FACE TO FACE

  A WALTZ WITH DESTINY: BOOK ONE

  ALANNA LUCAS

  Copyright © 2022 by Alanna Lucas

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

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  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner.

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  ISBN 978-1-956367-02-7

  Sebastiani Press

  PO Box 1234

  Simi Valley, Ca 93062

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  Cover by Dar Albert

  Created with Vellum

  For Grandpa

  CONTENTS

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  Also by Alanna Lucas

  CHAPTER 1

  London, 1819

  For as long as Miss Penelope Ashurst could remember, she had always tried to do everything her father asked of her, even more so after the death of her mother four years previously. Father had never ceased mourning his late wife, and Penelope had not wanted to cause him further grief, and so she’d been most obedient. Unfortunately, she had become known throughout the ton as the Dutiful Daughter—a moniker she was about to shed as she snuck out of her room.

  Penelope peered both ways down the dark hall. Not a soul was stirring within the great house. Her father had retired for the evening, and the servants would not be about this time of night. Holding a single flickering candle, she emerged from her room, pulling her heavy cloak close about her figure to ward off the chill that penetrated to her core. It was a rather cool evening, Penelope tried to convince herself. She did not want to admit that part of what she might be feeling was guilt. The door to her chamber clicked shut, urging her forward on her quest, and her heart hammered against her breastbone. She had never done anything so disobedient and reckless in her life, and found the prospect both frightening and exhilarating.

  Tiptoeing past her father’s room, she noted no light emanated from beneath the closed door. It was only when she reached the servants’ stairwell that she released a shaky breath, causing the candle to sputter and die out. Damn, she would have to traverse the rest of the way in the dark. Taking careful steps down the stairs, the sound of her pounding heart echoed in her ears.

  Almost there.

  The kitchen was still warm from the preparation of the evening meal, but no one was about. Her stomach growled the moment the lingering smell of roast ribs of beef and potatoes entered her nostrils. Later, she would indulge herself. Taking in one last whiff of the appealing aroma, she continued on her current course, and with only the faint glow of moonlight coming through the window to guide her, she slowly made her way across the kitchen.

  “Oh!” She sucked in her breath as she stumbled against the wood block table in the center of the room. Leaning down to rub her throbbing toes, she fought back stinging tears of pain.

  Her gaze snapped up when a soft tap broke the silence. “Who’s there?” she uttered without thought into the silent night, her breathing heavy with anticipation of discovery. Keeping perfectly still, she waited for some response, but the only sound she could hear was the rustling of leaves in the trees outside. Not wasting any more time for fear of being found out, she crept the last few steps toward the exit.

  Opening the rear door with quiet ease, she slipped out into the foggy night. She had not realized beads of perspiration had formed on her forehead until the cold night air met with her damp skin, sending a shiver rippling down her spine. Pulling her cloak closer about her, she made her way through the garden, her light footsteps upon the gravel path disrupting the leaves’ staccato rustling.

  Only when she opened the garden gate did her nerves begin to ease and her breathing steadied. In the near distance, beyond the alleyway, the clap- clap of horses’ hooves echoed through the otherwise quiet London neighborhood. She closed the gate with a soft clang, a slight sigh escaping her lips. Her flight into the unknown was a success; she’d made it beyond the confines of her home without detection.

  “Judy,” she whispered into the foggy night. She waited for a response, but none came. Her friend was already supposed to be here. Tapping her slippered foot with a steady rhythm, she grumbled to herself, “I will give her just five minutes.” It would not be fair if she’d gone to such great lengths to sneak out, only to be discovered just waiting at the rear of the house. If she were to be caught, she vowed it would not be until after she’d had her adventure.

  It was a tremendous risk.

  If she was found attending a masquerade at the home of one of London’s most notorious bachelors, her reputation would be ruined. But, after her confrontation with her father earlier that evening regarding her future, she did not care. She wanted to experience one moment of freedom before duty dictated the rest of her life.

  Her body quivered as the damp air penetrated through her coat and costume. Crossing her arms across her body, she exhaled with frustration. “Where is she?” No sooner had the words brushed past her lips than an apparition came rushing through the fog. “Ohhh…!” She was just about to scream when the figure draped in white emerged. It wasn’t until she saw the tall staff the specter carried that she recognized her friend. “Where have you been?” she hissed at Judy. “I was just about to give up.”

  “I had to wait for the house to quiet.” Judy took Penelope’s arm and tugged her into the thickening haze. Once they were farther along the street and walking toward their destination, Judy explained, “I think my brother may suspect what we are about this evening. We have to make sure we stay clear of him. He is dressed like a pirate.”

  “A pirate?”

  Judy nodded her head. “Eye patch and all. He looks ridiculous.” Her high-pitched giggle caught the attention of a pair of young gentlemen on the opposite side of the road.

