11. The Masquerade Ball
CHAPTER 11
THE MASQUERADE BALL
A few minutes later, at the DeSoto House Hotel
The faint music from a five-piece chamber orchestra reached Ella Mae’s ears before she and her parents topped the stairs leading to the fourth floor of the hotel. Inside the ballroom, the fully-lit chandeliers were reflected in the silvered glass panels between the room’s velvet-draped windows, enhancing a golden glow that warmed the complexions of everyone who stepped inside. Murmurs and titters of laughter could be heard as guests arrived dressed in a variety of costumes and disguises.
That is, until he arrived.
A collective gasp sounded when a black-clad man entered the ballroom, his menacing appearance made more so in that his face was almost entirely covered in black. The mantle he wore, opened at the front, revealed a shirt, cravat, waistcoat, trousers, and boots—all in black. Even the hair showing beneath his black top hat was black. In one black-gloved hand, he carried a riding crop.
“Who is he?” Emma whispered, her arm on her husband’s as they took a turn about the room. On the other side of her, Ella Mae said, “ That is Mr. O’Connor.”
Robert chuckled softly as his wife inhaled sharply. “No. It cannot be,” Emma said in awe. “Why, is he wearing a diamond in his cravat?”
“I rather doubt that,” Ella Mae whispered. “It’s probably paste.”
For a moment it was so quiet, Ella Mae was sure she could hear a pin drop on the varnished wood floor. That was the moment General chose to peek out from beneath her skirt to let out a mournful yowl .
A woman off to the left, dressed a gaudy saloon girl costume, gasped loudly. “The ghost!’ she cried out in fright.
As if on cue, General loudly meowed , which had those nearest to Ella Mae giggling as they pointed to the calico.
“General!” Emma scolded. The cat immediately disappeared beneath Ella Mae’s gown.
“Fear not, my angel, I will see to the brigand,” John said in a deep voice, rushing to stand before Ella Mae. He bowed deeply, holding onto one edge of his mantle with his free hand as he did so. The dramatic bow had several people clapping and a few laughing before another round of costumed ball-goers arrived to take the attention from him and Ella Mae.
“Clever costume, Mr. O’Connor,” Robert remarked. “And it would be rather fashionable if you were to replace the shirt with a white one. Why, you would be set for an evening in St. Louis.”
“Or a wedding,” Ella Mae murmured, her eyes rounding when she realized she had said the words out loud.
“Thank you, Mr. Montgomery, Miss Montgomery. I’ll be sure to remember that,” John replied.
That was the moment the orchestra began the dancing music. Several couples, including her parents, moved to the center of the room, the ladies curtsying to the gentlemen’s bows before beginning their set.
“You look like an angel,” John murmured, leaning close so his words wouldn’t be heard by anyone but Ella Mae.
She inhaled softly and turned to discover he was standing rather close to her. “And you are perfection as a highwayman,” she enthused. “Not that I’ve ever actually seen one. However did you put together your costume so quickly?”
John lifted a shoulder. “Had some help from a clerk at Mr. Watkins’’ shop,” he replied, referring to the ready-made menswear store. “Are you enjoying your come-out?”
She regarded him with a smirk. “I would if I had someone with whom to dance.”
“Will you dance with me?”
“Of course,” she replied, reaching up to place her hand on his shoulder as he took her other hand in his. They stutter-stepped a few times before they were in sync with one another, which made conversation difficult.
“I understand condolences are in order,” she said, once they had merged into the circle of other dancers. “It’s a shame about Mr. Perkins. Father told us about him during dinner this evening.”
“Thank you,” he replied. “I’ve known him… knew him a long time, and he always said I would have a position should I need one. He kept his word,” he explained.
Ella Mae seemed to hesitate before she asked, “Where did you go?”
He blinked, his visible brow furrowing so it nearly disappeared behind his mask. “What do you mean?”
“After we finished school. Why didn’t I see you about town?”
Hesitating a moment, and not only because he had to steer them around another couple, John seemed to think on his response before he finally said, “I went off to war.”
Ella Mae’s eyes widened. “You fought for the Union?”
