The Duke's Masked Wife Chapter 3

“I got caught,” Alessandra whispered, pressing herself against a tree after putting plenty of distance between herself, Kate, and the Duke.

She was well aware of the crush Kate harbored for the Duke and ought to have anticipated that Kate would search for him. Alessandra prayed that Kate hadn't caught a single word of her conversation with the Duke.

Kate possessed enough malice to gossip about the contract to all her acquaintances if she overheard it.

“Please, let that not have happened.” Alessandra longed to linger and eavesdrop on the exchange between the Duke and Kate. She needed to account for the possibility that Edgar might betray her confidence without warning.

Based on the tales she'd picked up from Kate's loose lips, he came across as someone who didn't trifle or humiliate others lightly. There was no way he'd extended an invitation to his residence unless he meant business. Alessandra could merely trust her judgment on this.

Prior to heading to her next spot, she drew in a steadying breath, banishing all gloomy notions from her mind. Tomorrow would bring concerns about the rest, but for now, hunger gnawed at her fiercely. No meal had arrived in her room, and at this hour, she doubted it ever would.

This sabotage stemmed from either Kate or her mother.

.....

Alessandra pulled back from the tree, dashing to the kitchen's rear entrance. She glanced over her shoulder to confirm no one had trailed her this far prior to pushing the door open.

The sounds assaulting her ears upon entry were pure mayhem. Servants dashed about, striving to serve the banquet to the visitors. This frantic scene stood in stark contrast to the subdued atmosphere in her father's hall.

“Mario,” Alessandra summoned the chef while weaving through the frenzy.

The staff remained oblivious to Alessandra's presence, absorbed in their duties. She favored this anonymity.

“A tad too plain, isn't it? Alessandra,” remarked Mario, one of the trio of chefs, spotting her immediately. “Hold down the fort for me. I won't take long,” he instructed a fellow cook.

“Come with me,” he grasped Alessandra's hand, guiding her outdoors once more. The Baron's spouse kept making surprise checks in the kitchen to verify operations were seamless. He aimed to avoid any family member spotting Alessandra in there.

“Nobody brought food to my room,” she explained her bold venture here, despite the dangers.

Mario shut the door after them, letting go of Alessandra's hand now that they stood outside. “That hag's to blame. Only a month back, they dismissed most of the cooks and various staff. Yet here we are with this event, short-handed and overwhelmed. What were they expecting?”

“Duke Collins seeks a bride. Word hasn't reached you?”

Mario snorted at the news. “Ah, so that's it. Did they host this gathering solely for Kate to encounter him? I bet she's buzzing around him like an annoying pest at this very moment.”

“I've talked with him,” Alessandra replied softly.

“The Duke? On what matter?” Mario couldn't fathom why Alessandra would interact with such a figure. Plenty of dark tales circulated about Edgar. “He has quite the sinister reputation.”

“Just as I have stories tied to this mask. Do you put stock in them?” she inquired, though she already knew his stance. She had no grounds to heed gossip about him when falsehoods plagued her own name.

Mario fell quiet, having certainly caught the whispers about Alessandra. He'd never glimpsed her face since she always kept the mask on around him, yet he rejected the notion that her appearance could slay anyone on sight. “No, I don't.”

“In that case, I'll afford the Duke a chance without prejudice. I can't disclose our discussion, but I'll share that I'm anticipating positive outcomes,” Alessandra leaned on a crumbling wall, gazing toward the path she'd taken.

“Does this tie into your getaway scheme? I hope the Duke aids your escape to a distant place. It's regrettable you can't travel solo due to those missing girls,” Mario joined her at the wall, settling down beside Alessandra.

“May the perpetrator be caught and the girls found safe,” Alessandra voiced her wish.

“I caught your father boasting he knew details about it while bringing his coffee. They brought me on as a chef, but with all the cuts, I'm doubling as a servant now. It'd be fair if they compensated me for the added tasks,” Mario vented, kicking a pebble in frustration.

Alessandra observed the pebble skitter off. “When I depart, you ought to join me. You've shown me constant kindness, and I'd like to repay it.”

“That's generous of you, but I still owe the Baron for a loan. I've got roughly a year left to settle it, then I'll track you down. You're the sole Barrett I tolerate. Can't fathom what's flawed with the rest.” Without Alessandra, he'd deem the whole family intolerable.

“I can't explain my father's failings. Mario, I require a couple of favors. I'm not on good terms with the coachman, but you are. Could you ask him to ferry me somewhere tomorrow without alerting my family? He might fear me and bolt before I get a word in,” Alessandra requested.

Mario stood as the only one she confided in this manner, dismissing tales of her face causing deaths or being a specter herself.

“That shouldn't prove difficult. I assume this outing links to the Duke. I'm leery of him, Alessandra. Even if you shun baseless rumors without personal knowledge, certain red flags demand vigilance,” Mario voiced his distrust of Edgar.

“I'll heed your warning and stay alert. I never venture without my reliable knife,” she drew a petite blade from her dress pocket. Mario had pilfered it sometime back to arm her for safety. “Should he attempt anything, it'll be over in a flash!”

Mario regarded her knife grip with mild disapproval. “Remember, that's a blade you're wielding, not a firearm. What's the other favor?”

“Mario!” A shout echoed from the kitchen interior.

“Some food, if you please,” Alessandra flashed an innocent grin.

“On it immediately. I need to hurry before they string me up for dallying,” he rose from the wall, brushed off his trousers, and headed back through the door.

As Alessandra awaited her meal patiently, she drummed her fingers to the distant melody drifting from the house. It was her father's favorite tune, one he insisted on at every soiree.

She shut her eyes, picturing herself swaying to the melody, chatting lightly with guests, and savoring the cuisine. If only the mask weren't mandatory and the scary rumors didn't send people fleeing at her appearance.

After what felt like a reasonable wait, Mario came back bearing a platter of assorted dishes and a pitcher of beverage.

“I've gathered a taste of various items for you,” Mario's voice broke her reverie.

Blinking her eyes open, Alessandra confronted the truth: she'd pass the evening in solitude with the kitten she'd lately rescued. Together, they'd tune into the music from her room's safety while dining, then drift off to sleep.