Love Wears a Mask

Love Wears a Mask

by Olga 'Allyann' Gridin


The carriage rattled on the paved road, making the coach and his master jump every now and then. The coach gritted his teeth expecting angry grumbling from his master – who was in the carriage – knowing his master's moody temper; yet the grumbling never came. Apparently the duke was either too tired to be angry at the coach for the latter's lack of smooth driving skills or too drunk. In truth, the duke was merely deep in thought. Grim thoughts were occupying the duke's mind tonight.
His Grace, the Duke of Thornton, was heading to a masquerade ball – the most important event at the time in London – yet his thoughts were focused on tomorrow. Tonight he was going to enjoy himself as much as he could. The event was the highlight of the year for the highest titles at the time, and only the loftiest titles were invited – and Jordan Norrington, the Duke of Thornton, was one of them. Besides being the highlight of the year in London, the masquerade ball was also a mass of false identities and surprising events. At precisely midnight all the guests would take off their masks and all the misunderstandings would be cleared. Some of the most important matches were started at Lady Holmes' ball one way or another. Lady Holmes had a habit of taking credit for some of the most important matches, which started during her masquerades one way or another.
Jordan was in no hurry. Luckily, this was his last night in London for the following few months. Tomorrow he would be traveling to his country house and a week later he would be sailing to America on his fancy ship, which he named "The Virgin Sailor". It would be wonderful to feel fresh air on his face again.
According to Jordan Robert Thornton, arranged marriage meant slavery in the very meaning. He would have liked to get married someday, but he had his own terms: very unlike the fashion in London (marriages were merely a financial struggle up the ladder of popularity and lofty titles), he wanted to get married for love. He didn't care whether his heart chose a pauper; the heart doesn't see the difference between the rich and the poor. He was the only heir of Thornton Hall – an amazing snow-white building that his great ancestors had built many centuries ago – and yet he was a great disappointment. He has caused great tension and anxiety when he announced his family that he had no intention whatsoever to take Lucy Stone as a wife, merely since his proud parents had arranged this marriage contract without asking for his, Jordan's, opinion of the matter. All his life he has been avoiding arranged marriages as much as he could, and now that it was closer than ever he felt trapped. But he was going to flee to America as soon as one week from now. His happiness depended on this runaway journey.
This year Lady Holmes outclassed her usual style. This year the ball was fancier than ever, and it was evident that the woman had spent an entire fortune to fix the event. She took great pride in being the best hostess in London and its surroundings. The Holmes Mansion was exploding with music, laughter and conversation, and the place was crowded to no end, but all Jordan could see was his supposed-to-be bride the last time he'd seen her. Miss Lucy Stone had golden hair and a classic aristocratic profile. Like many other daughters, she was raised to marry a rich man with a high title and a good incoming. The duke didn't need a woman like that, no matter how beautiful she was.
The duke, concealed under Satan's mask and a dark aura about him, was enjoying the fact that nobody knew his true identity. He passed one room after the other until he reached the grand ballroom. In the ballroom there was iron, ornamented gates, which led to Lady Holmes' famous garden. It was said that the woman was spending fortune on maintaining the garden beautiful and neat. Jordan decided to take a quick look inside.
At that moment a group of men approached him. They were in an excellent mood. One of them turned to the duke. "Good evening, stranger. Would you be interested in playing a little game?"
"If it includes an opportunity to get rid of you, gladly," Jordan said sarcastically.
As the brandy was still coursing heavily through their bloodstream, the merry group was not offended. On the contrary, they burst out laughing. "Well, if you change your mind, you won't regret it."
Another one from the group added, turning to Jordan, "I think I know you. Have we met?"
"In that case," the latter said, "Let's make it interesting, shall we? I bet on one hundred pounds that you have no idea who I am. If I am mistaken – which I am certain I'm not – I will owe you the money."
The young man laughed and offered his hand. "It sounds very interesting. I'm in."
"And," another one put in, "Two hundred from me. The same deal." They shook hands. "How should we call you?"
"The renegade," Jordan replied.
"I'm Leppard, and this is Doctor Death."
