Page 9 of Unmasking a Wicked Marquess
“Oh yes, I may have forgotten otherwise,” Juliet whispered, though she was the only one who heard this particular jest as she followed her sister into the carriage.
Sitting on the bench opposite Violet and Brandon, they waved at her parents through the window as the carriage set off and jolted from side to side, rolling calmly away down the road. This early in spring, the evenings were still not bright, so they left in darkness with a single lantern overhead, swinging from side to side with the flame casting orange streaks across their faces.
“Well, are you looking forward to the ball tonight, Juliet?” Brandon asked, clearly attempting to shift his focus away from his new wife.
“I can barely contain my excitement.” Her sarcasm seemed lost on Brandon, though Violet tutted at her.
“It shall be a good evening,” Violet insisted. “You shall see.”
“I wonder if you are right about that. You see, I have always wondered about the nature of a masked ball.” She untied the ribbon from the back of her head and lowered the mask in her grasp so she could take a better look at it. “I wonder what the true purpose of such an event really is.”
“How do you mean?” Violet asked though she was already leaning on her husband, their hands clasped tightly together, her attention slipping away.
“Well, to choose to hold a masquerade ball, you must have one of two intentions. Either you have some misdeed you wish to hide in plain sight by concealing your own identity, or you are quite bored, and you enjoy the idea of everyone else’s confusion and their own misdeeds done under a mask.”
“Ha! You are such a cynic, Juliet,” Violet said with a rich laugh. “Perhaps our hosts were simply hoping to have a good time.”
“Perhaps,” Juliet murmured, but she was not so convinced. As she tied her mask to the back of her head again, she saw a problem with the request her father had made of her. In his wish for her to dance with only reputable men, he had quite forgotten the fact every man there tonight would be wearing a mask.
Plainly, I shall have to ask any dance partner to remove his mask first if I am to please my father!
***
“Dear God, is this what classes as fun in the ton now?” Edward muttered in his sister’s ear as he escorted her into the masquerade ball. Everywhere he looked in the great hall, he was reminded of a performance. It was as if every guest wore a persona in their disguise and had not bothered to come as their true self.
Some ladies wore that much jewellery, it was impossible to see their true skin, and other ladies had such feathers thrust into their hair that their hair was impossible to discern. Even some of the gentlemen looked just as ridiculous to Edward’s mind, with dandies bearing ostentatiously laced cuffs and collars and some even wearing the thick white wigs that had been considered fashionable in the last century.
Edward’s mouth hung open in wonder as he and Jane walked further into the ballroom. The more he looked, the more he observed people’s behaviour.
Gentlemen stood rigidly as if pokers had been shoved up their backs, and ladies fluttered fans in most particular places, perhaps making specific gestures to mean certain things, as per the language of fans, and other times just trying to draw their suitors’ attention to the curves of their breasts or the flattering line of their gowns. Not one lady fluttered her face with a fan as if she were truly suffering in the humidity of the room.
“Calm yourself. You promised our mother you would behave,” Jane whispered.
“Did I?” At Edward’s tone of defiance, she stood subtly on his toe. “Ouch, what was that for?”
“You are here tonight to meet my betrothed and to find one of your own.”
“Don’t you start sounding like our mother.”
“You must behave tonight,” she whispered and lifted her own fan, opening it wide to flutter it in the air quickly like the wings of a butterfly. Fortunately, she raised it to cover her lips so she could whisper to him conspiratorially, “All jests aside, and our parents’ wishes aside too, you cannot be completely against the idea of marriage, surely? A female companion, so you are not lonely anymore?”
“I do not remember saying I was lonely. I’m quite comfortable in my own company.” His shrug made her close up the fan and tap him around the arm with it in reprimand. “Ow.” He pretended to be hurt, wincing and rubbing the top of his arm. “Just so I know, how many more injuries should I expect tonight?”
“Surely tonight, brother is a chance for you to meet ladies without our parents breathing down your neck.”
She nodded at the great room and the number of ladies wandering back and forth. Edward had to admit there was a significant number, so many in fact that the gowns and headdresses started to blur together. He saw some ladies smile in his direction, and others started waving at gentlemen with their fans, pointing at the dance floor most eagerly in the hope of getting an invitation to dance.
“How can one truly get to know a lady when you cannot even see her face?” Edward pointed out, his eyes resting on the masks on their faces. Some masks were slim things that barely hid an identity at all, but other ladies had gone to more effort. They’d hidden their hair under turbans and wore masks that covered three-quarters of their face so they would not be recognized.
“Edward.” Jane rounded on him.
“What did I say wrong?”
“Do you mean to tell me that you are truly so shallow you must see a lady’s face before you decide whether you like her or not? Is beauty all you think of? There is more to finding a companion in life.”
“Calm your blood, Jane.” Edward laughed at his sister’s reaction and the growing pinkness up her neck, a sign of her outrage. Fortunately, the mask covered so much of her face it wasn’t easy to see the blush on her cheeks. “Come off it. I am not so shallow as to think beauty is all that matters, but I am also a man of the world. To find a partner, to consider marrying them, one must at least be a little attracted, must they not?”
“Whether or not your spouse has a fair face should not be important. It’s what’s in here that counts.” She tapped her own heart with her closed-up fan. “Oh, oh. Here he comes!” She stepped excitedly to the side as a young man was hurrying towards them.
