A Masked Deception by Mary Balogh

seemed to Margaret. The two chattered gaily for the duration of the drive, leaving Margaret to her thoughts. She felt happily convinced that there was a very real attraction between her sister and her husband’s brother.
    Dinner that evening was a quiet affair. Neither Brampton nor Margaret seemed inclined to make conversation, and Charlotte, for once, seemed wrapped up in thought. Brampton was preoccupied with his guilt and his anticipation of seeing his angel again. Margaret was excited and sick with anxiety.
    “I shall be leaving presently, my dear,” Brampton announced across the table to his wife. “I have an engagement and shall probably be late.”
    Margaret smiled placidly. “That is all right, Richard,” she said. “Charlotte and I have planned a quiet evening.”
    “What?” he said, eyebrows raised. “Do you have no invitations for tonight?”
    “Yes, two,” she replied calmly. “Lady Emberly is having a card party and the Prices a musical soiree. But we have declined both.”
    “I hope that Charlotte is not becoming bored with the Season already,” he said, smiling teasingly at her.
    “Oh, no, indeed, my lord,” she cried, “but I—I have the headache.” Then she bit her lip, remembering that that had been Meg’s excuse the week before.
    “I am sorry to hear it,” Brampton said. “Might I suggest an early night?”
    “Yes, my lord, it is exactly what I intended,” said Charlotte meekly, eyes on her plate. “And Meg has kindly offered to stay at home to bear me company.” Charlotte was not a convincing actress, but Brampton’s mind was only half on the conversation. He accepted her explanations without suspicion.
    One hour later, Brampton having departed for his “engagement,” Margaret was in her room, yet again being dressed in the silver gown and mask, her hair piled loosely beneath the powdered wig. Both Kitty and Charlotte were present and helping, both as nervous and excited as Margaret herself.
    Kitty applied the lip rouge, Margaret slipped her feet into the wine-colored slippers, took the matching fan from Charlotte, and was ready to leave. This time Kitty smuggled her down the back stairs and out through the servants’ entrance, so that she would not be observed by the butler and footmen.
    Margaret ran lightly across to the stables, where Jem was waiting, the plain carriage ready for her.
    “Jem,” she said as he helped her inside the carriage and lifted the steps, “please follow me wherever I go tonight. I do not wish to be caught without a conveyance.”
    Jem could not quite understand why her ladyship needed to arrange a secret meeting with her own husband and why she must return separately from him, but it was not his job to question the Quality, certainly not his master and mistress.
    “You need have no fears, your ladyship,” he assured her before closing the door. “I shall see that you come safely home.”
    “Thank you, Jem.” She favored him with one of her rare smiles, which won for her his even deeper devotion.
    Vauxhall looked more familiar on this occasion, though Margaret felt even more nervous than before. That last time, if Richard had recognized her, she felt that she could somehow have talked her way out of an awkward situation. It could all have been explained as a joke. She could have pretended a wager with Charlotte that he would not recognize her. But this time, things had gone too far. Richard would really feel he had been made a fool of if he discovered the truth now.
    She saw him almost immediately, arms crossed on his chest, leaning against a tree beside the path where she had first caught his attention the week before. She shivered with fear for a moment; he looked very tall and almost menacing, with his black domino drawn closely around him and a black mask that covered more of his face than last week’s had a done. He obviously did not want to be recognized. Then he pushed himself away from the tree and stood straight. He had seen