And they parted.
Jordan was only too happy to leave the noisy ballroom to the quiet garden. A few couples were flirting there in the solitary spots. Careful not to disturb them, he moved farther into the garden. It was very warm and quiet inside – and Jordan had the impression that Lady Holmes was trying to encourage lovers into a trap. He smirked. Lady Holmes has always been an icon of innocence and goodwill, but the duke has always suspected that she was as canny as a fox. Personally he has never trusted her.
At that moment the duke heard a familiar shrill woman's voice nearby. Lady Holmes! He walked faster, and he would have stalked on – When something caught his eye.
She was sitting alone, deep in thought. She was unaware of the fact that she had just attracted the attention of the Duke of Thornton. She didn't know she looked like a gold-haired angel at the moment.
Pretending to be only slightly interested, Jordan approached the beautiful stranger. "Excuse me, miss; may I sit with you?"
She raised her eyes, surprised. She reproached herself for being too inattentive when she was thinking about her own things. She looked around and saw that there was plenty of spare room, but couldn't bring herself to tell him off. She forced a polite smile. "Of course, my lord."
As they both didn’t know what to say to each other there was an uneasy pause.
“Why aren’t you –” both started at the same time. They stared.
Jordan said, “I apologize. Please, continue.”
“Why aren’t you at the ball, my lord?” she said quite suspiciously.
“Why aren’t you?”
“I believe I asked first.”
“Yes, you did.” He chuckled. He added, “I’m not in the mood for celebration at the moment.”
“Neither am I,” she agreed.
“If you allow me to give you a piece of advice – there is a group out there that is looking for victims to play ‘Guess who is under the mask’. You might want to avoid them.”
“Indeed? I will; thank you.”
He was all tense by now. The little smile that was playing on her lips was like a drug, like a sip of good, aged brandy.
“Milord?”
He didn’t seem to hear her.
“Milord?” she repeated a little louder this time.
Realizing that he had just been staring at her for the past minute, the duke looked away. What the hell was he doing?! He was acting like a schoolboy! He was three and thirty already. The reigning Duke of Thornton Hall is ought to behave himself according to the etiquette. And in addition, he completely forgot that he was planning on fleeing the very next day. He had never felt so embarrassed in his entire life. He muttered a sincere apology, careful not to look at her.
The beautiful stranger felt her companion’s embarrassment. She was flattered, but her expression remained blank. ‘I wish my fiancée was more like him,’ she thought to herself.
At that moment the music in the ballroom stopped playing. They heard Lady Holmes’ excited shrill voice. “My dearest guests, it’s been a wonderful evening, but it’s not over yet. We are approaching midnight.” An overall indistinct murmur followed this announcement. “I have been watching you all attentively tonight. I have heard things. And so far it has been the most exciting of all my masquerades. As the clock is ticking I will try and guess some of you.” A thunder of laughter followed. It was already a custom that Lady Holmes liked to expose her victims.
Jordan, who had lost track of time, needed to get out there now. He turned to his companion. “I’ve had a wonderful evening, but I’m in a hurry. It’s been a pleasure.” He kissed her gloved hand and was about to leave, when she stopped him with a movement of her hand.
“Are you running away?”
Jordan felt like a thief, who had just been caught with his pants down. He said quietly, through gritted teeth, “As much as it sounds disgraceful – yes.”
“Can I come, too? I already have fallen in Lady Holmes’ trap once. I don’t want to fall in it again.”
He looked at her as if he was seeing her for the first time. The politeness and secretiveness gone, he saw he for a tiny piece of who she really was. That was the worst part of the education at the time: until you were married for real, you couldn’t really know whom you were marrying because of the etiquette’s tough rules. And in truth, he liked what he saw in her.
He thought for a moment and said, “Do you promise to keep in secret what you will see?”
“What do you mean, my lord?”
“There is a secret passage out of here. But I cannot let you go blabbing about it. It’s supposed to be a secret.”
“My lips are sealed. I swear. I will tell nobody.”
Jordan believed her. “Well then, follow me.”
