Chapter Three
To attend a masquerade, my dear, is to court the perilous allure of shadows and whispers. A young lady, once veiled in such intrigue, may find the delicate threads of virtue unraveling before society’s watchful gaze. Scandal, like a moth to flame, is ever drawn to the masked.
~Handbook on Matters of Seduction and the Heart.
Charlene shut the book and set it neatly on the low stand beside the raised flower bed.
The crisp flick of its gilded edges breaking the silence drew the attention of two pairs of curious eyes.
One pair, belonging to Maddie, was wide and a touch aghast. The other shone with a poorly concealed smirk from the recently engaged Ashley who would soon be the Countess of Linsey.
“What dreary nonsense,” Charlene declared, casting a glance toward her friends. “Does virtue truly abandon a woman the moment she dons a mask? Or is this merely the invention of someone who never once experienced an afternoon worth writing about?”
“It is not dreary,” Maddie said in her usual tone of soft reproach, crossing her hands tightly in her lap. She sat with her back straight enough to make her governess proud, an untouched teacup balanced delicately near her elbow. “It is a warning.”
Ashley laughed, leaning back against the settee’s arm with the languid grace only the very content or completely shameless possessed.
“Or perhaps an invitation to court romance? But for whom, one wonders? The scandal-seekers who haunt balls like carrion crows must be quite pleased with such advice. It frees up all the proper young misses to stay home and read dreary little books, exactly like this one.”
Maddie’s brow furrowed, and she looked as though she might protest. Charlene, however, grinned. “If this is what propriety requires of us, then I fear I am lost.”
“You fear it now?” Maddie said swiftly, wearing such an expression of heartfelt exasperation that Charlene stifled a laugh.
“Completely irredeemable, I’m afraid.” Charlene stood, brushing invisible creases from the folds of her breeches which she used for gardening. “And that is precisely why I will be attending the Bennett ball this Saturday evening.”
“Unmasked, of course,” Maddie said firmly, though her fingers twitched nervously closer to the edge of her teacup.
“Masked, naturally,” Charlene replied with mock innocence. “If one is to be irredeemable, one ought to enjoy it thoroughly.”
“Charlene!”
“It’s not as though I’m planning to abscond with a scandalous rake,” Charlene said quickly. “Which I think we can all agree would be the far greater sin.” She turned to Ashley then, her curiosity piqued. “Unless, of course, that might be required for true romance?”
Ashley’s laugh, rich and full of conspiratorial delight, filled the room.
“Romance,” she repeated, holding Maddie’s horrified gaze with amusement.
“My dear Charlene, romance requires risk. And if there is no rake to abscond with, you might still manage to shock someone enough that they think you did. Which is nearly as good.”
Maddie buried her face in her hands, muttering something about the fate of her friends being entirely out of her hands.
Charlene, however, felt the smallest thrill run through her as she smiled at Ashley in quiet agreement.
Masks, after all, were designed to hide what one most feared revealing.
What, then, could be more alluring—for the terrified and the fearless alike?
“I want to find a man.” A good one. An orchid, not just a fern. Or someone who can be both.
Crickets met Lady Charlene Fielding’s declaration, and she chuckled, glancing over her shoulder at friends, Ashley and Maddie, who both sat at the central table beneath a canopy of vines that Charlene had strung with lanterns.
On the aged wooden surface lay glossy sketches on fine ivory plates—Ashley’s wedding dress designs.
So, what if she wanted a man? It wasn’t an uncommon request.
Why was her statement that shocking?
The scent of orange blossoms blended with the earthy humidity that clung to Charlene’s cheeks.
An array of orchids settled in her hands with the hope to bloom in time for Ashley’s wedding.
Outside the grand panels of glass, late summer leaves rustled violently in the gusting wind, their golden hues whispering the arrival of autumn.
Inside was a sanctuary of plants, the air alive with the perfume of orchids in full bloom.
Charlene knelt by a workbench in her worn breeches and carefully worked to pot a type of orchid—a rare Cymbidium she had nurtured for months.
“So, you want to find a man?” Maddie slowly. “May I ask, what for?”
Ashley burst out laughing.
Charlene scoffed. “What could it be possible for? To fall in love with!”
“You don’t just find a man to fall in love with, Char,” Ashley said. “Love finds you.”
“Please,” Charlene said. “Did you find your man first and then fell in love?”
“That’s a different story,” Ashley said. “But I’m pleased as punch that you are ready to find a man. Though, I shall advise to steal a kiss from him first when you do. Kisses say a lot about a man.”
