Masquerade

"I must say, for a ball that was planned within a couple of days, this has turned out to be quite grande!"

"You exaggerate too much, Count Allerton." James grabbed two flutes of champagne off a tray passing by and handed one to the older gentleman whose face was already bright red.

Countess Allerton casually intercepted the exchange and switched it with a preprepared glass of carbonated water. Her husband naturally didn't notice and accepted it with a hiccup.

"I heard a rumor about the Little Lady of the Girards attending tonight." The Countess mentioned this with a glint in her eye. Always interested in any morsel of gossip.

"Ah yes. She should be coming very soon." James sipped his champagne while anxiously tapping his pinky against the glass. The party was already in full swing, and she should know better than to humiliate a noble in this society. Even though it was a masquerade, she had no choice but to wear the dress he picked out for her so he could spot her easily.

He caught sight of a woman in a pink dress descending the stairs, but the dress was far simpler than the one he sent over. He lost interest and continued his senseless socialization.

...

Eliza looked over the crowded ballroom with reluctance. She hated these events. People approaching her with hidden agendas, old hags interrogating her for cheap gossip, and men vying for attention. She hadn't joined a high-society function in over a year and even then, avoided everyone as best as she could.

She took a deep breath before descending the long, curving staircase. She kept her head down to avoid attention and picked up her skirt. Before the ball, she took fabric scissors and cut away all the frills and excess ribbons. The dress went from gaudy to ordinary after her adjustments and she hoped to avoid attention this way.

Whether she knew it or not, her presence itself was enough to draw curious glances. She was a stranger to these regular partygoers and high members of society. Some were able to guess her identity and watched her with interest as she placed herself in the farthest corner of the ballroom. Luckily, the mask made it difficult to confirm nor deny if this stranger was the elusive daughter of Thomas Girard.

Eliza fidgeted with her long gloves that covered her bandage and tried to become one with the wallpaper. If possible, she wouldn't have to see the Baron up until the last moment when she greets him and leaves immediately without any further interactions.

Meanwhile, whispers of the appearance of the Little Lady of the Girards swept through the crowd. Some of the bachelors elbowed each other to get a better view and others referred to her by the nickname, the Phantom Beauty. Any woman who heard that title scoffed and raised their chin in contempt. Only one woman seemed happy to see her and naturally positioned herself nearby.

She wore a fiery red dress and sat at a table behind a column. Eliza joined her with a smile.

"Rosie. I'm glad you could make it."

Rosie smiled and leaned in closer, "Way to make an entrance, Mother."

Eliza gave her a disapproving look, "Please refrain from that name for now." She glanced around before continuing, "I thought my entrance was rather inconspicuous."

She tilted her head, "Is that what you would call it? Look again, my dear."

Eliza looked more closely at the crowd in the distance and noticed the many people looking her way and whispering to one another. Disturbed, she called over a server carrying around wine.

Rosie smiled, amused by Mother's antics.

"Anything to report?" Eliza tried to hide her unease behind her glass.

"Straight to the point, I see." Reaching past her plunging neckline, she pulled out a folded parchment and slid it across the table.

Written on it was only the identity of the man on the street.

"So, he's an ordinary apothecary seller. Is that really all there is about him?" She scrunched her nose in dissatisfaction. Surely there was more to his identity than just that.

"We believe his business ships more than just medicinal goods."

Eliza, understanding this notion, folded the paper but was still dissatisfied. "And what of my other requests?"

"Daisy's investigation was going well until... um." Rosie nervously checked her surroundings before holding both of Eliza's hands that were folded on the table. Hoping to ease her nerves before giving bad news.

"She's gone missing."

Eliza kept her expression beneath the mask neutral, but her fingers still tightly clenched Rosie's. "When did this happen?"

"Earlier this afternoon. She missed two appointments as well as our final debriefing. The girls did some investigation, and she was not visiting her foster home or at the places she usually frequents."

Even though Eliza was performing perfect conversing etiquette, her stomach dropped, and she had a terrible feeling.

"There's more." Rosie pulled out another parchment, "She did seem to be onto something and was close to nearly discovering what it was. She left this behind for you but it's blank."

Curious, Eliza held the parchment up to her nose and caught the faintest whiff of citrus. "Daisy sure loves her secret missions."

Rosie shrugged, assured that Mother had a way to decipher the message left behind.

Eliza cautiously passed the note above the centerpiece candle until the heat made words materialize on the paper. "Ho ho. That rascal." Just as she prepared to read the note, a voice from behind the pillar made her jump and it threw Rosie into action.

When James looked around the pillar at the two girls, Rosie had already slipped the warm paper back into her neckline and was casually sipping on wine.

