“This is a futile effort, Aunt Grace. The men I've been engaging with so far only either want me to take my mask off, or they want to know who my father is.”
“Oh, dear.”
“Father has gone to chat with other chaperones. I do not know where Adam and Camilla are. I am all on my own here. I might take you up on that idea and steal a carriage after all.”
Grace allowed a moment of silence to pass between them—one filled with everlasting chatter and loud music.
“You know that will only enrage your father.” Grace replied. “Perhaps you just need to try harder.”
“I have tried as hard as I can, Aunt Grace. Perhaps marriage is not cut out for me.”
Grace reached for her niece's shoulder and squeezed it affectionately. “Your future husband is out there, Juliet. For allwe know, he is probably here, right now, in the hall, dancing miserably because no other woman will interest him.”
Juliet smiled behind her mask. “I appreciate this a lot, Aunt Grace.”
Grace smiled and squeezed Juliet's shoulder again.
“I promise you, there's someone out there for you. Sometimes, all you need to do is to stop looking.”
Juliet nodded. Grace shifted away from the railing and made to go back inside the hall.
“I have to go. There are people in there who need me. If you require any assistance, do not hesitate to call upon me. Or worse, ask one of the maids to fetch me.”
Juliet smiled. “Thank you, Aunt Grace.”
Grace turned away from Juliet and headed back inside. Some part of her felt wounded as she found herself amidst the crowd of masked men and ladies dancing. She couldn't help but feel like she had failed Juliet somehow, and in failing Juliet, she had failed her sister.
***
“It must be exciting, isn't it? Becoming a Marquess?” Lady Helena Waters asked in the middle of her slow dance with Weston.
Weston, who couldn't be less bothered, replied with a grunt.
“My mother informs me that part of the reason you came to the ball is for your sister.”
Weston nodded. He looked past Helena and into the crowd. His eyes swept around for his sister.
“You have to admit, though, this is more delightful than you thought it would be.” Helena said, oblivious to Weston's disinterest.
Wrong.It was worse. So far, all the women he'd chatted with were more interested in his newly acquired title. After talking with the third lady at the party, he began to grow suspicious that his mother had been sending those ladies to him with tales of his new title.
His eyes finally landed on Anne in the corner of the hall, dancing wholeheartedly with a tall, handsome young man. Weston smiled, perhaps for the first time since getting to the ball. Anne did know how to pick them.
“Do you think we might have the opportunity to dine together anytime soon? There is still a lot about you that I am curious to know.” Helena asked, shaking him out of his reverie.
Weston suddenly grew hard of breathing. He was feeling suffocated, and he needed to get out as soon as possible. He thought of the most subtle way to excuse himself without the lady taking offense.
“I'm afraid I must ease myself. Would you excuse me, Lady Helena?” He finally said. A wave of red hot flashed across hischeeks as the last word escaped his mouth. Helena looked at him for a while, intricately amused. After a while, she bowed gently.
“Absolutely, my lord.”
Weston threw her a grateful smile and broke the dance. He could feel Helena's tight glare on him as he headed outside the hall. He removed his mask the second he stepped out of the hall, and relief coursed through his veins.
He felt the cool evening air sweep across his face and heaved a sigh of relief. One more second in the hall, and he would've run out like a madman. That would give the ladies much to talk about and help his chances of landing a maiden. Weston wondered just how distraught his mother would be if that happened.
He started to wander, looking around, letting the gentle breeze continue to settle on his face. It didn't take much time before he found himself in a quiet garden laced with flowers of all sorts. His curious side leaned down to inspect the flowers and admire them. Slowly, the flowers grew from curious pieces of art to a reminder that beauty existed all around him. Perhaps he had closed his eyes a bit too tight and needed to open them a little. Eliza was the last beautiful thing in his life. Maybe he was starting to heal.
His array of thoughts was instantly interrupted by the most curious sound. At first, he could not tell what it was, but as he walked closer to it, he started to make it out. It was the sound of a woman sobbing quietly. He moved closer to the direction of the sound, which was deep in the gardens. That was when he saw her.
