Chapter Four
Lady Fry certainly knew how to entertain her guests.
The ballroom at their mansion had been transformed into a dark forest where creatures lurked, and some sort of webbing was fixed to resemble that of a spider’s web.
Though well lit, the scheme had an air of an unsettling nature.
The guests had taken the invitation’s instructions seriously and arrived as witches or their faces painted white with dark circles around their eyes.
It was a fantastical sight to behold and Evelyn’s imagination considering the dreams she’d had of late ran wild.
How in the world would she find Mr. Shaw in this crowd?
In some cases guests might play on their names with their costumes, a Mr. Goulding might be all decked out in gold, or a Mrs. White might be decked out in that color.
Not this masque. She wouldn’t even know her own parents were it not for having known of their costumes.
Only the footmen truly knew of the identities of those present as they observed the invitations and made check marks on their note sheets. And Lady Fry of course, for she had approved every person’s costume ahead of time.
Evelyn smiled as she took it all in. The theme of the season was now firmly set, at least from Lady Fry’s perspective. Being such an influence on others, there was no doubt other balls now would carry some notes from this one.
A light tapping on her shoulder drew her attention to a man behind her.
She hadn’t had to seek out Mr. Shaw, for he’d saved her the effort.
He too was dressed in black and wore raven feathers on his mask.
It was as if he’d known about her gown in advance.
His eyes practically glowed from beneath his mask, so much so that she couldn’t take hers away from him.
“You have discovered me, sir.”
“I would know you anywhere,” he said in a low husky voice that sent shivers through her. “You have a graceful way when you move that is distinguishable from other ladies present.”
She wasn’t sure he’d noticed that level of detail about her. It was somewhat promising though if he could identify her simply by the way she moved; could that mean she passed through his thoughts as much as he did in hers?
“I am flattered, Mr. Shaw,” she said. “I believe you may have broken one of Lady Fry’s records for the most astute in guessing identities of guests. Have you identified everyone already?”
“I was only looking for you,” he said moving closer to her and speaking in that deliciously deep voice.
“Do you know the best advantage of a masque ball?” Her breath caught in her throat when he spoke in her ear with his hot breath on her neck.
“And what is that?” she whispered.
“No one will know if we sneak off into a corner and I claim the kiss I’ve been wanting for many days now.”
Shivers raced through her body. She already knew what his kisses tasted like and how they made her feel. Would she be able to regain her composure should he truly kiss her? Here? Now?
Her heart beat wildly in her chest as he guided her to a darkened corner out of sight of the other guests and away from the tables with food and drink. It made sense. Anyone was less likely to happen upon them if there was nothing there to find. Unless they too did not want to be found.
Mr. Shaw turned her toward him and lifted her chin with his fingers.
He softly brushed his lips across hers at first then cupping her face in his hands, pressed harder against her lips.
She parted hers, eager for the kiss to deepen, knowing she was behaving in a positively wicked manner, not caring if they were caught.
She needed to know if he kissed like that in real life.
Never mind the dreams or the fantasies; this was a real man before her, and she would know what was truth or fantasy.
And oh dear was she ever pleased. Mr. Shaw parted his lips and deepened the kiss, his tongue flicking out to seek hers.
When theirs met, a great jolt of pleasure surged through her.
She returned the kiss with all her longing and could not imagine that the real kiss was so very much better than her dream.
Mr. Shaw broke the kiss and grazed his teeth along her neck causing her to groan low in her throat.
“By God, Miss Bramston, if you keep doing that we will be guilty of more than a stolen kiss,” he whispered. Stealing one more passionate kiss, he said, “There, that will do me for tonight’s dreams and hopefully yours too.”
He took her hand and, looking all around, moved forward with her and on to the dancefloor. With perfect timing, they arrived just as a new waltz began. He moved their bodies with such precision, she was sure her feet barely touched the floor.
Once the dance ended, they moved to the food and libations table. She looked around to see if she could recognize anyone and finally spied her mother and father approaching.
Her mother guided her to just out of earshot of her father and Mr. Shaw.
“I wondered where you had gotten off to,” she said. “Fortunately for you, I distracted your father. You cannot sneak away like that again, Evelyn. You do understand that, do you not?”
“Yes, Mother, I was only talking with Mr. Shaw over there by the statue.” Evelyn pointed in the direction of a statue that was in the general vicinity of where they were. She hadn’t lied. They had exchanged words among other things.
“Very well, now come and let us speak together so that your father can formally allow Mr. Shaw to court you.”
“Really?”
“Yes, my dear. We have discussed his attentiveness toward you and by your own admission, you prefer him, so we think it is a good opportunity and he and you make a good match.”
When they returned to the men, her father linked arms with her and drew her toward the dance floor. Mr. Shaw did the same for her mother.
“He is a fine young man, Evelyn. Do you prefer him among all others?”
“I do, Father,” she said as he twirled her around. Not so commanding as Mr. Shaw, but certainly a well experienced dancer as well.
“Then in that case I consent to the engagement. I shall turn every other young man away and I will expect a wedding date by the end of the season. Unless you are both so very certain now.”
She hadn’t expected any of this. A courtship, maybe, but to jump straight to an engagement was swift by anyone’s standards. Surely society would gossip about them now. Not really understanding the negotiation process for an engagement, she hadn’t expected it to happen so fast.
“Did he ask for my hand?”
“He asked me if I approved of him. I asked his intentions and he said they were purely honorable.”
“What does that mean?” she asked him.
“It means that your young man knows he has my blessing. What he does from there is entirely up to him, but only if you consent. I’ll not see you in a miserable marriage because you and he fancy one another in the moment.”
Nervous knots crept into her belly as she looked for Mr. Shaw, but he was nowhere to be found. She was not so paranoid to think him capable of kissing her then chasing after the next skirt. Just as she was about to go look for him, he appeared before her.
She held her breath as he bent to one knee and reached for her hand.
“Miss Bramston, would you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”
“Yes, Mr. Shaw. I would do you that honor.”
With that he stood and kissed the back of her hand then neatly tucked it into his elbow.
No one could claim they’d seen their earlier tryst now considering such a public display of intent.
Somewhere behind her she swore she could hear weeping.
She shrugged it off and enjoyed the well wishes from her parents and others who now caught wind of the proposal including one Lady Fry who was particularly puffed up.
“There,” she said. “It was exactly as I had prophesized.”
The rest of the ball passed with a buzz of dancing and gaiety. Evelyn had truly never spent such a glorious night in her life. No one could have prepared her for the speed with which she found herself engaged.