  Penelope eyed Judy with alarm. “Shh. Do you want to be recognized?”

  Without further conversation, they scurried along toward their journey’s end.

  Another thrill of adventure shot through Penelope at the realization of what they were about to do. She had always longed for excitement and adventure. Over the years, her father had been consistently protective of her, his concern reaching epic proportions after her mother’s death. She was not allowed to experience life because of Father’s constant fear that some harm could befall her.

  He had planned every detail of her life—every acquaintance, social event, and diversion. If she were a boy, she would have been congratulated for any mischievousness. She’d always thought it rather unfair that men could do whatever they pleased without the possibility of ruination. Judy’s brother was the perfect example. Harvey had got into his fair share of scrapes over the years, and yet he was not condemned or ostracized for his behavior.

  When Judy overheard Harvey’s plans to attend Lord Cowen’s masquerade, she rushed to tell Penelope. This was the perfect opportunity for them to see how the other half of the world enjoyed themselves while still keeping their identities—and reputations—safe.

  Judy was dressed as a shepherdess, all in white, with a large hooked staff. Penelope’s choice of costume was simple. She’d chosen to be her namesake. She was Penelope, wife of Odysseus, in Homer’s Odyssey, her identity concealed by a golden mask.

  The costume was rather splendid. Yards of smooth primrose silk were draped about her body, and the gold floral motif brooch that was pinned at her shoulder complemented her mask. It was to have been her attire for Judy’s upcoming birthday masque, but there hadn’t been time to arrange for another for tonight. Besides, this ensemble made her look beyond her twenty years.

  She spotted a rambunctious trio of men heading in the same direction, butterflies rising in her stomach as she sputtered, “We’re almost there.” She just knew this adventure would change her life.

  “Now remember,” lectured Judy, “we are only to spend one hour, see what all the fuss is about, and then return home.” Penelope could not see her friend’s hand beneath her white cloak, but she was most certain that Judy was wagging a finger at her when she added, “And make sure my brother does not notice you.”

  Although Judy was just as curious about Lord Cowen’s infamous soirée as she, Penelope had had to convince her dearest friend to attend. It was true that Judy had come to her in a flurry of excitement with all the details, but that was the usual course of things. Once the reality of what they were planning to do set in and they considered the possible consequences, Judy would turn motherly, full of don’ts. Without fail, Penelope would oblige Judy’s fears by staying safely at home, dreaming about the world that was happening all around her. But tonight was different. Something deep inside had convinced her to take this risk.

  “The house is just beyond the parked carriages,” Judy voiced above a horse’s neigh.

  They were really going to do this!
A sense of exhilaration consumed Penelope, as music and laughter emanated through the open windows and on to the street.

  She picked up her pace, but Judy tugged her to a halt. “Slow down. We need to put our masks on.”

  “Oh, I almost forgot.” It would be a disaster if someone recognized them, especially before they’d even entered Lord Cowen’s home. She had not put the mask on earlier in case she was discovered sneaking out of her house. It was one thing to be caught, and quite another to be caught going to a masquerade.

  She positioned the mask, tucking the ribbon under her curls. “Is mine on straight?”

  “Here, let me adjust…” Judy stopped mid-sentence and gave Penelope an impatient stare. “Stop fidgeting or I won’t be able to secure it properly, and then where will we be?”

  “Oh, all right, but do hurry.” Penelope tried to control the flurry of exhilaration whipping through her insides. When she turned to secure Judy’s mask, her agitation bubbled over straight to her hands and she fumbled with the ribbon for what seemed an eternity before the disguise was set in place.

  Within a matter of moments, they were ascending the front steps of Lord Cowen’s townhouse. This is your last opportunity to turn back. She quickly dismissed that thought from her mind. Her body tingled with each step she took, and she was nearly giddy with delight.

  The liveried butler holding the white front door open showed no interest in their possible identities. They were ushered inside toward a waiting servant, who came forward to take their cloaks.

  Penelope could not believe her eyes. The crimson grand hall was the backdrop for a statue of Bacchus, in all his naked glory. She had never seen anything so vulgar. That is, until she glanced upward at the frescoed ceiling.

  Depicted overhead was a pastoral set against a lush green landscape. But instead of a shepherd tending his flock, the scene was of naked women…

  Oh, my. What is that lady doing to the shepherd?

  She could feel the heat rising in her cheeks at the rather vivid sexual display. Turning her head away with embarrassment, she followed close behind Judy into the large ballroom.

  The scent of burning candles filled the air. She stood and watched scantily clothed ladies parade around masked men, enticing them with a seductive look or a partially exposed bosom. When the music stopped, the women rushed toward the available males, and laughter filled the air as the provocative game came to an end. Some of the ladies pulled their willing partner to the dance floor, while others guided their choice for the evening through a doorway at the far end of the room.

