Olivia and the Masked Duke
is not so much a tune for ancient folk as it is for those in love?”“Speaking of love, let’s help Livy find Hadleigh,” Glory said. “The waltz shan’t last forever.”
The three hurried off to circle the perimeter of the ballroom. Livy had to stop now and again to accept the guests’ well-wishes. Finally, she spotted Hadleigh: he was standing by the champagne fountain, his back to her…and he was conversing with the most beautiful woman Livy had ever laid eyes upon. The lady had golden hair the color of honey, her willowy figure draped in a stylish gown of claret taffeta. She was tall, only a few inches shorter than Hadleigh, and she looked around his age.
“Heavens.” Even Fiona, the Incomparable, sounded awed. “Who is that glorious creature?”
“I do not know.” Livy squared her shoulders. “But I am going to find out.”
She marched over and cleared her throat.
Hadleigh turned around, and her heart gave a silly hiccup. Lord, he was handsome. His classic bone structure could have graced a statue, the strong slant of his cheekbones and chiseled jut of his jaw meant to be immortalized. Yet no marble could capture his eyes: they were bruised sapphires, pain and beauty moving through them like shadow and light.
To Livy, Hadleigh was the epitome of male virility, especially in formal evening wear. During his period of seclusion, he had gained at least three stone, all of it in muscle. His elegant midnight tailcoat clung lovingly to his broad shoulders and lean torso, his trousers skimming his narrow hips and muscular legs. Realizing that she was ogling him, Livy jerked her gaze back up to his face…and that didn’t help her longing at all.
One thing that hadn’t changed about Hadleigh was his preference for wearing his hair a trifle long. The thick brown waves gleamed beneath the chandelier and added a sensual touch to his hard-edged masculinity.
“If it is not the elusive birthday girl.” The warmth in Hadleigh’s eyes set off a flutter in Livy’s chest. As he bowed, his gaze travelled beyond her, his mouth curving. “Accompanied by her intrepid companions, the Willflowers.”
The fluttering stopped. He made her sound like a twelve-year-old with her troop of fellow tots, for heaven’s sake.
“As I am nineteen, I am no longer a girl,” Livy pointed out. “Nor am I difficult to find. That is, if one was actually bothering to look.”
Drat. Now I sound like a jealous nincompoop.
“I stand corrected.” Hadleigh’s dark brows inched upward. “Are you young women acquainted with Lady Charlotte Fayne?”
Catching his sardonic emphasis, Livy flushed.
“I have not had the pleasure of meeting these lovely young ladies,” Lady Fayne said.
The woman had a voice like mulled cider, earthy and warm. Her curtsy was a thing of art, and her graciousness made Livy feel smaller than an ant.
Hadleigh made the introductions.
“Your dress is beautiful, Lady Fayne,” Fiona said. “The very height of fashion.”
“Thank you, Miss Garrity. I must return the compliment two-fold.”
Fiona preened. Livy bit back a scowl.
“His Grace was just telling me about the Willflowers,” Lady Fayne went on. “What a delightful moniker.”
“A classmate thought she could bully us with it, but we turned the tables on her.” Glory lifted her chin. “We are proud to be Willflowers.”
“And you ought to be.” Lady Fayne’s smile reached her grey eyes. “To be beautiful, bright, and bold is a rare combination indeed.”
“Bold is one way to put it. Livy was voted the Most Stubborn Debutante at her finishing school,” Hadleigh said.
Livy narrowed her gaze. “That was Most Determined Debutante, as well you know.”
His reply was a bland smile.
“There is a difference,” she insisted.
His smile turned even blander.
Argh.
“Livy, wasn’t there something you needed His Grace’s help with?” Fiona said pointedly.
Right. Concentrate on the plan. On seducing Hadleigh…not strangling him.
Inhaling, she mustered up her sweetest look. “That’s right. I do need your help.”
“With what?” he asked.
“I will show you when we get there.”
“How mysterious,” Lady Fayne murmured. “You mustn’t make the lady wait, Your Grace.”
“It is a matter of importance,” Glory said.
“And great urgency,” Fiona added.
“All right, all right.” His expression beleaguered and eyes amused, Hadleigh offered Livy his arm. “Lead the way.”
3
“This thing you require my assistance with is in the garden?” Hadleigh asked.
Having led the way to a secluded stone bench surrounded by flowering hedges, Livy turned to face him. The scene was set for romance: music drifted from the ballroom, jasmine perfumed the night air, and the moon glowed like a beacon for lovers. The silvery light limned her hero’s face, emphasizing the stern edges, the lines of experience enhancing his handsomeness. Above the crisp folds of his cravat, his mouth retained a faint curve as he regarded her.
It’s now or never. Do not be a wilting violet. Take your chance.
She took a breath. “I wanted to talk to you. In private.”
“Actually, I wanted the same thing.”
His unexpected reply gave her thumping heart another jolt.
“You did?” she asked.
“Indeed.” His smile curled her toes in her slippers. “We have not seen each other much of late, and I have missed your company, Livy.”
Mesmerized by his tender expression, she felt light-headed with hope. Had Hadleigh realized that he was in love with her? Had he missed her as much as she had missed him?
“Then why haven’t you called more often?” she blurted.
When her question snuffed out his tender expression, she wanted to kick herself. His long lashes briefly veiled his gaze before he spoke.
“I’ve had business to attend to,” he said.
“What kind of business?”
“Nothing of import, little one.”
“I am not little anymore,” she retorted. “I am a grown woman.”
“Right. How could I have forgotten?” Reaching over, he tweaked one of her artfully dislodged curls. “You are so ladylike these days. Not at all like the tree-climbing hoyden I once knew.”
Gah. She would not let him evade her question, however.
“Do these ‘matters’ concern Lady Fayne?” she asked suspiciously.
“No, I only met the lady tonight.” He drew his brows together. “Why would you bring her up?”
Because I have a silly, envious heart?
“No reason,” Livy muttered