"My Lady! Why do you hide in this dreary corner?" He came up beside her and ignored the other woman present. "Why don't we join the other guests together. Many are eager to make your acquaintance."

She could put in no words of rejection before he nearly dragged her out from behind the table. She anxiously looked back at Rosie who glared at the back of James's head, most likely cursing him to hell. He ignored any excuses Eliza gave for not wanting to meet others. When she planted her feet, he tugged her forward and pressed his hand to her lower back to guide her.

"My Lord, I feel unease at the thought of meeting strangers in this unfamiliar place."

"Is that so?" He spoke in her ear in a voice that would have worked on any smitten woman. But for her, it sent chills down her neck and felt similar to stepping in horse manure. "Would you rather dance first?"

"I don't dance."

"You have danced plenty of times before though. At my last soiree, it was like you'd never stop moving your feet."

"You are mistaken." Her voice had an edge to it now, annoyance evident in her sharp enunciations.

"Am I?" He shrugged but still moved her to the center of the dance floor and spun her into position. On cue, a slow, dreamy melody played, and everyone transitioned into a traditional waltz. It was a dance that she was familiar with, so she did the steps while imagining she was anywhere else but here.

"I almost didn't recognize you, My Lady. Was the dress not to your liking." James's face was close, and it was enough for her to see directly into his bright irises beneath the silver mask. What a pity those beautiful blue eyes were stuck to the face of a monstrous man.

Her lids narrowed in annoyance, "I truly appreciate the gift, My Lord. Unfortunately, it seemed the dress was damaged on the way to my doorstep. I did what I could to salvage it. I hope you take no offense."

"Ah-hah! I see, then I must send ten more gowns to atone for this mistake!"

"That is not necessary."

She tried stepping on his toes, but he seemed to anticipate her movements and swung her around when she came close to making contact. She clenched her teeth to hold back the profanities she wished to shout at this man.

"Regardless of the ordinary gown, you are still the most radiant woman here." He tried to stealthily close the gap, but she stepped around to keep her distance while following the movements. Most of the viewers saw nothing out of the ordinary and presumed the Lord and Lady were sharing a romantic dance. All except one individual who had a peculiar expression beneath his golden mask.

Hearing the song approaching the end, Eliza's shoulders relaxed and she released a small breath of relief. The Baron didn't miss this change in demeanor and scowled at the conductor who nervously directed the orchestra to loop the sonata again. The musicians were confused but returned to the previous al Coda as told.

Being swung back around, Eliza tensed her back and tried to keep her temper in check. The upper portion of her face may be obscured but she had a tendency to chew her bottom lip when irritated.

"My Lady, how long have we known each other?"

'Too long.'

"I am not sure, My Lord."

"You may think it's only been three years, but I must confess something."

"Must you?" Ah... She didn't mean to say that aloud.

"Ha-hah! Well, this may surprise you. But you've caught my fancy for many years now." His gaze, which was eager before, slowly became lecherous and didn't hide his intentions from then on.

She had the misfortune of locking eyes with him. In addition to the chills of disgust, she also felt a faint burning on her chest. "My Lord, I cannot accept your feelings."

"You surely jest. Ha-hah!" He seemed to laugh carefreely but his grip tightened. "How could a woman reject a man they haven't yet given a chance?"

Her eyes sharpened and her tone became frigid, "How can I? Frankly speaking, I don't owe you the time of day."

The veins up his neck bulged slightly, "I beg your pardon?"

"Has your hearing gone? Shall I repeat it for you?"

"You-!"

"There you are, Milady." Suddenly, a long arm divided the couple who had already danced themselves to the edge of the ring. It easily made the Baron lose his grip and wrapped around Eliza's shoulders to pull her away. That arm connected to a tall man with broad shoulders and dark brown hair. He grinned in a friendly manner, but she detected the warning he was giving James in just one look. Surprisingly, the Baron excused himself and she reluctantly allowed him to kiss the back of her hand before leaving in a hurry.

While in the presence of the Baron, her chest heated up until it was nearly unbearable. Then as soon as this person touched her shoulder, the pain disappeared altogether. She looked up at the tall man, "Who...?"

"You sure are a popular young lady." He grinned looking down at her and his eyes were a stunning black. His golden mask reflected too brilliantly so she couldn't gather any more details about his facial features. "I apologize for involving myself in your personal matters. You just seemed troubled, and I could not in good conscience, leave behind a woman suffering alone."

She smiled at this man but followed it with words that didn't match her expression, "You are a gentleman who is smooth with his words." She shrugged off his arm, "As a suffering woman, I know better than to entangle myself with men like you." After a half-hearted curtsy, she disappeared into the crowd, leaving behind the man whose smile never dropped. In fact, it seemed to grow wider after the interaction.

"Interesting as always, Milady."