Page 1 of Unmasking the Earl

Chapter One

Oxfordshire, England

May 1821

“To love and not be loved in return is the worst torment of all.”

Cassandra Blythe turned and looked into the sympathetic eyes of her cousin, Rebecca.

“Well, yes, indeed,” Cassie replied, plying her fan and trying to appear unconcerned as she gazed around the crowded ballroom. “But don’t worry about me. My dance card is quite full. See? I have no reason to repine.”

Becca examined the small piece of ivory dangling from Cassie’s wrist. “How odd,” she said. “I see Julian’s name down for dances which have already happened, but I don’t recall seeing the two of you together.”

Cassie sighed and ignored the fist of pain that struck at her heart. “True. Mr. Carnforth has been distracted tonight. He’s confused me with Lady Lucy Dyer twice. Look here,” she said, jabbing a finger at the finely penciled letters. “He marked himself down for the cotillion and the quadrille with me, but ended up dancing with her on both occasions.”

Becca gave a tinkling laugh. “I can’t imagine how! Our hosts have bought up every chandelier and candelabrum in Wessex and installed them in their ballroom. I declare I can see a good deal more than I wish to! Julian should have had no difficulty recognizing you, despite the crush.”

Cassie looked down at the clump of violets wilting at her breast. She felt like wilting, too, but said brightly, “Anyway, I don’t see why you should single out Julian for mention. There are plenty of extremely eligible gentlemen here.”

“Ah, but only one who has made you stammer in his presence since you were thirteen,” said Becca sagely.

“Oh, Becca, don’t tease. I’m too hot and weary to dispute with you. In fact, I think I’ll go upstairs and try to cool down a little. Had you better check on Papa? I don’t want him getting overtired.”

“I have been given my congé,” her cousin said cheerfully, and disappeared back into the throng.

Casting a dark look in the direction of Mr. Julian Carnforth, Cassie swept through the crowd of dancers, head held high, and made her way up the grand staircase of Highmore House and into the ladies’ powdering room.

It was a relief to find it unoccupied. She swiftly undid the catch on the shutters, pulled them back, lifted the sash window, and leaned out, desperate for the touch of cooler air on her face.

Oh, Julian. What a disappointment! She’d done her best to look beautiful tonight for their old family friend. She’d pushed up her bosom, pinched her cheeks, curled her hair to within an inch of its life, and practiced fluttering her eyelashes in front of a mirror—all to no avail. He just couldn’t see past the fact that they were childhood friends. Recently, he’d even remarked that she was like a sister to him.

A sister!

The man she’d loved for years thought of her as no more than that. The pain she experienced whenever she heard him use that word cut like a blade.

Her vision blurred as she gazed out across the Duke and Duchess of Paxton’s vast gardens and grounds. She gave a little hiccup of distress, then blinked rapidly as a dark shape came into view on the gravel below the window.

It would have been sensible to withdraw her head immediately and close the shutters, rather than submit herself to the impertinent gaze of the man looking up at her. But good sense hardly seemed important compared to a broken heart. She stiffened, tilted her chin, and glared right back.

When their eyes locked and held, an involuntary shiver shot up her spine. Not a gentleman. This was a servant, simply clad, with shadowed eyes and a frowning brow.

That any such fellow should appraise her so brazenly was disgraceful. She’d a good mind to find out who his master or mistress was and complain. She could, of course, just call down and admonish him, but that would be lowering herself to his level. Besides which, he looked a rough and powerful man, the sort who could very easily scale the nearest drainpipe, throw her over his shoulder, and make off with her into the night if the fancy took him.

The image of him doing just that made her flush and wish her corset were less tight.

By Juno! It must be hotter than she thought. She couldn’t possibly be affected by the insolent appraisal of a manservant. Could she? Her frustration over Julian was getting the better of her. If only he would throw her over his shoulder and make off with her…

Suddenly, a giggling couple burst forth from the house and scurried down the steps to the gravel drive. Arm in arm, they set off, swaying slightly, along a double line of flickering flambeaux which led toward the formal gardens.

Whatever spell had held the handsome servant transfixed was broken. He was already striding off.

Releasing a pent-up breath, Cassie was about to turn away when something struck her about the laughing couple. She looked again. Sweet Venus. Surely that was Julian’s slender figure, his particular way of walking, that way he had of tilting his head to listen to one as if one were the only person in the room?

Good Lord. Julian Carnforth was sneaking away from the ball with Lady Lucy Dyer.

The air crashed out of Cassie’s lungs, then returned with a great gush…which brought with it a blast of righteous fury.

How dare that woman toy with Julian!