Charlotte, talking to her almost exclusively, while Margaret entertained any other visitors who happened to be there, or sat quietly at her embroidery if there were none. On several afternoons Charlotte was invited to drive in the park with the captain. Margaret was asked to join them too, on each occasion, but each time she felt as if she had been invited as a polite afterthought. Each time she declined.

One evening they spent at Almack's, the famous Marriage Mart, where guests danced and socialized by strict invitation only, in the form of vouchers granted by one of four patronesses. Charlotte's pretty face and figure and her bubbly personality ensured her plenty of partners. But Margaret was especially pleased to see her dance twice with Charles. It would have been improper for her to dance more times with him than that, but she sat with him during a few more dances, talking and laughing and fa

Margaret was pleased. She herself danced absent-mindedly with several of her husband's friends, and she chattered with her female acquaintances. But she was not bent on her own amusement. All her interest was pi

"Lady Brampton, may I have the honor?" The languid voice and the lace-covered hand belonged to Devin Northcott.

She smiled, laid her hand in his, and allowed him to lead her onto the floor. As the orchestra began to play, she realized with a feeling of disappointment that it was a waltz. She had hoped that Richard would waltz with her once. She smiled calmly up at Devin as she placed a small, gloved hand on his shoulder and followed him into the rhythm of the dance. A quick glance showed her that Brampton was still deep in conversation, his back to the dance floor. Charlotte and Charles, who was looking unexpectedly magnificent in blue satin civilian clothes, were seated together in an alcove of the large ballroom, seemingly with eyes only for each other. This was the second dance she had sat out with him. Margaret made a mental note to make sure that they were separated for the next set. It would not do to allow gossip to develop, at Almack's of all places.

"You dance very daintily, ma'am. Feel as if I had a feather in m' arms," commented Devin.

"Thank you, sir," Margaret replied, "but a woman can only be as good a dancer as her partner, you know." She smiled again as he turned her in the dance, and caught Brampton's eye as he faced around and lazily sca

"Is Captain Adair feeling better?" asked Devin conversationally. "Notice he don't wear his arm in a sling anymore."

"I believe he wore it that first night only to put his mama's mind at rest," Margaret said with a chuckle. "Maybe he also knew that it gave him a very romantical look."

"Wouldn't know about that, ma'am," he said with a cough.

"Oh, ask any of the ladies," she said airily.

"Very close family, the Adairs," said Devin. "He spends a lot of time with Bram?"

"Not really," said Margaret. "He visits our house every day, but Richard is usually away in the afternoons."

There was silence for a while. Margaret felt a little uncomfortable. Devin knew that Charles spent most afternoons with her and her sister. He had been there himself on a few of those occasions. And he had excused himself early, without any of his usual invitations for Charlotte to drive out with him. Margaret felt a little sorry for him. She did not wish to see him hurt, but she could not really think him a suitable partner for her very young sister.

Devin coughed again. "Really not my business, Lady Bram," he said, forgetting for the moment that he had never before called her by the shortened form of her name, "but should Miss Wells be so long with the same partner? All the same to me, but the old tabbies can be pretty vicious, y'know."

Margaret raised her eyebrows. "Indeed, Mr. Northcott," she said rather frostily, "I have been observing her carefully and had pla

Devin blushed rather painfully and opened his mouth to speak.

"May I claim a husband's privilege and cut in on you, Dev?" asked a pleasant and dearly familiar voice from behind Margaret, and before she knew it, she had changed partners and was being twirled into the waltz by a much more confident and competent partner. Although the tempo of the dance had not changed, Margaret was having difficultly catching her breath. She fixed her eyes on the complicated folds of Brampton's neckcloth. Only once did she look up into his face, but she immediately looked down again-and momentarily stumbled-when she found his eyes fixed steadily on her, their expression quite unreadable. His hand tightened reassuringly against the small of her back. She smiled fleetingly in the general direction of his chin.

"Pardon me, Richard," she said. She was feeling a growing ball of tension building inside her. Only a few evenings before he had danced with her at Vaux-hall. Surely he would recognize at any moment that he was holding the same woman.

"You will be making me jealous, my dear," he said very quietly, "if you smile so sweetly at all your dancing partners."

Margaret's eyes shot up to his. His eyes were gleaming, but she was not sure if it was with amusement or not. Before she could respond, he spoke again.

"I see that Dev is performing our duty," he said, and Margaret looked to the alcove where she had last seen Charlotte and Charles tete-a-tete. Now they were standing, and Devin was talking to them in his languid ma

"We must watch the proprieties more carefully where Charlotte is concerned," Brampton said, looking back to his wife, the gleam now gone from his eyes. She had the feeling that she was being scolded, that he had really meant "You must watch…"

Brampton was not sure himself whether his words to his wife had been meant teasingly or not. He had felt unaccountably irritated a few minutes before to see her looking so happy in Northcott's arms. His hand splayed on her back had looked too intimate; her hand on his shoulder had seemed too close to his neck. Yet he had caught himself up in the thoughts with a grimace of self-mockery. Was he jealous of his little mouse of a wife?