'Easy reading is damn hard writing.'
  ~Nathaniel Hawthorne

Love Unmasked
This was my first entry into the RWA Little Gems short story competition. I was thrilled with a placing of 16th from 87. Enjoy!

English Countryside, 1850

‘I won’t do it!’ Sarah Brumsfield followed her statement with an angry stomp of her dainty slippered foot. It was either that or unleash the tears threatening to spill down her cheeks.

Her father, Viscount Wentworth, looked pained at her response. ‘Now Sarah, once you meet the young man I’m sure you will be more amenable to the marriage.’

Her distress was palpable. ‘How could you do this? I’m only half way through my first season.’ The pooling tears broke free.

‘Now Sarah, that’s the point of the season, to show your eligibility. I wouldn’t do anything that wasn’t in your best interests.’

Spite ruled her tongue. ‘You mean your best interests.’ Instantly she felt contrite. She knew he loved her dearly. But she also knew he wanted to improve the farming practices of his estate with the help of powerful connections.

Her mother glared at her. ‘Sarah, apologise to your father this instant.’

She looked from her father to her mother, pleading with them. ‘Why won’t you tell me his name?’

‘He requested to remain anonymous until the details of the marriage contract could be finalised.’

‘You know I had my cap set for the Earl of Marlbourne.’

‘He’s barely shown an interest darling. You only had one dance together at the Heartly affair.’

During the dance she’d smiled and engaged him in witty conversation, hoping to gain his interest. She’d looked for him at every ball since but the Earl had been mysteriously absent in society, but she knew she’d see him tonight.

‘We can’t always have what we desire, my dear. He’s to be a Duke and far beyond our reaches. We were lucky to be invited to the Masquerade ball at his father’s estate today. Now come, dry your eyes. Let’s join the festivities. You’ll see more sense of it when you’ve become acquainted with the idea.’ Her father scooped her ornate golden mask off the floor where she had thrown it and extended it to her. Snatching it from his hands she stared at the sparkling diamond in the centre of the forehead before roughly putting it back on.

‘If I can’t make my own match I’ll never marry!’ She was being petulant and knew it. As her mother stepped forward to comfort her she sidestepped her and ran towards the open balcony doors. She needed to be by herself.

‘Sarah, come back this instant!’

Ignoring her father she flew down the flagstone steps and out into the beautifully manicured gardens, not slowing until she had reached the edge of a fruit grove.

She breathed deeply to catch her breath. The scenery surrounding her was glorious but she didn’t stop to marvel in its beauty. Cutting a path through the trees she weaved her way past the outstretched branches careful not to snag her new ball gown. She broke through the foliage and stopped dead in her tracks, gasping.

Her problems were momentarily forgotten as she stared in awe at an enormous hedgerow maze basking in the glow of late afternoon in the field below.

She’d heard about the Duke of Astley’s maze but hadn’t in her wildest dreams thought she’d ever witness it. From her vantage point she could see it wasn’t a conventional maze but multiple paths twisting and turning upon themselves, criss-crossed with small footbridges leading into the centre, where a large fountain was in action. This was what she needed, a quiet place to think.

She tried to memorise the path to the centre before walking down the slope and tentatively stepping into the giant hedgerow.

Wanting to clear her head she closed her eyes and moved forward, running her hand along the green wall for guidance, losing herself in the stillness. The only sounds were her own footsteps upon the gravel and the trill of a nearby blue tit. The country air was so clean compared to London and she inhaled deeply.

Acrid cheroot smoke filled her nostrils.

Her eyes flew open and she stopped dead, listening intently for the owner. She hadn’t seen a sole when she entered. When she couldn’t discern any human noises she risked exposing herself.

‘Who’s there?’ Trepidation quickened her heartbeat as she waited for an answer.

When no answer was forth coming she tried again. ‘I can smell your cheroot.’

‘Ah, you have caught me madam.’ A mesmerising baritone responded.

She whirled around. He was close but when she gazed around there was no one to be seen. ‘Where are you, Sir?’

A humourous note tinged his reply. ‘I believe I am occupying a stone bench in the next hedgerow.’

Tension left her as she realised he posed no threat. ‘And whom am I addressing?’

‘So formal? Just call me . . . Lucas.’

Her lips quirked at his response and her mood lightened. ‘That’s very forward of you, Lucas. If you are ignoring ettiquette you may call me Sarah.’

She heard him grind the stub of the cheroot under his boot. ‘So what brings you to explore the Duke’s maze, Sarah?’

She wasn’t sure what to say, opting for the truth. ‘I’ve just had a disagreement with my parents.’ Her smile disappeared as quickly as it came.

‘Not a serious one I hope.’ His sincerity warmed her.

‘They have decided to accept a marriage proposal on my behalf.’ Causing a sob to escape. How embarrassing to cry before a complete stranger. At least he couldn’t see her blubbering.

His tone was gentle. ‘Sarah, look up.’

As she looked at the top of the hedgerow a white handkerchief floated over the top. She caught the scrap of expensive linen midair, lifted her mask and dabbed at her eyes.

