| The following is an excerpt from The Masquerade by Brenda Joyce:
Lizzie Fitzgerald has returned home with a bastard child, her reputation in ruins. The child is not hers — he is the son of Tyrell de Warenne — but she has claimed the child as her own to protect those she loves. And she loves Ned as if he is her own — she cannot give him up. She has refused to identify Ned's father, but finally her dear aunt Eleanor has done so, thinking it is for the best. Her parents are outraged, and they have marched their daughter up to Adare, demanding marriage to the earl's son. There is one huge problem: Tyrell knows he has never had Lizzie in his bed. And Lizzie has been in love with him from afar since she was a child...
The countess returned to the salon with her husband, the earl of Adare. Lizzie sat on the edge of her chair, praying she had convinced the countess to let her and Ned go. Her cheeks were already feverish and she was ill with anxiety. The moment the earl appeared in the room, his hard, incredulous regard instantly upon her, she knew she was doomed.
He was angry, quietly so, but his anger was visible enough.
The moment his piercing gaze met hers, she sank into a deep curtsy, her heart racing helplessly. She prayed that this interview would end very, very soon and that Ned would not be lost to her forever.
"Miss Fitzgerald," the earl said, taking her elbow and helping her to her feet.
Lizzie was forced to meet his brilliant blue gaze. Like Tyrell, he had dark, curling hair, but otherwise, his complexion was quite fair. He was a very handsome man with an air of authority that was inescapable. Lizzie realized that the countess had closed the salon doors.
Her fear escalated.
"You are the mother of my son's child?" The earl was asking. His tone was brusque.
Lizzie was aware of her parents behind her, impatient for her correct replies. There could not be any denial, not now, not on this point. Lizzie clung to her hope that she would be allowed to leave with Ned. "Yes, my lord," she managed.
His face hardened. His gaze moved over her slowly. There was nothing insulting about his regard but Lizzie flushed again. "You claim my son seduced you," he said flatly.
Lizzie truly wished to die. "No, my lord," she said, ignoring Papa who jerked on her arm. "I am entirely to blame. I seduced him."
The earl made a sound, clearly not believing her. "You hardly strike me as a seductress. And my son is no rake."
She wet her lips. "We were in costume. He had no comprehension of my identity. It was my fault entirely."
"Are you defending him now?"
She swallowed, feeling as if she were on trial in the King's Bench. She was not going to accuse Tyrell of seduction. "It was a flirtation that got out of hand," she whispered.
He whirled to stare at Ned. His cheeks colored as he did.
Lizzie hugged herself.
The countess, who had come to stand behind her husband, said softly, "There is no question that is Ty's son."
The earl choked, "I can quite see that."
Lizzie felt faint. They were so certain — as they should be — but surely they would change their mind when Tyrell mocked her claims. Surely she and her entire family were going to be thrown out of Adare.
The countess laid her palm on his arm, clearly offering him emotional support.
The earl said, "You do not strike me as a seductress, Miss Fitzgerald. Before I speak with Tyrell, I wish to understand exactly how this happened."
Lizzie was mortified. She wanted to ask him why it mattered at all. But she did not dare. She also knew she would never convince the earl that she was a seductress. For he was scowling at her, clearly not having believed a word she had said — except for her claim that Ned was Tyrell's son.
She heard herself say, "I have been in love with Tyrell my entire life." And the moment the words were out, tears rose. She covered her mouth with her hand.
"It's true," Mama cried, stepping forward. "My Lizzie has been in love with your son ever since she was a child. We used to laugh about it; we used to tease her — we thought she'd outgrow such foolishness. But she never did," Mama exclaimed.
The earl stared at Lizzie. She felt her knees shake. "So you thought to entrap my son?"
"No," Lizzie cried, aghast.
"But you are here, with his child, demanding marriage. And I still fail to understand. You may have been in costume, but Tyrell would never allow such an episode to be forgotten. I know my son. Once he realized his mistake, he would have sought to make amends, in one manner or another."
Lizzie did not know what to say. "I concealed my identity from him," she managed. "And then I ran away."
The earl finally turned away, looking closely at Ned. The toddler was quietly playing with a toy soldier on the floor. But he paused at once, looking up at the man who was his grandfather.
The countess cleared her voice. "The portrait in the dining room of Ty and his mother. This child could have sat for it."
The earl turned away from Ned, facing Lizzie and her parents. "This is a most unfortunate circumstance, as far as your daughter is concerned," he said flatly.
"You are a just man," Papa returned as flatly. "I thought you would see it that way."
"You mistake my intent," the earl said coldly. "I regret your daughter's ruin, but I cannot regret having any grandson, not even an illegitimate one."