He nodded. “I did. Until my eye sustained a hit from a misfire, and then I was discharged. Honorably, at least, but…” He shrugged. “Not how I expected it to go.”
Wincing, Ella Mae had to resist the urge to ask what he had expected. She instead asked, “What will you do now that Mr. Perkins has died? Will the new owner keep you on at the stable, do you suppose?”
Grinning behind the bandana, John said, “I had a long talk with him yesterday, in fact. I not only get to keep my position, he has put me in charge of the entire operation.”
“Really?” Her eyes rounded with joy. “Why, that’s wonderful. I mean…” She paused when the dance required a more intricate move. “That is, if you think it is.”
He chuckled. “I do, actually. I am the new owner, Ella Mae. The stable, the horses, the equipage, the property… I have the deed to all of it,” he stated, apparently unaware he had used her given name.
“ You’re the new owner of Galena Stable?” she asked in awe, her query sounding at exactly the same moment the music ended. The dancers nearest them turned with looks of curiosity and surprise, and General once again took the opportunity to make an appearance and yowl from the edge of her hem.
“The ghost is back,” an older gentleman called out from where he was seated with three others, engaged in a game of cards. His comment was met with a round of laughter and gasps from those who hadn’t been in the ballroom before the dance had started.
Grinning, John said, “That reminds me,” as he led her to the refreshment table. “Sergeant was riding on the back of the phaeton the night I drove you home,” he said. “I didn’t discover him until I was on my way up to my rooms above the stable.” He offered her a glass of punch.
“Oh, I’m so sorry,” she replied, sure her face was bright red, and not from the exertions of the dance.
“No need to be. I feared you would miss him, though.”
“Hardly,” she replied, arching a blonde brow.
A loud, low howl sounded from the other side of the ballroom. The music hadn’t yet started for the next dance, so conversations suddenly ceased. Sure General was to blame, Ella Mae glanced down to discover him peeking out from beneath her gown. “That wasn’t you,” she said, her gaze darting about to see others in the ballroom had grown nervous. When the howling happened again, this time longer and louder, an older woman screamed.
“That was the real ghost!” someone else called out.
Several women rushed for the doors while some of the gentlemen pulled their wives closer to their sides.
That’s when Ella Mae saw him.
Admiral.
The cat’s head was poking out from beneath her mother’s costume, the orange fur a stark contrast to the blue skirts of her Georgian-era gown.
“Admiral,” she scolded, loud enough to be heard across the room.
The orchestra chose that moment to begin the next dance set, the music drowning out some of the sounds of pandemonium as a few were still trying to escape the ballroom while others were laughing at the cat.
“This is positively mortifying,” Ella Mae complained. “On the night of my come-out, no less.”
“Paawsitively?” John repeated, his visible eye conveying his humor at hearing her comment.
She scoffed. “There was no pun intended, I assure you. He’s become such a pest. All of them have become pests.” Across the room, her father had scooped up Admiral and was headed for the door. Apparently deciding he didn’t wish to be bodily removed from the ballroom, General darted out from beneath her skirt and followed her father.
Next to her, John chuckled. “If it’s any consolation, they have certainly provided a good deal of entertainment this evening.”
“It’s not,” she mewled. After a moment, a grin lifted the edge of her lips. “They have managed to make it less crowded in here, though,” she added, arching a brow.
“More room for us to dance,” he said, holding out his hand.
She glanced up at him. “This will be our second. You’re only allowed two,” she reminded him.
He seemed entirely too pleased with himself. “Not according to your father.”
Her eyes widened in delight. “Why John O’Connor, whatever did you say to him?”
John was already pulling her into his arms for the dance. “That would be between him and me,” he responded.
Stunned to learn she had been a topic of conversation, Ella Mae blushed. “Whatever did he say to you?” she pressed.
Several steps into the dance, John leaned down and whispered in her ear. “I’ll tell you later.”
Scoffing at hearing his reply, Ella Mae gave him a quelling glance. “You had better,” she said.
For the next few sets, she danced with others, including her father. He left her standing in front of John, though, and they spent most of the next dance simply staring at one another.
That is, until John said, “Marry me, Ella Mae.”