Chapter Fifteen
The ballroom of Pelham Hall glowed with hundreds of candles, their light catching on masks of every description - from simple dominos to elaborate creations of feathers and jewels. Emma stood in the doorway, her blue mask settling comfortably against her face, and felt the magic of the evening sweep over her.
Behind her mask, she could observe without being observed. Her eyes found Nathaniel immediately - his height and bearing making him unmistakable even with his silver mask. He stood with Lord James near the musicians, his attention apparently on their discussion, yet she saw his head lift the moment that she entered.
“Rather fitting, don’t you think?” Lady Beatrice whispered beside her. “Everyone in masks, yet you two find each other instantly.”
“As if masks could hide what matters.” Lady Agatha’s voice held approval. “Go on, my dear. I believe that your presence is eagerly awaited.”
Emma moved into the room, accepting compliments on her mask from several guests. The Duke had arranged for everyone to wear their masks from the start of the evening - adding an air of mystery to even simple conversation.
“Miss Everton.” Nathaniel’s voice behind her made her pulse jump. “Might I claim your first dance?”
She turned to find him bowing perfectly, his silver mask catching the light. The intricate pattern seemed to shift and change as he moved, making her think of moonlight on water.
“Our masks complement each other beautifully,” she said softly as he led her to the floor. “Almost as if they were designed that way.”
“Almost.” His smile was visible beneath his mask. “Though I find the lady wearing the blue far more compelling than any mere craftwork.”
The music began - a waltz, of course. Emma’s breath caught as Nathaniel drew her into his arms. They had danced together several times since their reconciliation, but something about tonight felt different. Perhaps it was the masks, creating an illusion of privacy even in this crowded room. Perhaps it was the knowledge that the house party was ending, that tomorrow would begin a new chapter in their story.
“You seem deep in thought,” he murmured as they turned.
“I was thinking about endings and beginnings.” She met his eyes through their masks. “About how much has changed since that first night when the Valentine’s lottery paired us together.”
“Ah yes. When I thought you too spirited, and you thought me too rigid.” His hand tightened slightly at her waist. “How wrong I was about so many things.”
“Not wrong, exactly.” She smiled up at him. “Just... incomplete in your understanding. As was I.”
“And now?” His voice held a deeper note that made her heart race.
“Now I understand that true propriety comes from caring, not rules. That trust matters more than appearances.”
“You taught me that, even as you learnt it.” The warmth in his tone made her breath catch. “You taught me so many things about what truly matters.”
They waltzed in silence for a moment, both aware of the eyes watching them. Even behind masks, their growing closeness was obvious to the assembled company.
“I have something planned,” Nathaniel said softly as the dance drew to a close. “After the supper dance. Will you trust me?”
Emma’s heart leapt at the combination of uncertainty and hope in his voice.
“Yes. Always.”
The evening seemed to float past in a whirl of music and laughter. Emma danced with Lord James, with Lord Radmill, with the Duke himself - but her awareness remained fixed on Nathaniel. He moved through the room with his usual grace, perfectly correct in his behaviour, yet somehow different. More relaxed, more genuine in his interactions.
“He’s quite transformed,” the Duke observed during their set. “Though perhaps ‘revealed’ might be a better word. The real man was always there, just hidden behind too many rules.”
“Your Grace is very perceptive.” Emma followed the figures of the dance, watching Nathaniel bow to his current partner.
“One tries.” The Duke’s eyes twinkled behind his elaborate mask. “Particularly when one has gone to such trouble to arrange certain... opportunities.”
Emma’s steps faltered slightly, as a startling idea arrived in her mind.
“The Valentine’s lottery wasn’t truly random, was it?”
“My dear Miss Everton, what a shocking suggestion.” But his smile widened. “Though I must say, everything has worked out rather as I hoped. Even the... complications... only served to prove what was real.”
As the set ended, Emma saw Nathaniel speaking quietly with the musicians. Her heart quickened - the supper dance would begin soon. Whatever he had planned... She turned away, and went towards Lady Beatrice, determined to trust…
“Miss Everton.” His voice behind her made her turn. “Might I partner you for supper?”
“Of course, my Lord.”
But instead of leading her towards the supper room, he drew her to the centre of the ballroom. The musicians began to play - not the usual country dance, but a waltz. A waltz that seemed somehow familiar...
“The same music that they played that first night,” Nathaniel said softly. “When the lottery paired us together. Though this time...” He reached up and removed his mask. “This time I want no barriers between us.”
A hush fell over the ballroom. Emma’s hands trembled as she removed her own mask, aware of every eye upon them. Nathaniel took both her hands in his, his expression more open than she had ever seen it.
“When I arrived at this house party,” he said, his voice carrying clearly in the silence, “I thought that I knew everything about proper behaviour. About what mattered in life. I was wrong.” His smile held such tenderness that it made her heart ache. “You showed me that real propriety comes from caring, not rules. That trust matters more than appearances. That love... love is worth any risk.”
Emma’s breath caught as he bowed deeply before her, still holding one of her hands. The he rose, and met her eyes. Everything else seemed to fade away in that moment – she was captivated.
“Miss Emma Everton, you have taught me to trust, to feel, to hope. Will you do me the very great honour of becoming my wife?”
