Chapter Five
Nathaniel returned to his townhouse and entered the drawing room. To his surprise, Charles, Archibald, and Richard waited for him.
“Well, Nathaniel, how did the evening fare? Did you win at whist?” Charles, dapper as always with a twinkle in his eye, was the first to speak.
Nathaniel couldn’t help but give him a devilish smile as he went to the cellarette and poured himself a brandy. He glanced at the others who had started enjoying his brandy without him. “Gentlemen, the evening exceeded all expectations. We had quite the game of whist.”
Archibald raised an eyebrow. “Go on.”
Nathaniel joined them, sinking into his leather armchair. “We played against a formidable pair, Reginald and Isla. But we played without any problems.”
Richard, with an impish grin, leaned forward, clearly intrigued. “Who cleaned out who?”
“Whom, Richard. Who cleaned out whom?” Nathaniel chuckled as he corrected his cousin. “We held our own. But it wasn’t just about the winnings. It was the challenge, the strategy. We worked together seamlessly.”
Charles leaned back, sipping his brandy. “And what of the social challenge? Did it go as planned?”
Nathaniel hesitated for a moment, his gaze wandering to the window. The night was young. Should he have asked Louise to join him at dinner? To continue discussing the challenge? His mind went to thinking of ways, roguish ways, Louise would have had to pay her portion of the wager if they had lost? He bit the inside of his lip in an attempt not to smile.
“The challenge, Nathaniel. How did it play out?” Charles demanded.
“Even though we won, our opponents thoroughly enjoyed themselves. The connection with them was made and not just for a rematch to win back what they lost. My colleague was invited to the Ladies Only evening. I think we made great strides. We are more than ready to move forward. While this challenge included a select few people, the next will have considerably more, a roomful in fact.”
Richard grinned mischievously. “But what about your mysterious partner? Did she live up to your expectations?”
Nathaniel’s expression shifted subtly, fascination mixed with restraint. “Ah, yes. She played remarkably well, she is both observant and insightful. A valuable addition to our team.”
Archibald, ever perceptive, leaned closer. “Richard caught sight of your mysterious partner and informed us that you seemed rather taken by her. Is there more to this than you’re letting on?”
Nathaniel sighed, realizing his friends weren’t going to let him get away without telling them more about Louise. “She is a remarkable woman, but let’s not get ahead of ourselves. And before you ask, I have no idea who she is, although there is something about her that is familiar.” He put down his empty glass and gave up thinking about it. “The challenge is the priority.”
Charles laughed heartily. “Nathaniel, you can’t fool us. Our friendship has been years in the making. There’s something more here.”
Nathaniel’s voice lowered, his gaze distant. “Perhaps, my friends, perhaps. But for now, let’s enjoy our brandy and revel in the success of the first challenge. There are three more to come.”
“You say that because you want our money.” Archibald laughed.
The four friends clinked their glasses together. Their laughter filled the room while Nathaniel kept his secrets tucked away for another day.
As the evening progressed and he had more brandy, he thought of another evening four years ago. He glanced around the room and nodded at the portrait of his grandfather on the wall.
Lady Elinor Willoughby, the daughter of the wealthy and ambitious Lord Billington. They had been engaged to be married. The perfect match, everyone said, combining the prestigious Stirling title with Billington’s substantial wealth and influence.
An enchanting woman. Elinor had long, wavy brown hair that framed her face like a sweet picture. She had a kind smile that almost went up to her dark brown eyes. Refined and socially proper in every way, she never let you know what she was thinking, nor did she stray from social propriety.
Her father, Lord Billington, needed to close a business deal, and somehow, his Elinor was the linchpin. To close the deal, she had to marry Percival, Duke of Mountjoy, a man old enough to be her father.
“You shouldn’t have come. I said everything in my letter.”
“You mean your father’s letter. You didn’t write this.” Nathaniel shook the crushed message he held at her.
“I’m sorry, Nathaniel. The choice is not mine. Father is insistent.” She stood in front of him, her face void of any emotion, repeating the words her father scripted for her.
“We leave tomorrow. Lord Mountjoy said we are to live in his residence in Ludlow. There is nothing more to say. Please leave, Nathaniel. Father will not be pleased if you are here when he returns.”