“What sort of advice is that?” Maddie said with a frown. “Don’t listen to her unless you want to stir up a scandal instead of a betrothal. Those two rarely mix, Char.”
Honestly, at this point, Charlene didn’t mind as much. She stood after potting the orchid, dusting off her hands on her pants.
“You’ll ruin your hands and nails if you keep doing that alone,” Ashley remarked. “How will you seduce a man then?”
Charlene glanced at her smudged fingers and smiled wryly. “With gloves.”
Maddie chuckled. “Tell her, Char. Besides, a little dirt has never ruined anyone. Just look at you, Ashley.”
“Are you calling my courtship dirty?” Ashley scoffed.
“Well, your mind sure had some unchaste thoughts, didn’t it?” Maddie put her hands on her hips and arched a brow.
Charlene grinned. “Oh, many unchaste thoughts in there.”
Ashley huffed but didn’t argue, instead smoothing one of the plates reverently. “Well, if you find a man soon, perhaps you shall have the joy to pick out your wedding dress with me.”
“No, thank you.”
“You know that is not her style,” Maddie pointed out. “She’d probably wed in breeches.”
Ashley’s wide eyes flashed to Charlene. “Even you would have to admit this fabric design is remarkable. I can almost feel the silk just looking at it.”
Charlene wiped her hands on a nearby rag and wandered toward the table, pulled by Ashley’s enthusiasm despite her indifference to such fripperies.
The fashion plates were stunning.
Gold thread knitted through the delicate pattern like rivers of light.
Her fingers itched to trace the edges, but to her dismay, sudden emotion prickled all over her body.
She couldn’t place them all at once, but she detected a slice of envy.
Charlene swallowed hard, suppressing the incomprehensible sting behind her ribcage.
“Be happy for me, Char. Your turn is bound to come soon. You might be surprised,” Ashley teased, her melodic laughter lightening the moment. “But don’t frown. You’ll alarm the orchids.”
I am happy for you. But I want to be happy, too.
“Don’t mock me,” Charlene replied with a soft smile, even though Ashley’s besotted look only clarified the slight ache.
Her friend couldn’t be a more radiant bride for the Earl of Linsey.
“You’ve chosen well.” Now, all Charlene had to do was do the same.
“I’ve no doubt you’ll dazzle everyone at the altar. ”
“It will be a sight, indeed,” Maddie murmured with a smile. “I’d imagine the earl will do very much the same.”
“Do you mean dazzle? Linsey is far too manly for that,” Charlene said with a light sniff as she poured herself a cup of tea.
Ashley poured herself more tea, too. “Speaking of matrimony and matters far-flung, have you read Sera’s latest letter? She will be put out when she discovers she missed your wild adventure of finding a man.”
“What wild adventure?” Charlene muttered. “I’ve merely stated an intention.”
“But she will still miss you putting it into action,” Maddie said with a wink.
Stars, Charlene hadn’t even thought as far, yet. She only knew that she wanted what her two friends had found.
Maddie grinned and picked up a letter—probably the sixth of Sera’s updates—the only friend absent because she was on honeymoon with her new husband, a prince from Transylvania. “They are in Vienna now.”
Ashley made an encouraging motion. “What else does she say? She always has the best stories. Perhaps she has some strategies for Char to find her man.”
All at once, Charlene wanted to snatch it up and burn it or possibly devour it. She should never have announced her intention so boldly to her friends! She wouldn’t be surprised if they all but paraded a gaggle of men through her family’s townhouse later today.
But she knew there would be no strategies, since she’d already read the letter.
Ashley was right.
Sera had the best stories. They came alive on the page. Her descriptions spilled onto the paper in vivid detail. A few weeks ago, she’d written about the lavender fields in southern France, then the fresh air in the Alps, and now this:
“The sweeping countryside of Austria had left her breathless,” she wrote, soon leading her to Transylvania’s Bran Castle in the Carpathian Mountains, where her prince’s parents welcomed her as a daughter.
But more than that, Charlene could feel the love she had for Prince Alex with each and every word. How could she find such feelings before the end of autumn—before Ashley’s romantic winter wedding?
“I’m told it once belonged to a great prince whose deeds remain the stuff of legend,” Sera had written. “Though something about its austere silhouette on the craggy hills makes me certain such a place could house equal measures of romance and adventure. I can just imagine Alex as a boy here.”
Romance and adventure.