Page 68 of Lady for a Season
The ballroom was vast, adorned with statues of gilded cherubs and multi-coloured feathers in vases, displayed as though they were flowers. The sight of hundreds of people in the glorious costumes with fantastical masks was dazzling and Maggie paused for a moment to take it all in. For once she felt free. No-one knew who she was, so she would not continuously feel watched. If she should chance to make an error, she would not be found out by thetonor reprimanded by the Duchess.
She could see the Duchess in her purple gown, so she drifted towards her through the crowd and stood to one side, where she could hear her speaking, but not be easily seen, given the mask which must be obscuring some of the Duchess’ view of the ballroom.
One woman after another came up to her, bowed their heads and made small talk, before inevitably enquiring after what they were seeking: Edward’s whereabouts. Maggie watched as the Countess of Bedford made her move.
“His Grace is here tonight, of course?”
“Of course.” The Duchess smiled. “You will know him by his clothing… let us simply say that it matches his hair.”
The countess gave a pleased smile and drifted away, though Maggie noted that her elegant glide turned faster as she made her way to her daughter and whispered in her ear. The daughter, sporting a sparkling pink gown that barely allowed her to get through doors, along with a glittering sequined facemask, nodded eagerly and began looking about her. Maggie silently cursed the Duchess. If she was going to do this to all the suitor-seeking mamas of theton, what was the point of a masquerade?
Sure enough, within half an hour, it was all too obvious that the young ladies of thetonhad found Edward. Wherever hewent in the ballroom, a stream of women followed him. If he asked someone to dance, the rest of them waited on the edges or sulkily accepted second-best partners. As each dance finished, they arranged themselves as close as possible to him, preening and coquetting.
Maggie did not have much time to observe Edward, however, for her hand was sought for each dance. Reluctantly, she acquiesced to one after another, men dressed in elaborate costumes in every possible colour of velvet and silk, for once lavish peacocks instead of severely elegant Beau Brummells.
A man in blue silk held her hand a little tighter than the rest. “You will not mind if I disclose myself?” he asked, as their dance came to its midway point.
Maggie smiled. “Lord Frampton,” she said, for the Earl’s voice was familiar to her and she had found him a kindly person.
He returned the smile. “I am glad to find you know me, even at a masquerade,” he said. “I knew you at once, even across the room. It is the way you carry yourself, graceful but without false elegance. Some of the young ladies of thetonthink very highly of themselves and it can seem more like arrogance. I would always rather have grace combined with friendliness.”
“You have been a good friend this season,” murmured Maggie. “I have been grateful for your consideration.”
His hand tightened on hers. “I am glad to hear you say it,” he said, his voice warm. “I have enjoyed your company this season more than I expected. I am not so much a social butterfly myself. Finding a lady who is so at home within company is a relief to me, I confess.”
Maggie stifled a laugh. The idea that she was being complimented on her skills in society by a man born and bred to thetonwas absurd. “You are kind to say so,” she said. “Though my preference is for quieter company and for the countryside.”
“Really?” he asked eagerly. “It is how I feel myself. I am – I am glad to hear you say so.”
Maggie turned her head to search for Edward. She could not see him however, so she looked back at the Earl and smiled as the dance finished, sweeping a curtsey that would have made even the Duchess proud.
There was a smattering of applause as the dance ended and a brief interlude, during which various couples wandered away to refresh themselves with ices or drinks and new couples formed around the floor, ready for the next dance.
“I hope to see you at the Gillinghams’ dinner?” Lord Frampton said, still at her side.
She nodded, unsure of whether they were in fact attending, although since they attended everything, it was a fair assumption. Edward had vanished from the room. Maggie cast her mind back to which lady she had last seen him with and decided it had been someone with blue butterflies in her towering wig, but Maggie was unsure of her identity, and the lady, too, had disappeared from the room.
Might Edward have taken her somewhere private? Might he be about to propose? Had the Duchess impressed on him, out of Maggie’s hearing, that he should make up his mind tonight and choose one of the ladies she had so firmly pushed forward? A cold shiver rippled down Maggie’s body and her eyes prickled, as though she were about to cry. The idea that Edward might be married to a woman who might not care for him, who might not stand by him, protect him from the possibility of being locked away again...
The opening strains of music. A waltz was about to start. Maggie looked about her for a discreet way to leave the dance floor, having no desire to dance with anyone. She stepped backwards and bumped into someone standing just behind her.
“Please forgive me, I…”
“May I have this dance?”
For a moment she thought it was Edward but the man standing in front of her was dressed in a rose-coloured silk costume, with a full-faced mask and a brown wig.
“Of course,” she said, then immediately regretted her assent. She had been too well trained, she thought bitterly, trained to overcome how she was feeling, which was miserable and most certainly unwilling to dance a waltz with some strange man. But the instructions had all been firm on this, she could not refuse to dance unless she refused to dance all evening. And it was too late now. The man lifted his arms, and the waltz began, Maggie following his steps and movements with little interest, still looking about her for Edward.
“Are you looking for someone?”
“I – a person with whom I am acquainted…”
“His Grace the Duke of Buckingham? Every other lady seems to be searching for him.”
Maggie stared. The eyes behind the mask were very blue, beneath the dark brown wig a tendril of golden hair had escaped. “Edward? Edward!”
“Shh, you will give me away.”
