Page 8 of Unmasking a Wicked Marquess
“Oh.” Violet looked quite upset at the idea. “But how else are you supposed to get married?”
“Vi!” Juliet laughed loudly. “I do not remember saying I intended to get married.”
Yet Violet cocked a single eyebrow. Plainly, she did not believe a word Juliet had said.
Chapter 2
“Are you sure you will not come?” Juliet asked as she stood fidgeting in the doorway of her house. The white mask had been tied neatly at the back of her head, her white and green gown covered by a slim-fitting pelisse. As she looked in the mirror, she chewed her lip, not convinced by her appearance.
To her mind, Violet had always been the most beautiful of the two of them. Where Juliet had auburn hair, to such a degree that the red tinge was something she disliked intently, Violet had fair blonde hair. They had a similar facial structure, with the same heart-shaped faces and curved cheeks, but Juliet had always preferred Violet’s eyes.
She bore the rich brown eyes of their father, soft and almost puppy-like in their sweetness. In contrast, Juliet’s eyes were a strange violet hue. Sometimes one had to strain to see it, squinting to look at her, but other times they glowed this unnatural colour in the candlelight, and people would comment on the oddity of it.
Juliet adjusted the mask on her face, hoping it would help to hide that colour tonight.
“No, no. Gone are the days when the pair of us went to such balls.” Cecily appeared behind her, lovingly placing her hands on Juliet’s shoulders. “We were young once and danced happily at such events. There were nights where your father and I were scarcely ever off the dancefloor.” She giggled warmly. “Yet not anymore.”
“My knees couldn’t take it!” Robert called humorously from the other end of the room. “Especially the way you and I used to dance.”
“He’s quite right.” Cecily continued to pat Juliet’s shoulder. “You are not worried, are you? Brandon will be a very good escort to you and your sister. He is so protective of her; he wouldn’t dare be anything else.”
“I know.” Juliet sighed deeply. “You must know as well as I, Ma, they are so recently married they shall spend all evening talking to one another.”
“Good,” Robert called once more from the other end of the room. “That leaves you to do your own thing tonight. Find a suitor of your own. Dance with who you wish to, within reason, of course.”
“Pa!” Juliet complained and turned away from the mirror. Her mother fussed with her pelisse for a few minutes, adjusting it on her shoulders with eagerness.
“All I’m saying is do not dance with every man that asks you.” Robert was sitting near the front door, rubbing one of his sore knees. He’d injured them in a riding accident many years ago, and he sometimes walked with a cane to assist him these days, though to Juliet’s mind, he still looked too young to walk with a stick. “Not every man is worthy of you.”
“He’s your father,” Cecily reminded her. “It’s his place to worry for you.”
“How am I to know who I should dance with?” Juliet asked. “Should I ask for the man’s credentials and a detailed description of his reputation before I consent to dance with him?”
“It’s hardly the worst idea in the world.”
“Robert,” Cecily hissed and walked over to him. “Do not be ridiculous. We want Juliet to enjoy herself tonight.”
“Yes, yes, indeed we do.” Robert stood, reaching for the cane beside him and using it to walk nearer to Juliet. “Do enjoy yourself, and as for your sister’s preoccupation with her new husband, do not worry about that.” He smiled indulgently. “We can tease you too when all you can think about is the man you will someday marry.”
“Why is everyone preoccupied with me marrying all of a sudden?” Juliet asked, her voice a little sharper than she meant it to be. Her mother and father exchanged a look, but neither of them said anything.
There was a knock on the front door, and all three of them turned to look at it.
“You were saved from answering,” Juliet murmured as she walked to the door and opened it wide.
On the doorstep stood Violet and Brandon together. They were looking at one another with such fixed stares that it took them both a few seconds to realize Juliet had answered the door at all.
“Good evening,” Juliet said pointedly to get their attention, even going so far as to wave her hand madly in the air.
“Good evening.” Brandon turned to face her. His fair hair, only a few shades darker than Violet’s, flicked around his forehead as he turned to look at her. “Well, the carriage is ready if you are prepared to depart, Juliet.”
“I am indeed,” Juliet murmured. “As ready as a bee is to sting.”
“Juliet,” Cecily hissed in reprimand, though, as usual, she was doing her best to hide her smile. “Behave tonight.”
“When do I do anything but?” Juliet asked with innocence. “You must allow me a few jokes at their expense.” She gestured between Brandon and Violet, who were already walking back to their carriage, arm in arm, and laughing about something together. “I feel like a third horse attached to a carriage when there should be just two, out of place and unlikely to upset the cart altogether.”
“Nonsense.” Cecily waved a hand in the air. “Now go, go.” Juliet stepped outside, hurried by her mother’s quick flicks of her hands. “And remember to have a good time!”
