Chapter Ten
J osephine alit from the carriage and waited for Cassandra to follow. Her nerves were on edge with worry. Who was to be her mystery man? She had asked herself this question what seemed like a thousand times in the past week but only Mrs. Dove-Lyon had the answer. Now she was waiting to enter the Vauxhall Pleasure Gardens. At most times, the gardens were open to all, but for tonight, they were closed for a private ball, with entrance only allowed to those with invitations.
A masquerade and at Vauxhall of all places. She was no innocent to the goings on at the place, especially at night, for it wasn’t called the Pleasure Gardens for nothing. True, it may have tamed down a bit over the past decade or so, but even she was well aware that illicit affairs still constantly occurred here. The Gardens had a reputation, much like Josephine, although she had kept herself hidden trying to let any gossip die relating to her. Who would remember her after all these years away from polite Society?
Cassandra came abreast of her. “It is a shame that they installed the bridge. I so enjoyed it back when we used to arrive by boat,” she proclaimed before linking arms with Josephine. “It made a much better entrance and the gentle rocking always seemed to calm me down before I was plunged into whatever intrigues would take my fancy at the Gardens.”
“I could use something to calm my nerves. I’m a wreck,” Josephine admitted.
“We’ll get you some punch or something stronger to drink if you prefer.”
“I’d best remain sober. I’m still not certain how I’m going to find some random gentleman with a stick pin of a butterfly in this crowd,” she complained as they handed their invitations to the person at the gate. Lanterns lit the pathway giving them a clear view ahead to where the music played.
“With your attire, whoever your gentleman may be will have no problem finding you, Josie. You are beautiful beyond compare,” Cassandra answered as they began moving forward.
She touched the lightweight golden mask attached to her head, checking to make sure it had not fallen out of place. But it was firmly fastened. Next, she smoothed a hand over the dark blue gown with a golden lace overlay. It had looked lovely when she had donned the garment provided by Mrs. Dove-Lyon, but she couldn’t help fussing over her appearance, her nerves getting the better of her. “Do you really think so?”
Cassandra pulled her over to the side to allow those behind them to pass. “You are exquisite and need to find within you the confident young woman you were always meant to be, Josephine. Let your past stay where it belongs. You won’t find your future looking over your shoulder but ahead of you.”
“No more Wicked Widow Club meetings?” she teased with a soft grin.
“Exactly… no more wicked anything, my dear.”
“I’m not sure what we’re doing at Vauxhall then. This place is notorious for new gossip come the morning paper.”
“Mrs. Dove-Lyon has her reasons,” Cassandra exclaimed while looking ahead at the crowd.
Josephine gave a heavy sigh, squared her shoulders, and lifted her chin. “Then let’s forge ahead to my future, Cassie, and let’s see who the Widow of Whitehall has chosen for me as a potential husband.”
Cassandra clapped her hands. “That’s the spirit! Remember you can be anyone you want to be tonight. You could be conversing with a duke one moment and a merchant the next. That’s the beauty of a masquerade!”
They continued their way until they were on the edge of the dance floor. Supper boxes lined the outer areas and most of them were currently occupied. Josephine’s eyes widened when she saw their friend Moriah conversing with Gyles, both of them holding their masks instead of wearing them. She gulped knowing her friend was now one of those once more within the good graces of the ton . Cassandra’s plan for Moriah had worked brilliantly. Josephine could only hope to be half as lucky.
Josephine took several moments to stare upon the man who had once owned her heart. If the way it was thumping inside her chest were any indication, her feelings for the man had gone nowhere. No matter how many years had passed, she still cared deeply for her brother’s best friend.
A gentleman came up to Moriah and placed his arm around her waist bringing her closer into his side. Josephine realized this must be her husband. From what Moriah had told her, Vincent St. John, Marquis of Saxton was an honorable man. If this were indeed the case, Josephine could understand why her friend had fallen in love with him. But while she supposed many would find the man handsome, Josephine had always favored the tawny-colored hair of Gyles. She watched him carefully as he twirled the cord of a dark blue mask in his fingers, the other hand smoothing over his black jacket and trousers with a dark blue and gold waistcoat. She wished her path lay in Gyles’s direction. She knew if they had stood next to one another that most would assume they were a couple since they would match. If only …
He laughed at something Moriah’s husband said before he turned his attention into the crowd. His gaze came to rest upon Josephine, and she swore his eyes widened. He placed his mask on his face, excused himself from the couple before him, and began making his way in her direction. Surely, he couldn’t have recognized her from the Lyon’s Den or even from their past, could he?
“He’s coming this way!” she said panicking.
“Who?” Cassandra asked as she continued looking into the crowd.
“The Marquis of Wickes, that’s who! I need to hide!”
Cassandra laughed. “You will do no such thing. Enjoy the moment until your gentleman finds you. I’m certain he’ll show up directly.”
Josephine had no time to comment for another gentleman came up to Cassandra to ask her to dance. She accepted and inwardly Josephine cursed. How could Cassie leave her here alone like this? But she didn’t have any more time to condemn her friend, not when Gyles came to stand before her and gave a courtly bow. Josephine dropped down into a curtsey.
“Good evening, my lady,” Gyles said as he looked her over. “May I say you are stunning tonight. I would have been able to pick you out of a crowd no matter what you were wearing.”
“Thank you, my lord. That is very kind of you to say, but I must ask that you move along for I am waiting for someone.” She turned her head from him to look into the crowd for whoever might be heading her way. There were only the couples who performed the patterns of a dance in sight, and since she didn’t see anyone else coming in her direction as yet, she turned back to stare into the brown eyes she would have recognized anywhere.
His lips twitched in suppressed amusement. “I believe you were waiting for me, mademoiselle ,” he murmured with an underlying tone of intimacy that caused Josephine’s skin to tingle in delight.
Her hand went to her throat. “Oh, I don’t think so, my lord. ”
A frown formed in the V of the mask between his eyes. “Mrs. Dove-Lyon didn’t tell you to expect me?”
Josephine gulped. “I… what?”
“Mrs. Dove-Lyon… I was told I would be accompanying a lady with a golden mask in the shape of a butterfly. Since I don’t see anyone else whose mask fits that description, the person I’m looking for can only be you.” Another smile crept up at the edges of his mouth.
“But I thought…” Her words, and wherever her thoughts might take her, trailed away when she tore her gaze from those hypnotic brown eyes and moved them downward to the pin nestled in his neatly tied white cravat. There could be no mistake this was the man Mrs. Dove-Lyon had chosen for her as she stared at the butterfly stickpin with sapphire blue eyes. “Good heavens…”
Her world reeled around her and for the first time in Josephine’s entire life, she fainted right into the arms of the man of her dreams.