Chapter 5
Two Weeks Later
“It should be up, I think,” Nora Mason, the Dowager Duchess of Redgrave, said, holding Elara’s raven curls high atop her head. “But with her curls falling down on either side of her face. What do you think?”
“Oh, I agree,” Bridget replied readily, using her own hands to twist some of Caroline’s lighter curls. “And for you, darling, perhaps up with some braids?”
Elara and Caroline glanced at each other as they sat side by side at their vanities, knowing it was no use answering.
The two duchesses were in their own excited element and more in tune with one another’s opinions than with either of their own.
Not that either young lady minded much. It was the first ball the Mason family had hosted since well before Evander’s passing had been announced, and it felt good to see her mama excited about something after all this time.
“Pearls for Caroline?” Bridget asked Nora.
“Yes, yes, and rubies for Elara,” Nora answered excitedly. “No, wait! What color is her dress this evening?”
“Teal,” Elara dared to answer.
“Thank you, darling,” Nora answered, briefly patting Elara’s shoulder without breaking eye contact with Bridget.
“Diamonds, then. Though not many. Pins, no tiara. Thoughts?”
“Perfect,” Bridget replied. “I shall go tell Mona to fetch the jewels.”
“And I shall go tell Eva to fetch their dresses,” Nora answered. Without looking at the girls seated before them, the two older women took off, leaving Elara and Caroline, in their robes and corsets, seated before the vanities, their hair wild and not yet done.
“Are they always going to be this excited about hosting a ball?” Caroline asked, turning toward Elara.
“Good heavens, I hope not,” Elara muttered, slumping over the arm of her chair nearest to Caroline. “Keeping up with their excitement is most tedious. The ball has not even started, and I am already exhausted! Is this how the whole Season is going to go?”
Caroline joined Elara in laughter, but her expression quickly turned to worry.
“Caroline, what is wrong?” Elara asked. “Are you upset that your stepmother and stepsister declined to come? I assure you, neither my mama nor Bridget takes offense.”
“No,” Caroline answered quickly, her eyes flicking toward the door the two duchesses had gone through.
“It is not that. It is just… they seem so excited for the ball. What if something goes wrong with your plan tonight with the Duke of Ashworth? Do you not think it will hurt them to know you disobeyed them?”
Elara took Caroline’s hand and gave it a comforting pat. She had told Caroline that she had snuck one additional invitation into the pile, addressed to Constantine Harcourt, Duke of Ashworth.
“They will only be hurt if this goes poorly, and I have decided that I shall not allow it to happen this time,” Elara stated with confidence.
Caroline gave her a dubious look.
“From what you told me, your last interaction with the Duke did not go well,” she replied. “What if he chooses not to attend?”
“True to your first point,” Elara admitted.
“But I was flummoxed before. I had not meant to be caught. Tonight is entirely different. He will be the one caught in my trap. As for whether he will attend, I believe he will. Though our interaction was brief, I believe that he has a curious nature. Even if he despises me now, I wager he still wants to know why I would send him an invitation despite what happened at his masquerade.”
Caroline still looked doubtful, but she smirked as she turned to her mirror and lightly rouged her cheeks. Before they could speak further, Bridget and Nora, along with the two maids, rushed back into the room, and the primping continued.
“What are you two whispering about?” Nora asked as the maids began attending to Elara and Caroline’s hair.
“Oh, nothing, dear aunt. We were merely discussing tonight’s ball,” Caroline replied, a little too anxiously.
“Yes,” Elara agreed quickly. “Caroline is most nervous about tonight’s dancing portion. She is worried no gentleman will ask her to dance.”
Caroline blushed deeper than her rouge and shot a glare at Elara as she threw out an elbow. Elara laughed as it bumped into hers, then gave her cousin a sweet, quick smile before her head was turned almost violently toward the mirror again so her hair could be tidied.
“Oh, I would not worry if I were you, Caroline,” Nora answered, patting Caroline’s other arm. “All the gentlemen will be queuing to dance with the both of you. But even if they do not, I would wager you already have at least one gentleman most willing to sign your dance card.”
“Who?” Caroline asked.
“The Duke of Ravenshaw,” Nora, Bridget, and Elara replied in unison.
The three of them burst into laughter as poor Caroline’s cheeks turned an additional three shades of red.
“Oh, darling, do not be embarrassed!” Bridget insisted, squeezing Caroline’s shoulders. “It is good for a young lady to have a suitor. Even if he is not the one you prefer, it shows the other gentlemen that you are worthy of their interest!”
Elara noticed her friend shift uncomfortably in her chair.
“I... I am not sure I want him to,” Caroline said in embarrassment.