Lady Holmes’ voice reached them from the nearest ballroom. “…all along and my friend here with the purple bowler hat is marquis of Rockfeller Hall.” There was a bang of loud laughter and then the woman’s voice said, “And I was right. And I believe I saw Lord Norrington flirting with Miss Lovegood. Miss, you with the blue velvet dress; will you be so kind as to take off your mask?” There was another roar of laughter as the lady was right again. “And the gentleman on your right is Lord Norrington, aren’t you, milord?” She was, of course, right.
Meanwhile, Jordan raised a wall of vine. Beneath it there was a wooden door. ‘Lucky it is dark,’ he thought. He moved the handle as quietly as he could and they were in, careful to hide the door under the vine again. “Looks like Lady Holmes enjoys ruining reputations,” he said.
“I know. I fell victim to her tricks once. She passed a rumor that I was engaged to a – a gentleman with slightly dirty reputation. It is still around, I’m afraid.”
“She doesn’t waste time.”
“You bet she doesn’t.” She added hesitantly, “How do you know about this tunnel?”
Jordan was battling with himself – to tell or not to tell? Since they weren’t going to know each other’s identities, he decided to share the secret. “Caleb Holmes, Lady Holmes’ son, is one of my best friends.”
“I see you are popular.”
They found themselves wishing the tunnel would never end. The five minutes that took them to reach the end of the narrow passage passed too fast. When they emerged from the tunnel a young man was waiting for them. The latter said, “I’m glad you could make it.”
“I always do,” Jordan snapped.
“Who is your woman? By the way, she is very pretty.” Suddenly he looked angrily at Jordan. “She won’t blab about our secret, will she?”
“No; I won’t,” she said seriously.
“She swore,” Jordan said. “She’s different. If my fiancée was like her I wouldn’t mind getting married, honestly.”
Lady Holmes’ voice was getting closer. Caleb Holmes said urgently, “Oh-oh, she’s coming. You’d better go.”
Jordan turned to the young woman. “Do you have a ride home?”
“Yes, of course.”
“Jordan, she’s around the corner,” Caleb said. He meant his mother, Lady Holmes.
The young woman was amazed and surprised. “What is your name again?” she asked the Satan.
“Jordan,” he said reluctantly.
“The Duke of Thornton Hall?”
There was something alarming in her expression.
“Wow, you’re good!” Caleb said. “I’m Caleb Holmes.” He offered his hand. When she merely continued staring at the duke, ignoring him, Caleb, he dropped it.
She needed to be certain. She pulled off his mask. The duke was handsome and tall and had a powerful aura about him – the three qualities, which attracted women to him like fireflies to light. However, she wasn’t affected.
“I’m afraid it is true,” Jordan said.
“It can’t be you,” she claimed. “Just can’t. What about all the rumors? You are supposed to be childish and irresponsible and a womanizer. I haven’t seen any of these qualities. It must be a mistake.”
“The rumors…Lady Holmes spread them…after seeing me refuse to Monica Fletcher’s father’s proposal to marry his daughter. That woman is still spreading it around? She’s a nightmare.”
The blonde continued staring at him. She took off her mask abruptly.
Jordan couldn’t believe his eyes. “Lucy Stone?”
“I’m afraid so. I’m your fiancée.”
“And to think I wanted to get rid of you.”
“So did I.”
Caleb burst out laughing. “Wow, you really are alike. You are soul mates.”
“Don’t push it,” Jordan snapped. He was staring at Lucy, not believing how he could think she was not his type. She was everything he has ever wanted.
“So what about the wedding?” Caleb inquired.
“I think it will work out just fine.” He turned to Lucy. “I’m sorry; I shouldn’t have judged you before I met you. I didn’t want to marry a complete stranger.”
“I was wrong, too. I was relying on the rumors that were running about you.”
“I think if we get to know each other better, we will find more in common. Would you mind going for a ride with me tomorrow?”
Lucy granted him a smile. He was her fiancé; they were going to get married. This marriage is going to be built on love and caring. They would build a love that would last forever, and nothing will break it. She knew it in her heart. If she were able to read her fiancé’s mind right now, she’d see that he was having exactly the same thoughts.

- The End -