“Why? Will you stomp on my foot again?” Percival chuckled.
“Yes. Harder than before.”
“What a good cousin you are.” Percival managed to tear his shoulder out of Christopher’s grasp, but he walked on, not turning back as Christopher feared that he might. As they moved into the center of the ballroom, they came to a natural stop with Robert looking repeatedly around himself in search of his betrothed.
Christopher’s own gaze lingered on the people and the decorations. The Countess of Wessex had gone to town in her preparations for this ball. There did not appear to be a surface that wasn’t swathed in some sort of colored material. Great curtains flanked the violinists who accompanied the dancers with merry tunes. The wine table bore ribbons of red and white, and even thin strips of material hung dangerously close to the flames on candelabras.
The effect was reminiscent of the masquerade balls of Italy with harlequin masks adorning guests’ faces, and great elaborate headdresses that completely disguised people. As Christopher looked between the darkened eyes that peered out from such masks with whitened covers, he realized just how difficult it would be tonight to recognize anyone.
Where are you?
The thought rippled through his mind repeatedly as he sought one particular person. Yet it would be impossible to find Lady Helena in this crowd without some sort of hint as to her identity. She could have been in the Colombina outfit that had just passed him by, the figure fromCommedia Dell’Artethat so often accompanied the Harlequin as a love interest. Similarly, she was so tall of figure, that she could have been behind the blue and green mask that had just circled him, bearing peacock feathers.
“This is impossible,” Percival muttered, elbowing Christopher to get his attention. “How are you supposed to find anyone in this crowd?”
“You simply have to know where to look,” Robert said, freezing as he stared in one direction of the room. “If you would excuse me.”
“You have found her then?” Christopher asked knowingly. It had hardly escaped his notice that their appearance here tonight had been as encouraged by Robert as it was by the rest of his family though he suspected Robert had an ulterior motive — to see Lady Julia again. “How do you know it is her in a ball such as this?”
“I would know Julia anywhere though I admit her disguise tonight is an effective one. She promised to wear a white rose in her headdress.” He nodded at a lady through the crowd and walked off in her direction.
Christopher followed his brother’s movement with his eyes to see where he was walking. There were two ladies standing at the side of the ballroom, close to the drinks table. They were the right heights to be Lady Julia and Lady Helena though, in truth, he would have struggled to recognize them. The lady with the white rose in her hair was engulfed in white folds with an elaborate gown more in the style of eighteenth-century fashion with great voluminous skirts.
Beside her, the other lady was infinitely more captivating to Christopher, and he realized with some excitement that had his feet moving forward exactly why.
It is Lady Helena.
She wore a golden gown, cinched at the waist with a corset and an elaborately decorated brocade. It was also in the eighteenth-century style though with a slimmer skirt that accented her figure and the elegant slimness of her figure and legs. Her head tilted to the side, enough for Christopher to see her dark hair was completely hidden by an amber turban, topped with golden jewels. The mask covered most of her face, a pearlescent white peppered with golden stars.
“Can you hear me anymore, or by any chance, is your mind somewhere infinitely more pleasant?” Percival teased him at his side.
“Enough, Percival,” Christopher pleaded, staring at Lady Helena.
As Robert arrived at their side, he easily took Lady Julia away and asked her to dance. Lady Helena was left alone, lifting a glass to her lips. She did not look as confident nor as comfortable tonight as she usually did at balls. She took a sip of her wine and turned away, putting her back to the room.
Is something wrong?
“If you would excuse me,” Christopher muttered to his cousin, about to walk toward her when another gentleman appeared at her side, and Christopher came to a stop.
“It seems another has beaten you to it, cousin.” Percival pointed out. “Shall we get a drink whilst you wait your turn?”
“But…” Christopher didn’t have the words as the gentleman took Lady Helena’s hand and drew her toward the dance floor.
“You have missed your chance; you must wait for another. Lord Mistwood has claimed her for now.”
“Lord Mistwood!?” Christopher spluttered, his eyes flicking to the gentleman.
“Well, his disguise is not so good as others, is it?” Percival asked with a deep laugh.
The Harlequin figure took hold of Lady Helena’s hand and drew her toward the dance floor with such purpose that Christopher’s hands balled into fists at his sides.
Lord Mistwood. She dances with Lord Mistwood.
The envy spiked strongly within his stomach.
“Everything well, cousin?” Percival asked, a sense of knowingness in his tone.
“Maybe I do need that drink.” Christopher marched toward the drinks’ table, though he repeatedly looked at the dancers, remembering what Lady Helena had said about Lord Mistwood before and her praise of him.
