Masked Love (A Christmas Regency Novella) Read Online Free PDF Page A

nothing about it. I have never witnessed one.”
    “Would you like to?”
    Her heart raced, even though she knew better—this was not an invitation, merely a simple question. Which called for the simple truth. “Yes.”
    But they both knew she would never see one. Fox hunting and instruments and balls and fancy weddings were not in her future, only his. His and Lady Theodosia’s.

 
     
     
     

     
    Adrian could refrain from gazing upon her no longer. Despite the simple clothes that clearly marked her as a lady’s maid, her face was still angelic, still breathtaking. He hated himself for being drawn to her, yet his legs refused to move. He was not willing to leave her side.
    He would have to, and soon, he well knew, but he would delay that as long as possible.
    Isabelle’s hair looked much the same as yesterday, tumbling down her shoulders in long curls. His hand had brushed against a strand when they had made their way to the dance floor. It was just as soft as it looked. Uncovered too, unlike Lady Theodosia, who had worn a bonnet during their walk earlier.
    A sudden thought had him clenching his fists and looking away again. His father had several mistresses. He could do that to neither Isabelle nor Lady Theodosia.
    “Sing me another song.”
    He realized too late that it came out a demand, not a request.
    “Please,” he rushed to add.
    Isabelle shook her head as she stared straight ahead.
    “Do you often ignore the wishes of lords’?” he joked.
    The corner of her lip twitched. “Just you.” She adjusted her skirt and stood. “I really should be returning.”
    Adrian touched her arm. “A moment more, please.” He was pleading.
    She shook her head again. “Good day, my lord.” Her legs carried her away, and he sat there, watching her, enraged with himself that he had allowed her to leave, livid with himself that he had begged her to stay.
    Lady Theodosia deserved a better man than him.
    A hand clapped on his shoulder, and he almost jumped.
    “I see you found our Yule log,” Lord Haywood said. “We’ll be lighting it soon enough.”
    He should have realized they were sitting on the Yule log. Why else would a log be cut down now? Supposedly being the first to sit upon the log before it went into the fireplace granted good luck. Isabelle and himself needed far more than merely luck.
    “Care to have a drink with me?” his future bride’s father asked.
    Adrian nodded, relief filling him that the lord had not witnessed his encounter with Isabelle. The two men walked back to the house. The sound of ladies talking and laughing floated from down the hall.
    “My daughter has a few of her friends over for luncheon. I thought we could take some time to talk.”
    “Of course.”
    Lord Haywood led Adrian into a study and poured two drinks. Adrian drank his in two gulps. Without batting an eye, Lord Haywood refilled it, then sat in a high-backed chair, and gestured for Adrian to do likewise.
    “How is your father doing?”
    “Quite good. He gives his regret that he could not come, as does my mother, but they had a prior engagement they could not break off.” He rubbed his free hand on his tight pants. His parents couldn’t come because his mother was quite ill. They did not want the Haywoods to know that detail for fear her poor health would cast a poor light on him. Poor health was a sign of weakness, and his parents weren’t about to do anything that might cause the wedding to be put off.
    “Your father and I grew up together, you know.” Lord Haywood swayed his cup, and the amber liquid inside swirled around. “We promised each other we would have our children married, and now that time has come. Will your parents be able to come for the wedding, do you think?”
    “I hope so.” Adrian swallowed hard. He had not wanted to leave his mother’s side. The physician had said some promising words, but his mother had always been frail. If anything should happen to her while he was here …
    “Now then,