The Duke Identity (Game of Dukes #1)(76)

“Tell him I’ll be right there.” Turning back to the group, Gabby said hurriedly, “I must go, but Emma and Polly, will you please come to call tomorrow afternoon? I should like to visit with you ever so much. And with you, too, Miss Smith, if you are free.”

Tessa blinked. Couldn’t believe the opportunity that had just presented itself.

When the other ladies murmured their assent, she added quickly, “I’m free.”

“Splendid.” Rummaging in her reticule, Gabby produced a rather crumpled card and gave it to Tessa. “Here is my address. Look forward to seeing you all!”

She rushed off, a trail of yellow feathers drifting in her wake.

“Is she quite all right, do you think?” Emma murmured.

“We’ll find out tomorrow,” Polly murmured back.

Tomorrow, Tessa would have the opportunity to investigate Garrity in his own lair…as long as Bennett was willing to cooperate with her plan. She looked for Bennett in the crowd, bursting at the seams to share the new developments. The evening could not have gone any better.

Then a sonorous voice announced a new arrival.

“Sir Aloysius De Witt and the Honorable Miss Celeste De Witt!”





27





“Harry…is that you?” a voice like trembling silver bells asked.

Bloody hell. For an instant, Harry was tempted to deny it and continue down the carpeted hallway outside the ballroom. When he’d seen the De Witts arrive, he’d felt a surge of fury. Just as quickly, he’d locked away the emotion. Made certain to stay out of sight as he monitored them.

Aloysius had quickly made the rounds, Celeste by his side. He’d exchanged niceties with a number of guests, including Garrity and a man Harry did not recognize but who had waltzed with Tessa. Aloysius also spoke at length with Ransom, who’d danced a set with Celeste.

Aloysius had departed a quarter hour ago, leaving his daughter with her chaperone. Harry had thought his presence had gone undetected. Apparently, he’d underestimated Celeste…for a second time.

He forced himself to turn around.

Celeste had always suited her name, and tonight was no exception. Her swan costume accentuated her angelic grace, the white, feather-trimmed frock perfectly draped over her tall, slender frame. Her pale blonde ringlets quivered; she stared at him with eyes that he’d once compared to the color of heaven.

When he looked at her now, however, it was through the eyes of a man not a lad. She was still beautiful, but he saw how fragile that beauty was. How it didn’t have the bones for endurance, the character that would enhance and deepen attractiveness over time.

When he removed his mask, shadows flitted through her eyes. Or maybe it was the candelabrum flickering on the side table.

“I thought it was you,” she whispered. “Were you going to leave without speaking to me?”

She must be joking.

Anger flared. Knowing there was no way to avoid the interaction, he calculated his options. Going to the nearest door, he looked inside. The music room was empty.

Wordlessly, he gestured for her to enter. Once they were both inside, he left the door open. If anyone happened upon them, he would play the part of a footman assisting a guest.

“What do you want?” he demanded curtly.

“I want to talk to you.” Her voice quivered. “To say…how sorry I am. For what I did.”

Did she really think he wanted her apology?

His jaw clenched. “It’s a bit late for that, don’t you think?”

“I know what I did was unforgiveable. That you must hate me.” Her eyes welled. “I didn’t want to tell those horrid lies, but Papa made me.”

Two discordant thoughts struck Harry simultaneously. One was that Tessa wouldn’t blame someone else for the choices she’d made. She wasn’t above untruths and trickery, but she usually had a good reason for it. Regardless, she took responsibility for her actions.

His other thought was that he had a chance now to try to uncover De Witt’s plans. Looking at Celeste’s pleading expression, he didn’t know if she was party to her father’s nefariousness; either way, he didn’t trust her. Yet it would behoove him to try to get some answers.

“Was it your papa’s idea for you to try to seduce me, to distract me while he went into the laboratory that night and stole my work?” he said evenly.

She licked her lips, her gaze darting then returning to his. “Yes…but I wanted to go to your room that night, Harry. You’re the only one who’s ever been truly good to me,” she said in a shaky voice. “The only one who listened and cared. The only one I’ve ever—”

“Was it his idea also for you to lie the next day? To destroy the only alibi I had?”

“I didn’t want to.” A single tear spilled over. “I’ve regretted my actions ever since.”

Not as much as I have.

He forced himself to play along. “If that is true—”

“It is. How I hated deceiving you.” She took a step closer, one hand held out beseechingly. “Despite what I did, my feelings for you were true. As true as the feelings you once professed having for me. I kept those poems you wrote, Harry, hid them from Papa.” Her gaze searched his. “I read them every night before I say my prayers.”