  Penelope’s heartbeat quickened with curiosity, wondering if her assumption of what occurred behind that closed door was accurate.

  The orchestra struck up a waltz, and the remaining couples began to glide through the room in elegant maneuvers. Their masked faces could not hide the mischievousness in their eyes. Gilded mirrors reflected the exotic scene. The atmosphere was lively and mystical, creating the perfect setting for escapades and arousal.

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  What am I doing here? Ranulph thought to himself for the hundredth time that evening. And just like the previous ninety-nine times, the answer was the same, Nigel. His younger brother had quite the flair for getting into trouble. When Ranulph had discovered Nigel’s plans, instead of deterring him, he’d somehow ended up agreeing to accompany him. This sort of entertainment had ceased to intrigue him years ago. Actually, this sort of entertainment had never appealed to him. He was not a rake or rogue, never had time to indulge in such pastimes. His late father had made sure of that. The future heir to an earldom, according to his papa, was supposed to be respectable and responsible, two words that Ranulph had come to detest.

  “It is amazing,” Nigel said, looking at Ranulph, taunting him as only a younger brother could.

  Meeting Nigel’s eyes, Ranulph gave him a stern glare. “What is ‘amazing’?” He was in no mood to deal with his brother’s sense of humor, or lack thereof.

  “Even behind a black mask, the scowl on your face is most apparent.” His brother delivered another jab. “You’ll never secure a companion for the evening with that glower.”

  “I don’t want a companion. I am only here to ensure that you behave yourself. After last week’s fiasco with that opera singer, I am not sure Mother could take another scandal.” Ranulph’s heart ached with the thought of all the embarrassment his brother’s misdemeanors had brought to their mother’s doorstep over the years.

  “What happened to you? You used to laugh and at least pretend to enjoy yourself, and now…” His brother shook his head at him before continuing, “You’ve grown much too serious. What you need is…”

  Nigel’s words faded into a dull hum. He meant well, but he did not understand. Ever since Ranulph was a young child, he’d been held to a higher standard, constantly reminded that he would one day take his father’s place as the Earl of Monfort. His entire life had been spent under the crushing weight of a responsibility he could not bring himself to ignore.

  His brother’s words became audible again, “You’re on your own for the rest of the evening, dear brother.”

  Ranulph was about to give Nigel his “you’d better not cause too much trouble or else” look when he saw her, a veritable goddess in soft primrose silk. He heard his brother bid farewell for the evening, but suddenly he did not care. Standing not ten feet in front of him was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.

  Her elegant costume was draped about her form, emphasizing her womanly curves. She was neither too petite nor too tall. Her hair, pinned with small crepe roses sporadically adorning its soft tendrils, cascaded down her delicate neck. He watched as she smiled at the antics of a pair of dominoes who had disrupted the dance with their own version of a waltz. Even though her mask covered most of her face, it did not hide the sweet dimples that peeked through.

  She did not belong here, any more than he. Curious to know who she was, he pushed his way through the boisterous crowd. He meant to speak to her. However, when he reached her side, for the first time in his life, he struggled for words. Clearing his throat, he stuttered, “May… I have the…” He swallowed hard before getting the rest of his words out. “Pleasure of this waltz?”

  Good Lord, he was acting like a schoolboy attempting his first conquest. No woman had ever discomposed him so. Leaning in, he waited in agony, the seconds drawing out in anticipation of her response.

  When she lowered her lashes, he thought she would refuse him. But when she glanced up at him with a mixture of uncertainty and excitement, her green eyes twinkled with delight. She did not speak, just nodded her acceptance, and extended her gloved hand. The moment Ranulph took it, his pulse raced, and a jolt careened through his body.

  The music began, and he guided her with ease to the flowing, melodious sound. Her body was made to fit against his. He wondered if his goddess felt the same. “You are a graceful dancer.” He hoped his compliment would coax words from her delectable mouth. He wanted to know who she was and why she was here.

  Her eyelids fluttered lower with a sweet shyness. “Thank you.”

  He knew without a doubt his initial thought was correct. This goddess was not meant to be here. The trouble was, it would appear that she was not one for conversation. “And who are you pretending to be this evening?” That question earned him a direct look. He noticed her eyes were not just green, but jade with flecks of gold.

  “Penelope.”

  “Wife of Odysseus?”

  Enthusiasm shone brightly in her gaze, and all her nervousness had melted away. “Are you familiar with Homer’s Odyssey?”

  “There is a copy in my father’s library.” It was his library now, had been for the last year. Although he had been groomed his whole life to follow in his father’s footsteps, it still felt disrespectful to call those things, once his papa’s, his own.