Chapter 2
Stage One: Initial Attraction
Mechanism: Visual Symmetry Bias
Aim: To prove that “love at first sight” is merely the brain’s preference for balanced features, familiar proportions, or one’s predetermined “type.”
Method:
Record first impressions of Subject.
Compare reaction intensity to facial symmetry ratios.
Determine whether attraction decreases when symmetry is obscured.
Expected Conclusion: Attraction is aesthetic recognition, and most definitely not emotional depth.
“I hate these events. I hate how your mother expects me to attend these even when she is not here.” He fumbled with the mask that covered his eyes.
Other than the ill-fitting mask, her father was dressed no differently than if he were at any other ball. She could not see how anyone would be interested in him, given his dull personality.
“Being unmarried, it would not be proper for me to show up alone, Father.” Theodora’s voice was quiet. She had yet to regain her confidence around her father.
All pretenses she held with others dissolved when her father was around.
He harrumphed. “Based on what you’re wearing tonight, I don’t see a marriage happening any time soon for you.”
Theodora looked down at her cloak then around to the people milling just outside of Wutherton manor.
Other women were dressed in similar cloaks; however, theirs were bright colors and hung open to show off beautiful dresses of silk and tulle.
Hers was a sturdy cloak of chestnut brown that opened up to a common dress with a belt cinched at her waist that held a bag.
“I see nothing wrong with my costume.” Theodora smoothed the wrinkles from her frock. “It may not be as stunning as some of the others, but is that not the point of tonight? To have the ability to be someone else for the evening?” She knew he could not see her scowl and raised brow behind her mask.
Her father stared at her for a moment then offered her an arm. “And what exactly are you?”
Theodora inhaled and counted to three.
“An alchemist.”
The Viscount snorted. “All the beautiful dresses and themes you could have picked, and you decided to go with a medieval peasant.” Her father sighed and led her into the grand manor. “Go find your sister. She shall be your chaperone tonight.”
Theodora looked up at him and squinted her eyes. “Where will you be?”
“It is of no consequence to you.” He dipped his chin towards the dancing. “I see your sister on the dance floor. Go wait for her.”
He turned to go and she found herself reaching out, grabbing her father’s arm. His eyes landed on her hand then slowly raised to meet hers. Theodora was just as surprised at her action as he was.
“Theodora,” He warned.
“Please, Father. Do not…” Her words trailed off awkwardly.
Who was she to question the comings and goings of her father?
She shook her head and thought of her poor mother. “You said you would handle things.” She rushed out in a whisper. “Have you spoken to Mother about your…” She looked around to make sure no one was within earshot. “…indiscretion?”
The Viscount’s face reddened as he pulled his arm away from her. “Quiet, Theodora. Do not speak of such things here.”
Her eyes widened at his sudden movement. His eyes roamed the entryway nervously as he stepped away.
“This is not the time, nor the place, for such a conversation,” he said quietly. “I said I would handle the situation, and I will. Now, go.”
He did not wait for her response as he turned and left her standing at the entrance to the party. Theodora watched him disappear into the crowd.
Theodora hesitantly made her way into the masquerade ball and found her sister who was dressed in a long blue dress with yellow and orange lace across the bodice.
Over her eyes was a bright blue mask with different colored feathers jutting out from the side, bringing the light color of her eyes to life.
“And what are you supposed to be? Some kind of exotic bird?” Theodora asked dryly.
Evelina laughed and twirled. The back of her dress opened up to a multitude of colored panels that flared with the spin.
“It should be obvious that I am a peacock,” she said proudly.
“A peacock is male, A peahen is a female version of the same bird,” Theodora pointed out.
Evelina’s eyes washed over her as she nodded discreetly at her partner then stepped away from the dancing for a moment. “I’m assuming you are some mystical magician from days gone past?’
“Close. I am an alchemist.”
She brushed several strands of Theodora’s auburn hair off her shoulders. “Your hair fell from its pins.”
“I did not pay much attention to it; does it look all right?”
Evelina cupped her chin. “You are the most beautiful alchemist at the ball.”
Theodora blushed and looked out over the crowd. The gentleman who had been dancing with Evelina had already disappeared and Theo had to resist the urge to snort.
Men are so fickle. Her partner will surely find another lady in a few moments and return to the dance floor without issue.