He hadn’t needed to question her any further. It had been clear that the decision wasn’t hers and just as clear that she didn’t question her father’s authority.
Overnight, the entire Billington family had packed up and left for Ludlow, leaving him to face the embarrassment and gossip by himself.
His maternal grandfather said good riddance.
“Good riddance. I don’t like Billington or his daughter, and I like Duke Mountjoy even less.” Leaning in closer, his grandfather confided, “You are fortunate. Billington put all his money into a new merchant ship. He received word two days ago that it sank off the coast of Africa with its entire cargo. Not too many people know yet. But his investors will be beating down his door soon enough. He needs funds, and he is willing to strike a bargain with the devil to get the blunt he needs. You don’t need to be anywhere near that. This treating you like you are not good enough, with a lower social standing, is just a farce.”
His response was tinged with a mix of frustration and resignation. “Easy for you to say,” his words laden with the weight of his own struggles. “But I bear the brunt of their disdain every day. It’s as if they see me as beneath them, despite my title.”
After a deep cleansing breath, Nathaniel sent the memories away. It’s time he put these feelings to rest.
“What is tomorrow’s challenge?” His gaze shifted from Richard to the others who waited for his reply.
“Bessie is hosting a masked ball. She made it clear that she carefully chose the guests in order to bring together a diverse group of people who typically wouldn’t socialize. I agreed with her that her approach would be interesting for this project.”
“None of us received invitations.” Charles snorted at his disappointment.
Everyone except Richard, thank goodness.Nathaniel remained quiet as he savored the last of his brandy.
The following day,as dusk settled, Nathaniel walked briskly down Cleveland Row. The rhythmic click of his polished leather boots echoed against the worn cobbles and created a cadence that matched his anxious heartbeat. He pressed on until he found himself standing before the formidable entrance to the Lyon’s Den. The dim lamplight cast a glow on the lion-head-shaped polished brass knocker.
Nathaniel stood before the imposing door like an instrument with its string wound too tight, matching the tension in the air. Last night, the interaction between the four of them was amiable, and even under pressure, the evening went smoothly. Tonight, there would be a ballroom full of people from varying social circles. A different dynamic, indeed.
He paused for a moment to gather his composure, then grasped the lion’s head, its weight substantial in his hand. He took a deep breath, raised the knocker, and let it fall with a resounding thud that echoed through the still street.
His heart raced as he put on his mask and waited. Throughout the day, his mind had drifted back to last evening’s challenge. Well, not drifted, he silently corrected himself with a stifled grin. He tried to dwell on the game, but his thoughts kept wandering to Louise and her masterful execution of the card game’s final trick.
She wasn’t the only one who kept an eye on the cards played. He had intentionally led with the wrong suit, solely to observe. No, to provide the conditions for an eruption. Louise remained a reserved player, revealing nothing about her hand or strategy, at least not that he saw. Reginald and Isla, however, did all but dance on the table.
Louise deftly played her cards and made subtle adjustments during the game so that when he played the wrong card, she could successfully play the winning card. He had been concerned. To Louise, whist was a friendly, family card game. According to Bessie, Reginald and Isla were more cutthroat in their gambling.
Louise’s straightforwardness and eagerness to engage in the challenge fascinated him. During the day, he kept trying to think of a way to compensate her for her assistance. Before he could find a solution or let his imagination run wild about the evening ahead, the door opened.
“Good evening, Theseus.” The escort at the men’s entrance, who made certain only invited quests entered, bowed respectfully.
“Good evening, my lord. Mrs. Dove-Lyon converted the gaming floor into a ballroom for this evening.”
Last night’s challenge had excited him, but if he were honest, it did not do so as much as having Louise’s company for the evening. In the midst of a world often governed by pretense, Nathaniel found her genuine nature a breath of fresh air. Now, he confidently entered the ballroom, eager for tonight’s challenge to begin.
He glanced around the room. The word enchanting came to mind as crystal chandeliers shimmered from the countless candles and baskets of fresh flowers were set on tables around the room. Gone was the aroma of smoke and alcohol, and in its place the scent of flowers and lavender.
Bessie invited about fifty people to tonight’s ball. According to her, the guests represented noble and royal members of the ton, tradespeople and household workers, and even the clergy, even some surprises. It was going to be an interesting evening.
