gentlemen were complaining as
they chased her about the room with loud hunting
cries.
Nan laughed. ‘That is Miss Chudleigh making a
fool of herself as usual. I declare her gowns get
younger as she grows older! No wonder Lord Fre-
mantle looks to find himself a new mistress.’
Rebecca gave her a sharp look, for Nan’s words had
penetrated her awed reaction to the spectacle of the
masque. ‘Lord Fremantle? Is he here tonight?’
Nan shrugged airily. ‘Lud, who knows? We are all
incognito. Is it not the most delicious fun?’
100
The Rake’s Mistress
Rebecca was beginning to wonder. Nan, with her
flimsy blue silk and lace dress, her outrageous peacock
feathers in her hair, and her blue peacock mask, was
already attracting plenty of male attention. No matter
what she had said earlier, she did not seem at all in-
clined to find Lord Bosham in the throng and was
giving her hand to a gentleman in harlequin’s costume,
who seemed intent on carrying her off. Rebecca felt a
flutter of panic. She had not expected this and sud-
denly it seemed an alien world, dangerous and raffish,
and she an innocent thrown to the lions.
‘May I have the pleasure of this dance, madam?’ A
gentleman was bowing before her and, although he
was costumed and masked, Rebecca had an absolute
conviction that it was Lord Fremantle. He took her
hand and her skin crawled. Behind the mask his eyes
were a dead fish stare and his face a pasty white. Re-
becca swallowed the repulsion in her throat.
‘Thank you, sir, but I do not dance.’
The gentleman pressed a little closer. She could feel
his hot breath on her neck. ‘Indeed?’ His flat, marble
gaze appraised her from behind the mask, dropping to
the neckline of her dress in insulting perusal. ‘If you
do not dance, what do you do?’
‘What the lady means is that she is not at liberty to
dance with you, sir, because she is promised to me,’
a smooth voice interposed from behind them.
Both Rebecca and Fremantle spun around.
Rebecca’s heart contracted. There was a gentleman
standing directly before her. He was wearing a black
domino and a plain black mask behind which his eyes
glittered as he watched her. There was something both
Nicola Cornick
101
relaxed and dangerous in his stance, as though he was
quite prepared for Fremantle to oppose him and knew
precisely what to do if he did. Despite the disguise,
Rebecca knew for certain that it was Lord Lucas Kes-
trel.
He stepped a little closer and she could tell from
his eyes that he was smiling behind the mask. Had he
recognised her? Rebecca felt a moment’s alarm.
He was offering her his arm. ‘Come, my sweeting.
I am sorry to have left you alone for so long.’
Rebecca was torn. She wanted to escape Fremantle
but she did not want to step into Lucas Kestrel’s arms.
In the heated atmosphere of the masque, that would
be very perilous. Fremantle, sensing her reluctance,
placed one fleshy hand on her arm.
‘I cannot see that the lady is promised to you, sir,
when there is no formality at such an event as this.’
‘If there is no formality,’ the black domino said,
gently mocking, ‘then you cannot object to me spir-
iting the lady away, sir.’
Fremantle bridled. ‘I think the lady should choose
for herself.’
‘By all means,’ the black domino agreed smoothly.
Rebecca made her choice. In truth, there was no real
alternative, for she would accept Lucas Kestrel over
Alexander Fremantle any day. The difficulty would be
in preserving her disguise against Lucas and in getting
away from him as swiftly as possible before he un-
masked her. She felt quite hot and faint at the thought.
She dropped Lord Fremantle a slight curtsy. ‘Ex-
cuse me, sir.’
Fremantle stiffened, then bowed abruptly. ‘Very
102
The Rake’s Mistress
well.’ He turned back to Rebecca. ‘A dance is a paltry
matter, but I demand to be first in all else.’ He walked
away.
Rebecca released
they chased her about the room with loud hunting
cries.
Nan laughed. ‘That is Miss Chudleigh making a
fool of herself as usual. I declare her gowns get
younger as she grows older! No wonder Lord Fre-
mantle looks to find himself a new mistress.’
Rebecca gave her a sharp look, for Nan’s words had
penetrated her awed reaction to the spectacle of the
masque. ‘Lord Fremantle? Is he here tonight?’
Nan shrugged airily. ‘Lud, who knows? We are all
incognito. Is it not the most delicious fun?’
100
The Rake’s Mistress
Rebecca was beginning to wonder. Nan, with her
flimsy blue silk and lace dress, her outrageous peacock
feathers in her hair, and her blue peacock mask, was
already attracting plenty of male attention. No matter
what she had said earlier, she did not seem at all in-
clined to find Lord Bosham in the throng and was
giving her hand to a gentleman in harlequin’s costume,
who seemed intent on carrying her off. Rebecca felt a
flutter of panic. She had not expected this and sud-
denly it seemed an alien world, dangerous and raffish,
and she an innocent thrown to the lions.
‘May I have the pleasure of this dance, madam?’ A
gentleman was bowing before her and, although he
was costumed and masked, Rebecca had an absolute
conviction that it was Lord Fremantle. He took her
hand and her skin crawled. Behind the mask his eyes
were a dead fish stare and his face a pasty white. Re-
becca swallowed the repulsion in her throat.
‘Thank you, sir, but I do not dance.’
The gentleman pressed a little closer. She could feel
his hot breath on her neck. ‘Indeed?’ His flat, marble
gaze appraised her from behind the mask, dropping to
the neckline of her dress in insulting perusal. ‘If you
do not dance, what do you do?’
‘What the lady means is that she is not at liberty to
dance with you, sir, because she is promised to me,’
a smooth voice interposed from behind them.
Both Rebecca and Fremantle spun around.
Rebecca’s heart contracted. There was a gentleman
standing directly before her. He was wearing a black
domino and a plain black mask behind which his eyes
glittered as he watched her. There was something both
Nicola Cornick
101
relaxed and dangerous in his stance, as though he was
quite prepared for Fremantle to oppose him and knew
precisely what to do if he did. Despite the disguise,
Rebecca knew for certain that it was Lord Lucas Kes-
trel.
He stepped a little closer and she could tell from
his eyes that he was smiling behind the mask. Had he
recognised her? Rebecca felt a moment’s alarm.
He was offering her his arm. ‘Come, my sweeting.
I am sorry to have left you alone for so long.’
Rebecca was torn. She wanted to escape Fremantle
but she did not want to step into Lucas Kestrel’s arms.
In the heated atmosphere of the masque, that would
be very perilous. Fremantle, sensing her reluctance,
placed one fleshy hand on her arm.
‘I cannot see that the lady is promised to you, sir,
when there is no formality at such an event as this.’
‘If there is no formality,’ the black domino said,
gently mocking, ‘then you cannot object to me spir-
iting the lady away, sir.’
Fremantle bridled. ‘I think the lady should choose
for herself.’
‘By all means,’ the black domino agreed smoothly.
Rebecca made her choice. In truth, there was no real
alternative, for she would accept Lucas Kestrel over
Alexander Fremantle any day. The difficulty would be
in preserving her disguise against Lucas and in getting
away from him as swiftly as possible before he un-
masked her. She felt quite hot and faint at the thought.
She dropped Lord Fremantle a slight curtsy. ‘Ex-
cuse me, sir.’
Fremantle stiffened, then bowed abruptly. ‘Very
102
The Rake’s Mistress
well.’ He turned back to Rebecca. ‘A dance is a paltry
matter, but I demand to be first in all else.’ He walked
away.
Rebecca released
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