‘Isn’t it every woman’s dream to make a beneficial match?’

‘No. It is not. You’re just the same as them.’ Anger replaced her hurt and she strode further into the maze.

His footsteps dogged hers. ‘Sarah, wait.’

‘Perhaps you are used to dealing with empty headed ninnies Lucas, but I am not one. I won’t be forced into a loveless marriage.’

She followed the curve of the path, came to a juncture and decided to turn left, hoping to confront him. But he wasn’t there. She raised her voice so he could hear. ‘Haven’t you met someone for the first time and looked into their eyes to know that they’re the one?’

‘You’re a romantic then. Someone who believes in love at first sight.’ His statement was a purr next to her ear through the hedge and she jumped.

‘Good heavens! You startled me.’ Her hand flew up to cover her fast beating heart.

‘Are you saying you have been gripped by this condition?’

‘Condition? Condition! Love is not a condition, it is the song of the heart, Lucas. A reason to rise in the morning. And yes, perhaps I have had such happen to me.’

Despite her hidden companion she continued walking, determined to reach the fountain and gaze at its beauty.

‘Does the recipient of your ardour return in kind?’

Her reply was uncertain. ‘I do not know.’

A bridge came into view and she stopped in front of it wondering which way to go, up and over or continue past.

‘Take the bridge Sarah, it will lead you closer to the centre.’ How did he seem to know her every move?

She mounted the stairs and crossed to the middle of the bridge, looking out over the intricate pattern and tried to once again memorise the path before her. Lucas was nowhere to be seen and his absence left her disappointed.

‘Why can’t I see you?’ She called out.

‘I’m beneath the bridge.’

Instantly she looked down, but the boards were too close together to see anything.

She pleaded with him. ‘Come out, I wish to see with whom I converse.’

‘Not until you reach the centre.’ She could hear the playful tone in his reply.

‘What game is this you play?’

‘Exciting is it not? One needs a little excitement now and then.’

He was right and her heart started racing at the prospect of meeting him in the centre.

Before she left the bridge he walked out from beneath it and away from her, all she could see was his back and a head of slicked down dark hair. What a splendid back. His black evening attire was immaculate and fitted him like a glove. She watched the way he purposefully strode onwards and a sigh escaped. If he was this handsome from the back what would happen when she saw the rest of him?

He made her forget her ardent thoughts about the Earl of Marlbourne. Perhaps she’d been too focused on attracting the Earl to notice other men.

His amusement floated back to her. ‘You must stop enjoying the view if you are to ever reach the centre.’

Conceited devil. Heat rushed to colour her cheeks. How did he know she was staring? Deftly she left the bridge, picked up her skirts and started to race through the giant green walls forgetting about her new dress. Eager to see her mystery man.

She ran around for endless minutes seeming to make no progress.

Out of breath she found a stone bench and sat wondering which way to go. She needed Lucas’s help to navigate her way but stubbornly refused to ask for it. Besides he’d probably became bored with waiting and was already making his way back to the house.

‘Lost again, Sarah?’

She flew off the stone bench. ‘You must stop doing that!’

‘I’ve been waiting for you in the centre, but when you didn’t appear I thought I better come back to find you.’

Suspicion gripped her. ‘How do you know the maze so well?’

‘I’m related to the Duke, many family picnics and such.’

She couldn’t hide her excitement. ‘Do you know the Earl of Marlbourne?’ Perhaps Lucas could introduce them at the ball tonight? A pox on her parents. She’d do all she could to gain another dance with the dashing Earl.

 ‘Quite well. Perhaps you’d rather be lost in the maze with him.’ His annoyance was evident.

Goodness she’d upset him. ‘I’m sorry Lucas, I didn’t mean to be rude. You see . . . the Earl is the man who has captured my heart.’

‘Then would it be safe to say I have not a hope in hell of winning your fair hand?’ He sounded displeased. Could he be jealous?

‘Oh, Lucas. Please don’t be upset. I can’t help where my heart goes. I just have to follow. I see no reason we cannot be great friends.’

‘Perhaps friends is not enough for me.’ She heard the hurt before he walked away. Perhaps she was being foolish fancying herself in love with the Earl, her parents were right he had barely spent more than half an hour in her company. But he had been so handsome and worldly. She ran after the sound of Lucas’s footsteps, trying to explain.

‘Unfortunately Lucas, friends is all we shall ever be since I am now engaged to a stranger.’

‘Yes, perhaps you’re right. A man can always use another friend.’

She stopped as she reached another juncture. ‘Which way should I go now?’

‘Take the path to the right it will take you to the fountain. I’ll see you shortly Sarah.’

Excitement built again at the prospect of meeting and she hurried along, following the twisting path. The narrow confines of the path suddenly gave way to a large circular area. Stone benches ringed the perimeter framing numerous entry points from the different paths.  The focal point was the glorious marble fountain, bathed in the late afternoon light.

She stood in awe and watched the beautiful display. A large stream of water projected out of the top of the elaborate stone carving made up of reclining Greek gods and joyous cupids. A rainbow appeared in the fine misty spray before it fell back into the pond at the bottom.