Tears spilled down Emma’s cheeks as she looked into his beloved face - no masks, no barriers, just truth between them.
“Yes,” she whispered, then louder, “Yes.”
The ballroom erupted in applause as Nathaniel drew her close, lifting their joined hands. His kiss was perfectly proper, just a brief touch of his lips to her hand, but his eyes promised so much more.
“Well!” The Duke’s voice held satisfaction. “I believe that this calls for a celebration. To supper, everyone! Though perhaps we might dispense with masks for the rest of the evening?”
*****
Emma sat beside Nathaniel at supper, her heart still racing from his proposal. The Duke had arranged their seating perfectly - her aunt across from them, Lord James and Lady Beatrice to either side, creating a bubble of understanding around their newfound joy.
She was betrothed. The thought kept sweeping through her, making her fingers tremble slightly as she lifted her glass. Not just betrothed, but betrothed to a man who had learned to balance strength with tenderness, rules with feeling. Who had transformed himself not because she demanded it, but because he had discovered what truly mattered.
Every time she glanced at him, she found him already watching her, his expression holding a warmth that made her breath catch, and warmth fill her. The rigid mask of propriety had vanished completely, replaced by genuine joy that lit his entire countenance.
“I believe,” he said softly, for her ears alone, “that I have never been so happy in my life.”
“Even though everyone is watching?”
She couldn’t help teasing him gently about his former obsession with appearances.
“Let them watch.” His smile held both tenderness and triumph. “Let them see that true happiness comes from trust, not rules. From letting oneself feel deeply rather than maintaining perfect control.”
Emma’s heart swelled.
This was the real Nathaniel - the man she had glimpsed beneath his rigid exterior from the start. The man who could command a ship through storms yet spend hours crafting a delicate mask just to show her that he understood.
Around them, conversation flowed easily. She caught fragments of plans being discussed - her aunt and the Duchess already talking of wedding preparations, Lord James teasing his brother about finally getting something right, Lady Beatrice glowing with shared happiness.
But mostly she was aware of Nathaniel beside her, of how their fingers kept finding ways to touch as they passed dishes or reached for glasses. Each brief contact sent sparks through her entire body, making her wonder how she would survive the weeks until their wedding with any composure at all.
*****
Nathaniel could scarcely focus on his food, so caught was he by the joy in Emma’s expression every time she looked his way. His heart felt too full for his chest, expanding with each smile, each brush of her fingers against his.
He had planned the proposal carefully - the music from their first meeting, the removal of masks to show complete honesty, the words that he had practiced a hundred times. Yet in the moment, different words had come, springing from his heart rather than careful preparation.
And they had been perfect. Just as she was perfect - not because she never made mistakes, but because she was real, genuine, true to herself in all things. She had taught him that perfection lay not in rigid rules but in honest feeling.
“I do hope,” Lord James murmured from beside him, “that you realise how fortunate you are, brother.”
“More than fortunate.” Nathaniel watched as Emma laughed at something Lady Beatrice said, her entire face lighting with joy. “Though I cannot quite credit that she accepted me, after everything.”
“She accepted you because you learned.” James’ voice held unusual seriousness. “Not just about trust and feeling, but about yourself. About what kind of man you truly want to be. And because your love for her was overwhelmingly obvious to anyone who looked at you.”
Nathaniel considered this as he watched Emma.
Yes, he had learned - about trust, about love, about letting go of rigid control. But most importantly, he had learned that real strength lay not in perfect behaviour, but in perfect understanding. Now that he understood it, he was forced to wonder how he had ever been so blind as to not see the truth of it before.
The supper service began to wind down. Soon they would return to dancing - their first dance as a betrothed couple. The thought made his heart race with anticipation.
When the musicians began to play again, another waltz, Nathaniel led Emma onto the floor. The other guests drew back, giving them space for this moment. Emma felt herself trembling slightly as he drew her into his arms.
“Everything has changed,” she whispered as they began to move.
“And yet somehow everything feels exactly right.” His eyes held such tenderness that she could scarcely credit it was real. “As if every step of our journey, even the painful ones, led us to precisely where we needed to be.”
They moved together perfectly, as if they had been dancing so for all of their lives. Emma was acutely aware of his hand at her waist, of how his touch felt different now - still proper, but with a promise of forever in it. Other couples joined them on the floor, but they remained in their own world, speaking through glances and subtle touches what words could not yet say.
“I have something else for you,” Nathaniel said softly as they turned. “Though perhaps it should wait until we’re properly chaperoned tomorrow.”
“More secrets, my Lord?”
“No more secrets.” His smile lit his entire face. “Only true tokens of affection. Though I fear that my craftwork may never quite match my feelings.”
Emma’s heart soared at this evidence of how far he had come - from rigid propriety to open declarations of feeling, yet somehow maintaining perfect behaviour through it all.
As the dance ended, she saw their future stretching before them - a future built on trust and understanding, on the perfect balance between propriety and feeling.
The Duke’s voice broke through her reverie.
“The last dance, everyone! Let us end this Valentine’s house party as we began - with joy and possibility.”
Nathaniel’s hand tightened on hers.
“Shall we, my love?”
Emma’s smile held all her heart.
“Always.”
And as they moved into the final dance, she knew that while the house party might be ending, their real story was only beginning.