Oh, it was him. “Lord Westbridgeson, how did you recognize me?”
“I’ve been aware of you for some time, and a mask could never hide your Talbot beauty.”
He’d been aware of her for some time? Did that mean he’d been watching her? Louisa touched the mask Lady Havendishprovided. She didn’t care for this man approaching her so boldly, especially given who desired to introduce him.
She resisted the urge to shoot a glance at Mortimer. “I am flattered, my lord.” Repulsed, more like, but she swallowed it down with a smile.
He glanced at the octopus. “Remarkable creature, is it not?”
Louisa’s fists clenched before she forced them to relax. “Rather pitiful, I believe.”
“You do not enjoy the sight?”
Her gaze moved from Lord Westbridgeson to the tank again, but the figure on the other side had already disappeared.
Wait a second!
Had he been dressed in the Havendishlivery? Ah, well, she would get a better look later. For now, she had to rid herself of this eager lord, who carried himself with the quiet assurance of a man who had never doubted his place in the world. A man who didn’t doubt his inevitable introduction to her. Glancing around to avoid looking directly at the man, she could see her father and Camilla hadn’t arrived yet. In fact, she hadn’t once caught sight of her father since she’d arrived, as the men had returned from their hunting while she’d been resting. That might be a good thing. She didn’t know how well her composure would hold up if she did meet him here.
She suddenly wanted to slip away as soon as possible.
“Lady Louisa?”
She blinked at the octopus. “If you must know, I can’t say that it’s all that appealing. I think it’s a rather cruel sight.”
“Because the animal is caged?”
“Because it’s on display while caged, almost taunting the poor creature that its fate is no longer his own.” Her gaze returned to Lord Westbridgeson. “A beautiful creature. A lonely fate.”
“His fate was never his own to begin with, my lady.”
The words chilled her blood, and something unpleasant trickled down her spine. The words seemed almost to possess a meaning that stretched beyond the octopus. Fortunately, she, Louisa Talbot, was not an octopus.
“Speaking of which, howdidyou become acquainted with my stepmother?”
The question seemed to startle him. “I was introduced by Lady Havendish.”
“I see.” She studied him for a moment. “Are you and Lady Havendish close?” She remembered the way Lady Havendish’s eyes had glinted when she’d spoken of this man. They should be more than close if that was any indication.
“We have been friends for a while. Same with her husband.”
“I see.” Louisa doubted he was on the same terms with Lord Havendish as with Lady Havendish. Call her mad, but it was just a feeling she got—all was not what it seemed. Her entire body bellowed for her to run.
The orchestra struck up the chords of the next tune, and Lord Westbridgeson extended his hand. “May I have this dance?”
Dancing all around the octopus tank? Their hosts sure knew how to put on an act for the guests. Refusal was not an option, for he would surely report back to Camilla or their host. She didn’t wish to unnecessarily raise any suspicions. She’d dance and then she would slip away.
She placed her hand in his. “Of course,” she said, allowing him to lead her onto the dance floor.
Louisa usually enjoyed dancing, but this dance, she found herself rather distracted. Her gaze couldn’t help but sweep across the crowd, looking for a tall servant figure with a familiar masked face, but with no luck. Where had Mortimer gone? Had he left? Was he still watching? She despised the flicker of disappointment at the thought that he might not be.
The moment the dance concluded, she excused herself before Lord Westbridgeson could find any other excuse to stay by her side or, God forbid, her father and stepmother arrived and she would have to engage in further pleasantries.
Now should be the perfect time.
She quickly made her way across the room, sweeping one last glance over the room and the poor octopus, before slipping away. No one would be very likely to suspect anything at this point or question her leaving. This was the fortunate thing about country house parties where the guests resided on the same premises as the party. She also couldn’t truly explain the sudden urgency that drove her to act fast if she were pressed.
Lady Havendish’s chamber was in the west wing. She’d already asked the maid who had helped her dress all sorts of things that had slowly revealed the location.