He spotted Louise across the room, surrounded by several people, including Reginald and Isla. A gown of silver cascaded around her. She didn’t wear any gems other than a bejeweled and feathered mask.
When he caught Louise’s eye, she gave him a nod, a silent invitation to join her. He went directly to her side.
“Good evening, Louise.” He moved in close to her.
“Good evening, Nathaniel.”
“Ladies and gentlemen.” Bessie stood in the middle of the floor, waiting for everyone’s attention. “You have been invited here tonight to drink my champagne and eat my food.”
A rumble of laughter rolled through the room. Many of the guests arrived early and began to partake of Bessie’s generosity hours ago.
“Now, you must all pay the price. I intend to test your dancing ability by having you perform the quadrille. Everyone knows this dance no matter what your station in life. The steps are intricate and require both skill and precision. Your challenge is not only to dance elegantly but also to execute the dance flawlessly.”
Hushed whispers ran through the room. The smile on Bessie’s lips hinted this would be a difficult challenge.
“Surely, you didn’t think you were attending a simple masquerade.”
Louise watched as the excitement grew on the faces of some guests while others looked absolutely horrified.
“I would like to introduce you to our judges.” Bessie waited for the room to quiet. “Madame Eugénie Dubois is a renowned dance instructor who taught the art of dance to London’s elite. Some of you have taken lessons from her at one time or another. The others will sample what the elite had to tolerate.” Soft laughter popped up in spots around the room. “Her expertise in choreography and mastery of the quadrille makes her an excellent judge.”
“The distinguished Sir Royce Montague, recognized for his impeccable knowledge of the finer points of our social events, is our second judge. He will be evaluating your dancing etiquette.
“Ah, Lady Lucinda Thorne is here to represent Almack’s. She has a passion for dance and is celebrated for hosting elegant soirées and the ability to recognize the grace and precision required in dance.
“Our final judge is Lord William Stanhope. He is a connoisseur of the arts and devoted to dancing. You cannot get him off the dance floor. His discerning eye and appreciation for the nuances of the quadrille make him a valuable judge.
“There are five categories in which you will be judged: 1. skill and precision 2. grace and elegance 3. formations and patterns 4. expression and emotion and 5. the overall impression you leave. Each category is worth ten points. The judges have the final word. They will not accept any bribes, and neither will I. Now, take your places, everyone.”
“What will I win?”
Bessie turned to the source of the voice. “Richard? I thought that was you. You will find it very difficult to win. You do not have a partner.”
The ballroom echoed with laughter.
“Bessie.” Richard waited for the laughter to subside. “I thought the lone invitation inferred you wanted to dance with me?”
“St. John, a gentleman never exposes his lady’s flaw,” someone called out from the crowd.
“Please, must I remind you? Only first names, please.” Bessie finished admonishing the guest and turned her attention to St. John. “Your invitation should have been for two. Furthermore, if I wanted to dance with you, I would come out and tell you and not leave it up to you to discern. Is that what you’ve been doing, my dear boy, leaving the decisions up to the woman? How progressive of you.”
The first time, the room echoed with laughter like a gentle breeze, but now it roared like a playful thunderstorm.
“Perhaps one dance,” Bessie relented.
“I am honored,” Richard said and executed a deep bow before Bessie turned back to her other guests, shaking her head.
“The victor of the contest will win the respect of our esteemed judges. But this competition is not about winning. This contest is more about not losing.”
The room became very quiet.
“Those who do not win will have a special test.” Whispers swept through the room. “I see I have everyone’s attention. “Those couples will have another chance to impress us with their dancing abilities. This time, they will change partners. After all, the ones they came with did not do so well,” she continued on over another bout of laughter, “so to make it more interesting…”
People shushed the others, who continued to laugh while Bessie waited.
“They will dance the quadrille blindfolded. You will need to depend on one another for assistance. How you manage that is as important as the dance. So, my dear friends, if I were you, I would make every effort to do the best you can. Now, take your places to begin.”
How clever of Bessie, Nathaniel mused. The masked ball, with its already shrouded identities, not only provides an opportunity for interaction and rapport but goes one step further, adding an element of mystery and excitement. Dancing a quadrille while blindfolded is a delightful twist, encouraging guests to let go of inhibitions, embrace the unexpected and the need for connection.
Nathaniel extended his hand to Louise. “May I have this dance?”