As she gazed at the breathtaking sight, Lucas stepped out from behind the fountain and strode toward her. She would probably know who he was if he wasn’t wearing a mask like her. Stopping before her he took up her hand and kissed it ever so gently, then bowed low before her, much as a servant would his master.

‘Miss Sarah, I presume?’

His gallant behaviour and the pressure of his fingers as they held hers sent her pulse racing and she scoffed at the idea they would only be friends.

Dipping into her best curtsey she returned the greeting. ‘At your service, my Lord.’

‘Reverting to formalities I see.’

‘It’s clear you are of noble birth, my Lord, and it would be remiss of me to treat you otherwise.’

‘Come, let’s sit, I wish to enjoy the view.’ His eyes never wavered from her masked face and her mouth went dry as his meaning became evident. He meant her.

Nerves made her ungraceful. She sat with a thud on the cool surface of the bench beside him.

His sparkling blue eyes held her in a trance as he reached out and unfastened her mask, gently removing it and discarded it on the gravel at their feet.

‘So beautiful. No wonder a marriage offer has been made.’ The back of his gloved hand lightly caressed her cheek and a shiver of delight ran down her spine.

They were secluded, the tinkling of the fountain the only thing breaking the silence.

A boldness stole over her and she tentatively placed her hand on his thigh, wanting to feel the strength she could see under the expensive material. Passion radiated from his gaze at the contact. Her fingers flexed and his control broke.

Pins scattered as his hands delved into her hair. The tresses fell around her shoulders as his firm lips met hers, caressing and teasing, leaving a trail of fire. The pulse at the base of her throat started to pound and her eyes closed in drowsy languor. His tongue kept touching her lips and she gradually parted them in surrender. She wanted this to go on forever, never before had she felt this way. She would remember this afternoon for the rest of her life. Even after her forced marriage.

In response to his masterful kisses her body was hot and her hands were trembling. When his lips left hers abruptly she was instantly bereft. She didn’t want him to stop.

‘This cannot continue my love, lest I lose all control.’ His hand gave one final caress before he unexpectedly stood and turned his back to her, but not before she glimpsed the arousal he was trying to conceal.

She picked up some of the hairpins that had fallen onto her lap and tried to tidy her hair in an effort to dissolve her own rioting emotions. He stood with hands on hips and his head dropped down as if in defeat. His muscles tensed under his jacket as if he knew she watched him.

‘Sarah, I have a confession and I hope you can forgive me.’

He turned back to her and sank to his knees, looking her in the eye.

‘Lucas?’ Worry had her wringing her hands together.

His fingers slipped into his jacket and withdrew a little leather pouch. Loosening the drawstring he withdrew her grandmother’s diamond ring, holding it between his fingers.

‘Lucas where did you get granny’s ring?’ Had he stolen it from papa?

‘Your father gave it to me.’

Realisation flooded her.

‘You’re to be my betrothed?’ She couldn’t have been more shocked if he’d slapped her.

‘Yes.’

He extended the family heirloom towards her, the row of large diamonds winking at her.

‘Miss Sarah Brumsfield, will you consent to be my bride?’

‘But, Lucas, I don’t even know who you are.’

‘Then unmask me my lady.’

Trepidation filled her, what if he repulsed her? How could he, she had just spent the last hour running around a giant hedgerow exchanging engaging conversation. She knew he was playful and she desired him. What more could she really want? Love, she wanted love.

Reaching forward she untied his mask with trembling fingers. Lowering it from his face she sat in stunned silence.

‘Sarah? Sarah? Say something please.’ The silence stretched. ‘Anything.’

She didn’t know whether to laugh, cry or slap him.

‘What joke is this, Lord Marlbourne?’

‘It’s no joke Sarah.’

‘But we’ve scarce spent a half hour together and only one dance.’

He grasped her hands in his. ‘One dance that told me all I need to know. You are the one for me. Do you know how long I’ve been waiting for an engaging female to come along? I was worried all I would find were frivolous females with nary a thought but for fashion and social engagements. With your conversation about the latest reforms in Parliament and avid questions regarding my travel abroad I knew you were the one I’d been searching for.’

‘I…’ The enormity of the situation overwhelmed her, she was speechless.

He sat back on the bench beside her, her hands still in his.

‘I made my decision that night and approached your father shortly after. He told me it was your first season and he wanted to be sure he was making the right choice for his daughter. So I withdrew from social engagements so you could have the chance to meet other eligible men.’

‘You deceived me, my parents deceived me.’

‘I’m so sorry Sarah, please say you forgive me, I wish to announce our betrothal tonight.’

She remained mute while she ran the situation over in her mind. The Earl of Marlbourne wanted to marry her! Her. Sarah Brumsfield.

A wry smile touched her lips as pure joy began to wash over her. Everything was going to be all right.

‘Sarah, please, stop this torture. What happened to me ‘capturing your heart’?’

Her voice was a whisper. ‘You did. You have.’

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