The Rake's Mistress by Nicola Cornick Page A

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. Rebecca 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 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 Kestrel.
    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 spiriting 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 unmasked her. She felt quite hot and faint at the thought.
    She dropped Lord Fremantle a slight curtsy. ‘Excuse me, sir.’
    Fremantle stiffened, then bowed abruptly. ‘Very 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 her breath sharply and turned to the black domino, who was still waiting, his head tilted quizzically. ‘Thank you, my lord,’ she said.
    He took a step closer to her. ‘My lord?’ he questioned softly.
    Rebecca smiled slightly. ‘If I am a lady, sir, then surely you must be a lord.’
    The black domino laughed. ‘Do you imply that you are playing a part, madam?’
    ‘We are all doing that tonight, sir.’
    ‘So we are,’ the black domino murmured. His breath stirred the ribbons that held her mask in place and Rebecca shivered. She yielded slightly as he placed his arm about her waist and drew her towards the ballroom. It was an intimacy, but one that did not seem out of place at a masque where the behaviour was already approaching, or even exceeding, the licentious. In fact, it felt more protective than dangerous, as though he had staked a claim and no other would be permitted to approach her.
    ‘So which part do you play tonight, madam?’ he asked. He looked across at Nan Astley, laughing behind her peacock mask as a gentleman whispered secrets in her ear. ‘You are not the peacock or the shepherdess or the pirate queen…’
    The pirate queen . Rebecca almost laughed aloud. The decadence of the masque was having a curious effect on her, as though she felt freed from the normal constraints she laid on her own behaviour. She felt reckless, lighter than air.
    She met the shadowed gaze behind the