“What do you mean? I like Damien well enough; he is a good friend to Evander and Adrian,” Elara said, shrugging. Even though she saw Damien as a brother, she knew that women considered him quite handsome.
“Well... It is not exactly that I do not find him handsome,” Caroline answered, her tone careful. “It is just… sometimes I catch him staring at me so intensely, as if he believes I am about to sprout wings and that he must catch me before I fly away.”
“Such a vivid imagination!” Nora exclaimed.
Elara gave Caroline a sympathetic smile as her poor cousin turned an even darker shade of red. Vivid imagination or not, she knew Caroline was right. She had seen Damien’s intense stare fixed on Caroline, and he looked like a beast ready to pounce and devour her.
Thankfully, their chatter drifted toward the decorations and effort put into hosting the evening’s party, and as Elara and Caroline were primped and prepped for the night by Mona and Eva, Elara was able to focus on her plan.
In what seemed like far too little time, a knock came at the door, and the announcement followed that the first guests had begun to arrive.
“So early!” Nora exclaimed, her hands flying to her hair, then face. “Do people not arrive fashionably late anymore?”
“It is a good thing, Nora,” Bridget said calmly as she captured Nora’s hands. “It means our peers are ready to welcome us back into society. And you look beautiful. We all look beautiful. Let us go downstairs and begin welcoming our guests, yes?”
Elara’s heart swelled with affection as she watched the interaction between her sister-in-law and her mother. For so long, it had been Elara alone who had to keep Nora calm. Now Bridget was here to help, and she did so with great grace and compassion.
“You are right, darling, of course,” Nora agreed, then took a deep, steadying breath.
“You do look beautiful, Mama,” Elara said, admiring her mother’s champagne- and lavender-colored chiffon gown, the matching feathers in her updo, and the elbow-length white satin gloves.
“Thank you, my darling,” Nora replied, her tone emphatic as she tenderly tapped the underside of Elara’s chin. “As do you. Are you and Caroline coming down with us?”
“We shall be there shortly,” Elara promised.
Elara waited until her mother, Bridget, and their maids had left the room before standing and taking a long look at herself.
The teal chiffon gown was lovely and modest, a stark contrast to the crimson silk she had worn the other night.
In fact, she thought, she looked like an entirely different person.
“What are you thinking, cousin?” Caroline asked, her tone gentle. “You look… well, I do not know how to describe it.”
Elara smiled as she pulled herself from her thoughts and shook her head.
“Nothing,” Elara answered, taking Caroline’s hand. She swept her gaze over the soft wheat-colored chiffon dress, speckled with pearls, that her cousin wore, and beamed at her. “You look beautiful.”
Caroline beamed back at her.
“I must admit, I rather like this dress more than the one I wore to the Duke of Ashworth’s party. This one feels more like me,” Caroline replied.
“Funny, I was having a similar thought,” Elara mused.
“Do you think he will actually come?” Caroline asked. “The Duke of Ashworth, I mean.”
“I can only hope so,” Elara replied, offering her arm to Caroline. “There is only one way to find out. Shall we go downstairs?”
Arm in arm, they left the room and headed down the hallway toward the main staircase.
Elara’s brows flew up as she and Caroline reached the top of the stairs, surprised at how quickly their home had filled with members of the ton.
She took in the large bouquets of flowers, the vivid, multicolored silk tapestries that hung from the high ceiling, and the sound of lively music from the orchestra below, just to the left of the dance floor, where couples were already swirling.
It was, she realized, everything she had once hoped her first formal ball would be. Yet as she reached for the eagerness she once had for such an occasion, she found something else. Not a need for a ball, but a need for answers.
Elara walked into the crowd, exchanging smiles and pleasantries with the guests she knew while keeping her eyes open for any sign of the Duke.
For an hour, she did so, her heart leaping every time she saw a gentleman with dark brown or black hair, which, to her annoyance, was often.
Yet when he turned, it was never those particular green eyes of the Duke’s she found, but someone else’s.
She sighed in frustration at the latest sense of failed hope and plucked a glass of champagne from a passing tray.
As she did so, Adrian caught her eye and gave her a warning look, as if telling her not to have too much.
She bowed her head, not feeling up to fighting with him, and made a show of taking a small sip from her glass.
Adrian gave her a grateful smile, winked, then turned around, quickly focusing on whatever he, Damien, and a few other gentlemen were discussing. The moment he turned away, though, Elara lifted the glass to her lips and downed the remaining contents in one swallow.
“Are you certain it is a good idea to drink spirits so quickly?” a deep, familiar voice said behind her, sending a shiver up her spine. “I would rather think you would want to keep your wits about you, since you so obviously fooled your brother into sending me an invitation.”