Lizzie's fear knew no bounds. This is not what she had expected. She hurried to Ned, tripping in her haste. He beamed at her, saying, "Mama," as she lifted him into her arms.
"What is your meaning, my lord?" Papa asked tersely.
"My son is about to become engaged to Lord Harrington's daughter and I will brook no interference in the match."
Lizzie squeezed her eyes tightly closed. Now, surely, they would be sent home. Her heart beat madly, her legs felt weak. She could not get enough air.
"We will gladly raise my grandson here," the earl said. "In fact, there is no other possibility."
Lizzie shook her head. "No."
He turned a cold gaze upon her. "I will settle a pension upon you. You will lack for nothing, Miss Fitzgerald. Again, I am very sorry for this unfortunate circumstance. And you may be certain, my son will behave honorably in the future. I know that is a small consolation, but it all that I can offer you."
Lizzie cried out. "I will lack my son! I will not be separated from him!"
The earl looked at her in real surprise. The countess came forward, appearing somewhat moved by Lizzie's plight — or Lizzie hoped desperately that was the case. "My lady," she cried. "I cannot leave my son!"
"Lizzie," Mama said, tugging on her hand. "Maybe this is for the best."
"Our Lizzie is ruined," Papa said, his nose turning red.
Lizzie shrugged vehemently free of her mother. "Ned needs me," she cried in desperate outrage. "I am not giving him up. I can raise him — I shall!"
The earl was staring at her as if she had grown a second head.
And at that precise moment, the words barely out of her mouth, Tyrell stepped through both massive doors. Lizzie froze, Ned still in her arms. Tyrell had already skewered her with his dark regard. "You are looking for me?" He asked politely, and the question seemed to be directed at his parents, but Lizzie could not be sure as his gaze did not waver from hers.
Her heart now surged against her breast like the wings of a frantic bird, trapped in an iron cage. Oh, she was ready to faint! But at least he was there, to deny being Ned's father, so they might escape!
"I believe you know Mr. and Mrs. Fitzgerald," The earl said grimly. "And their daughter, Miss Elizabeth Anne."
Tyrell did not bow. He merely inclined his head and Lizzie swore she could feel a red hot tension emanating from him. Lizzie steeled herself for his scorn. She was so ashamed now of the lie that was hers, never mind her intent to protect Anna and keep Ned.
"But I believe you have not met your son," the earl said.
Tyrell jerked, his gaze flying from Lizzie to the child in her arms. "My what?" The countess touched his arm. "I know this is a shock. We are all shocked, and rightly so," she said softly.
Tyrell stared at Ned, stunned, and then his gaze clashed with Lizzie's again.
Lizzie bit her lip, quaking.
"You claim that is my child?" he demanded, now in disbelief.
Lizzie could not answer.
"I believe he was conceived on All Hallow's Eve, was he not, Miss Fitzgerald?"
Tyrell stiffened, glancing once at his father and then turning back to Lizzie. His stare was growing hard. She could see the scorn beginning. She shrank. He said, his tone cold and dangerous, "On All Hallow's Eve?"
This was not going the way she had planned, Lizzie somehow managed to think. He must not realize that Ned was his son, and he was going to comprehend the entire affair — including the one he'd had with her sister — very shortly, she was certain.
"Ned is my son," she whispered, but no one seemed to hear her.
Papa stepped forward and he was pointing at Tyrell, his face crimson with rage. "I do not care what cockamamie story my daughter has invented to protect you, sir! You got her with child! You have destroyed her life! Your father refuses to condone a marriage between you both! What kind of man are you then, to so abuse my innocent daughter and then to walk away?"
Tyrell stiffened at Papa's final fighting words. He had the oddest appearance now — as if some comprehension had begun, mingling with his now absolute disbelief. "I got you with child," he repeated incredulously.
Lizzie closed her eyes and felt a tear slip out. At least, she thought in utter mortification, he would denounce Ned as his son now. And he would forever consider her the worst liar — and that is what she had become. She could only pray that one day Ned could still claim his birthright.
"We will raise the child here," the earl interrupted flatly. "I will take care of Miss Fitzgerald. Otherwise, nothing changes. Marriage to Miss Fitzgerald is out of the question."
"Marriage to Miss Fitzgerald," Tyrell echoed.
Lizzie's eyes flew open and he was looking at her, laughing now, but she saw no mirth on his face. There was only anger.
Papa shouted, "This is no laughing matter, sir!"
Tyrell raised his hand and Papa fell silent. "Enough," he said, no longer smiling. "I wish a word alone with Miss Fitzgerald."
Lizzie somehow kept from gasping in horror. She shook her head, backing away. Being alone with him now was impossible — she would not do it.
"I wish a word alone with the mother of my child," Tyrell amended. And he smiled at her, a cold, hard smile that did not reach his eyes. |
