Page 13 of Never Dare to Masquerade with a Maiden

Wandering the streets of Mayfair by instinct alone, Warren found himself headed down Park Lane. It had been surprisingly easy for him to think like the girl who had been his constant companion since the incident. In fact, her voice was so ingrained he could hear her answers to his questions even if she wasn’t physically present.

Anne had returned from her travels for a friend. A friend whose name she had not cared to share. Thus, he would wager she would strategize a way for it to appear that they were to meet upon happenstance. Promenading Hyde Park would be the perfect solution. He walked through the main gates and searched for Anne. Nodding to acquaintances as he strolled past them, granting friends brief smiles but not stopping, Warren found himself marching away from the main thoroughfare and into quieter sections of the park.

A fluttering of red in the sky caught his attention. Anne loved to fly kites.

Focused on the object above, he wasn’t paying much heed to where he was walking until a peal of female laughter drew his attention. Eyes squinted, he narrowed his gaze upon two ladies with their skirts hiked up above their ankles. Transfixed on the sight, Warren treaded closer, and to his utter shock, he recognized Lady Charlotte running alongside the very same Miss Olivia he’d mused over, in what looked like a foot race. What in the blazes were the pair up to? In order not to be discovered, he ducked behind a tree to observe.

The ladies appeared to have arrived at their chosen finish line because, with hands on her knees and bent at the waist, Lady Charlotte laughed and declared, “I won.”

Miss Olivia stood in front of the countess with her hands on her hips, chest heaving, and a broad smile that stole Warren’s breath. “Are you certain?”

“Are you questioning me?” Lady Charlotte asked between gulping breaths.

“I would never!” Both women broke out into laughter.

The glint of sunlight off a necklace prompted Warren to move forward and leave the safety of the tree. Dangling free about Miss Olivia’s neck was his signet ring.

He’d found her!

Miss Olivia is my angel. A wave of relief and anticipation rolled through him.

“Lord Guernsey! What say you? I reached the tree first, did I not?” Lady Charlotte came to stand next to him. She had been labeled a hoyden when she was younger and appeared to still display the traits of which she’d been accused, having been orphaned at a young age and left alone for long periods by her brother the Duke of Avondale. “Pray confirm for me who indeed was the winner, for my dear friend, Miss Olivia, and I have wagered upon the outcome.” The countess wrapped an arm about her companion, whose cheeks were flushed and eyes sparkling.

“Is that so? And this wager is of great import?” he answered, before thinking it might be wiser to remain uninvolved.

“Hmm. I suppose that depends on who won.” Lady Charlotte gave Miss Olivia a tight squeeze.

His gaze fell to his signet ring nestled between the valley of Miss Olivia’s bosoms. Bosoms. He’d been searching for a girl for a decade, only to be now faced with an alluring lady who caused his heart to beat faster the longer he was in her presence. He forced himself to raise his gaze, which was met with a daring glare from the lady he owed.

Shifting his attention to the countess, he said, “Lady Charlotte…” His voice cracked, and he paused to clear his throat before continuing, “I’m sorry to inform you but Miss Olivia reached the tree a smidgen before you did.”

“Are you absolutely certain, Lord Guernsey?” Miss Olivia asked, her head half-cocked to the side, giving him a perfect view of her elegant neck and the silver chain he had longed to have again, if the woman wearing it came with it.

“I am.”

Miss Olivia elbowed Lady Charlotte in the ribs. She let out an exaggerated, “Ow.” Rubbing her side, the countess added, “Lord Guernsey, I’ve a confession to make. I’ve promised Miss Olivia here to tell you the truth…”

He raised a hand, halting Lady Charlotte mid-speech. “Lady Charlotte, having lived with two willful women for the majority of my life, I know better than to become embroiled in such matters. Confessions rarely bring about resolution, and the truth is dependent upon a person's perspective. You owe me no explanations.”

“See, Miss Olivia, you were worried for naught. I told you Lord Guernsey posed no threat.” Lady Charlotte quickly bid him a good day and practically dragged Miss Olivia, who was staring back over her shoulder at him as if he’d betrayed her somehow, away.

He watched the women depart and hoped they stayed out of mischief. Women who raced in the park with their ankles exposed for all the ton to see surely were up to no good on their own.

But now that he’d found his angel, he needed a plan. A plan to become reacquainted with her. Miss Olivia must surely remember him, since she still wore his signet ring on a chain about her neck. Or had she too fell ill with a fever after fishing him out of the pond?

As soon as the ladies disappeared down the crowded path, Warren searched the sky for the kite. He needed to find Anne. She would know what to do next. Except there was nothing in sight but big, white, puffy clouds.

Perhaps she’d made her way home. He began striding across the park back toward the entrance where he spied Anne casually strolling along the path up ahead. Of course, she was alone, unaccompanied and unchaperoned. Her normally perfect posture was absent, her shoulders ever so slightly rolled forward. Anne was upset.

He rushed toward her, wanting to share his news with her and hoping she’d finally share the real reason for her return from the Continent.

Chapter Five

The figure in the looking glass in Lady Charlotte’s chambers couldn’t be her own image. Olivia blinked and then trained her gaze on the lady fluttering about her. She was Lady Charlotte’s maid, yet the lady was fussing over her as if their roles were reversed.

“Relax, Miss O.” Lady Charlotte squeezed the tops of her shoulders.

Olivia was discovering that wanting to obey her new mistress’s orders and doing so were two entirely different matters. “Why do you insist on continuing this…” she waved her hand about in a circle to encompass the image looking back at her, “this charade? I’m your maid, not a member of the ton as you have somehow managed to convince Lady Guernsey and her son.”