“Oh darling, I’m not planning on gossiping. I’m planning on participating.”
A surprised giggle had forced its way out of me. “Esther!”
She’d given me a look. “Being an old spinster like me confers certain privileges, you know. And being wealthy. No future bridegroom of mine would ever fuss about unstained sheets on our wedding night. Now, do you want the Persephone mask or the Aphrodite mask?”
But even having Esther with me wasn’t enough to quell the nervousness bubbling in my chest. Ever since talking with Molly, I’d known I was ready to choose, ready to go back to the man I loved. But I knew him and I knew myself, and I would be lying to myself if I pretended that tonight wouldn’t test my limits, emotionally and physically. Because he was my teacher, and I his pupil, and he had proven over and over ag
ain that he took that role very seriously.
There would be punishment. There would be discipline.
And I was wet just thinking about it.
“Ivy, stop fidgeting. You’re making me nervous.”
“Sorry,” I said and she patted my knee affectionately.
The Gravendon mansion was lit up magnificently as our carriage approached, gas lamps mingled with torches along the gravel drive, every window limned with golden light. When the wheels stopped, Esther bustled quickly out of the carriage, eager to get inside, but I waited a moment. I could hear the music and laughter from out here, and I wondered if one of those voices laughing was Mr. Markham’s. I wondered how I would feel riding home in this carriage tonight, after the party, or if I would indeed even ride in it. Perhaps I would go home with Mr. Markham.
“Ivy, come on! It’s freezing out here.”
I crawled out of the carriage, forced to accept help from the footman due to the voluminous dress my aunt had forced me into, and joined her, making sure my Persephone mask was still tightly tied around my head. Esther smiled at me under her partial mask and together we walked up to the door.
Inside, it was just as loud and as bright as I’d expected. People laughed and danced, servants milled, and every corner was awash in bright colors, in gold and silver, in flashing jewels and gleaming glass. The guests and the house seemed one and the same, melded together by their vibrancy and wealth, and the two were inseparable to me as we walked further inside. These happy faces, these expensive silks, these large mirrors and these glittering chandeliers—it all seemed like a dream, too vivid to take in, too fantastic to believe. A fairy world that emerged only at certain twilight times, only to evanesce and vanish in the face of day.
The Baron stood near the stairs, marked by his scarlet sash and air of authority. He was a tall man, with very broad shoulders and a very narrow waist—an athletic frame. A strong frame. He didn’t seem to be any older than Mr. Markham, but so much power and raw maleness rolled off him that one could not doubt that he was experienced. With money, with women, with life.
He came towards us at once, and part of me wanted to step back, to bolt and run, rather than have to talk to this man, but Esther strode right up, all curves and satin and dangling blond curls. She looked beautiful, and the Baron did not miss it. He took Esther’s hand and kissed it, letting his gaze linger, and even with the mask, I could see the blush creeping up Esther’s face.
“I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure,” he murmured.
“I’m Esther Leavold,” she said. “I’m accompanying my niece, Ivy.”
At my name, his eyes flickered with interest. “So this is the Ivy Leavold that has Julian Markham so taken?”
Now it was my turn to blush. Did Mr. Markham really talk about me so often that my name was known to one of the peers of the realm? Or was it Silas who had told him?
Either way, I could no longer hide. I stepped forward and gave a small curtsy.
He turned his attention back to my aunt. “And you are the woman from Bombay who has arrived with a massive fortune and no husband.”
Perhaps it hadn’t been Mr. Markham or Silas who’d told him about me. Perhaps Lord Gravendon was simply one of those people who knew everything.
Esther was smiling at him now, all pink lips and white teeth, and I watched as the Baron stared at her mouth. “Yes, no husband. I haven’t met a man suitable enough yet, and besides, if I were married, I would miss the chance to chaperone Ivy to such exciting events.”
The Baron’s voice was low when he spoke. “Now, Esther, I hope you will give your niece a few unchaperoned moments? To reunite with her fiancé?” His brown eyes were boring into hers with a heat that was palpable even to me.
“Of course,” she said.
“Turn around for me, Esther,” he ordered abruptly, his voice graveled.
Blushing and clearly surprised, Esther obeyed, spinning a slow circle while he watched, his pupils dilating.
“Might I claim the pleasure of your company for part of the evening?” No one missed how his voice rolled over the word pleasure. “Since you are a new guest, I would very much enjoy giving you a tour of the house and introducing you to my friends.”
“I would be honored,” she stammered. I’d never heard Esther stammer before.
He leaned down and whispered something in her ear, and she laughed her loud tinkling laugh. Then she turned to me. “Go on, dear, it’s all right. Go find him.”