Theodora considered sharing this observation with Evelina, but said something more genial instead, “Where is our hostess? I would like to congratulate her on her anniversary. Then I can properly start my experiment.”
Her sister nodded to the dessert table where Anna stood amongst several people. “She is entertaining her guests. Go on. I have a few gentlemen I would like to introduce you to afterwards.”
She grimaced at the latter notion and made her way through the crowd towards Anna.
She was several feet away when the crowd shifted, revealing a tall, muscular man with broad shoulders and donning, what appeared to be, a gladiator costume. His long scarlet cloak flowed effortlessly behind him as he raised a glass to his lips.
Theodora watched as he sipped on his wine.
A red droplet fell down his chin and landed on his chest. She gulped.
She had never seen someone so…distracting.
She blamed the costume for catching her eye, but his exposed arms and ropes of muscles proved her wrong.
He wore a gold mask that covered half of his face, revealing his piercing hazel eyes that were staring right at her.
Theodora’s steps halted abruptly as she noticed a slow grin emerge from behind his glass.
A slight buzzing began to thrum in her head and an odd sensation settled in the pit of her stomach.
She did not know the identity of the masked gladiator but knew instinctively that he was not the type of gentleman with whom she wished to conduct her experiment.
Theodora quickly changed directions before her arm was caught by an outstretched hand.
“Theodora!” Her sister reemerged with a man by her side.
She forced a smile as she looked at her sister.
“This is Duc d’Orlèans. He is visiting from Paris and is an old family friend of the Duke of Wutherton.”
Theodora dipped her head and greeted the gentlemen.
Duc d'Orléans’s eyes wandered down Theodora’s body making her shift uncomfortably.
He already did not interest her.
“I should like to know more about you. From your sister’s description, you seem like an interesting character.” The man’s beady eyes locked onto hers and her skin crawled.
“Why, I would not know where to start.” She laughed nervously.
Theodora turned to her sister for help, but she had disappeared into the crowd. As Theo scanned the masked faces, she noticed the gladiator staring at her from afar. Her pulse sped up and she felt her skin bloom with heat.
How interesting that a masked man has this effect on me.
The Duke coughed, bringing Theodora’s attention back to him.
“My apologies, Duc d'Orléans. I only just arrived and am still getting acclimated to all the costumes.” She waved her hand to the brightly colored women gossiping by the refreshments.
Duc d'Orléans eyes landed on Evelina.
His lips twitched. “Your sister is a very lovely woman.”
“She is quite lovely,” Theodora agreed. Her fingers absently played with the tassels of her satchel.
They both watched as Evelina laughed with Maria and the Duke of Winterleigh.
“I found it intriguing that beautiful Lady Maria ended up marrying the Duke of Winterleigh.” Duc d'Orléans nodded towards her friend and sneered.
Theodora looked back at him. He was not as tall as the Duke of Winterleigh, and from what she could see, he was not unpleasant to look at. Theodora leaned in to focus on his face, trying to imagine it without the mask.
“What are you doing?” he asked and took a step back from Theodora’s leaning body.
She quickly straightened. “I am trying to imagine the features of your face without a mask.”
Duc d'Orléans frowned. “Why?”
“It surely must be your own insecurity that troubles you as to why Her Grace married the Duke of Winterleigh. No one else in the ton has questioned them.” Theodora saw the corners of his mouth twitch in annoyance.
She smiled brightly at him before she continued, “Although, that is just my observation. You see, I am a scientist, and I take note of these interactions.”
Duc d'Orléans cleared his throat. “If you will excuse me, Miss Dowell, I seem to have found an old friend of mine in the crowd.”
He tried his best to smile charmingly before disappearing into the throng. Theodora silently cursed him in her thoughts. Her first encounter had already tired her out. She turned back towards the dance floor only to find her sister and Maria standing with another man.
It is going to be a long night.
* * *
“You are an odd young lady.”
Lord Danning said it as though he was announcing the weather.
Theodora forced a smile so tight her cheeks ached. Odd. Nearly the same comment had been made four gentlemen in the span of an hour. Apparently, discussing lunar cycles and galvanic currents between dances rendered a woman a curiosity best observed from a distance.
“How unfortunate for Society,” she replied coolly. “It must be exhausting for you all to encounter a thought unconnected to ribbons or waltzes.”
Lord Danning blinked, clearly unsure whether he had been insulted.