Page 28 of The Heiress in Disguise
And yet, she realized, she didn’t want to avoid him. His dark, penetrating stare lingered in her mind.
She wanted to see him again.
Chapter 12
Well, there’s no going back now, Antoine thought as he made his way into the ballroom and joined the merrymakers. He couldn’t undo what he had just done. He had gone into the servants’ quarters hoping that he might be lucky enough to see Angelique there, not even worrying about what he would do if he ran into one of the servants. And he had been lucky—he had found her, and she had been alone.
He hadn’t planned how he would handle that moment. All he’d known, after looking up and seeing her standing on that balcony, was that he needed to see her again. He needed to know that she was all right. She had looked so out of place up there, forced into the role of a servant when she should have been a host of this party.
This was the house that had once belonged to her parents. There was, truly, no excuse for the fact that she was forced to slink about in shadows and keep herself out of sight.
He’d never planned to tell her that he knew who she was. He didn’t know why he had done that, except for the fact that when he had seen her standing there, he’d been unable to do anything else. He had called out her name as a reflex, and when she had turned to face him, there had been no sense in not acknowledging what he had said.
She had heard him. What could he have possibly done—pretend that he had been talking to someone else? Try to lie and tell her that hehadsaid Ella, and that she must have misunderstood? She’d heard him say her name, and that had left him with no choice but to admit that he knew who she was.
Well, good. Perhaps knowing that someone understood thatAngeliquewas still here would be a source of comfort to her. He would hope for that. All he wanted was to make this dismal life she was leading a bit brighter.
Of course, he recalled, she had told him—when he was posing as Philip—that she was happy in her life, and he did believe that she’d told the truth. She’d had no cause to lie to Philip, and her words had seemed genuine enough. Still, though, he worried about her. He knew that he wouldn’t stop worrying about her until he had gotten her out of this situation.
He had entered the ballroom, and he didn’t even notice that it had fallen silent—that was, not at first. But now he registered the lack of noise around him and looked up.
The guests were staring at him. Whispering to one another.
Of course. He was here as Lord Stephens, but nobodyknewLord Stephens. He hadn’t been expected by anyone. No one was looking for him, and there would be no one in this room whocould say to a friend,ah, yes, I know who that is. Of course, they were all trying to guess his identity.
He looked around the room. Everyone seemed engaged in a hushed conversation, but so many pairs of eyes were on him. He hadn’t come here wishing to be noticed, but he was certainly being noticed now. Would he still be able to find out the things he wanted to learn about Angelique, about what had led to her current situation, if he was the talk of the party? It wasn’t looking very good.
A young lady in a pale pink gown and a mask with a gaudy butterfly wing sticking off to one side of her face appeared before him. It took Antoine only a moment to understand that this was Lady Gwyneth. Her pale blonde hair and narrow chin and the smug set of her lips left him in no doubt. Would she recognize him as easily as he had recognized her? He hoped not.
“Good evening, my lord,” she said. “I don’t believe I saw you come in.”
That made sense. He hadn’t identified her at the time—his attention had been taken up by Angelique, up on the balcony—but now he recalled seeing this lady descending the stairs as he had come in. She had been caught up in her own announcement and the admiration of her guests, so he wasn’t surprised that his own entrance had gone unnoticed by her.
This being a masquerade, of course, he wasn’t compelled to make an introduction. “You look lovely tonight, my lady,” he told her. “That mask is exquisite.”
“Isn’t it?” She giggled. “I had to have the finest one in the shop. Mother put up quite the argument, but in the end, I got her to agree. She knows how important it is for me to have the best of everything for an occasion such as this.”
“Forgive me,” he said. “But I believe I know who you are.”
She didn’t seem to mind at all. In fact, he thought she looked rather delighted. “Do you really?”
“I believe you to be Lady Gwyneth, who lives in this house.”
“Well, you’re very clever,” she said. “Do you promise not to tell anyone?”
“Of course,” he assured her. “I have no wish to spoil the fun for anyone else.”
“But you have me at a disadvantage,” she told him. “You know who I am, but I still have no idea who you are.”
“I doubt you know me,” he told her. “I’m not from London.”
Technically, it was the truth, of course—he had come here from France, and shedidn’tknow him. But they had met before. He didn’t need her knowing that, though.
“You’re not going to give me your name?” she asked coquettishly.
“It’s a masquerade,” he pointed out.
“You knowmyname.”
