by Fanny Finch
Once again, Fiona replied dryly, apparently getting tired of her mother’s fawning.
“Yes, you have, Mother. About a thousand times now, but who’s counting?” That statement was said with a forced smile that was just as false.
Aunt Leah saw it and recognized it for that it was. It was why she faltered before speaking on.
“Oh well, I suppose I simply cannot get over the fact that you look like a dream! You shall surely turn heads tonight, darling. Even with your mask on. It is why I made one that would cover your face only around your eyes.
”That way, not much of your beauty will be hidden. You shall see, the gentlemen of the ton shall flock your way, like birds to their nests in winter.”
“Thank you, Mother.”
Gwendoline listened and watched the entire exchange with a slight numbing pain in her heart.
Aunt Leah had not said a word of praise to her all evening - not that she had been expecting it. After all, Aunt Leah was not her mother and she had always made it clear that she did not intend to act as one.
Still, it hurt Gwendoline.
Aunt Leah had brought ladies to prepare Fiona for the ball. They had made Fiona’s hair into a very lovely updo. They had adorned her neck, wrist and ears with the loveliest of jewelry, emeralds, bringing out the color in Fiona’s eyes.
And goodness, that silvery dress Fiona had on… it made her look like a dream, indeed.
Gwendoline did not have that big of an imagination, yet she had often imagined that if one of these fairytale princesses walked out of the books in human form, they would look exactly like Fiona did tonight.
Gwendoline had never seen her cousin look so beautiful. Especially with the cosmetics that had been applied to her face. The dark liquid that lined her eyes, the pink blush on her cheeks, and the red balm that she wore on her lips.
Gwendoline had been neglected and left to dress up on her own. She had made do with what she had. An old blue gown of Fiona’s, that was considerably plain. Thankfully, Fiona had worn it only once, so it still shone as though it were new.
Still, the difference was clear. Gwendoline had held her hair up with pins, and she had worn a silver band to hold straying tendrils in place. She had had that band for years, given to her by her father.
Her neck held a tiny piece of jewelry, almost invisible. It was the only thing left of her mother that she had been allowed to keep. She wore it every day, so it was nothing special.
If she were the gentlemen of the ton, she knew that she would pass her over and pick Fiona without a second’s thought.
This was her aunt’s aim, and of course, it would be achieved.
Gwendoline knew that she was an orphan, and that she had no one. She knew that if that terrible accident had not happened, and that unfortunate illness, it would be her family here with her, in this carriage.
She too would look like a princess and the lips of the ones she loved would be filled with adulation for her.
Alas, that was not the case, and yet again, she found herself missing her dead, mourning them.
In times like these, she was tempted to ask why she had been left behind. She refrained from doing so. If fate had left her untouched, then there must be something else in store for her.
She only hoped it was not more pain.
Gwendoline was drawn out of her thoughts when she felt a hand on top of hers. She looked up, and got drawn into those obsidian black eyes of her uncle, that were always kind and warm and affectionate towards her.
“You look very beautiful yourself, Gwendoline. You have always been a beautiful child. It is the kind of beauty that flows from within. So effortless and so graceful. You shall turn a number of heads tonight, I reckon.”
If not for anything else, Gwendoline knew that she must remain grateful for this man.
Her face lit in a small smile and she covered his hand with her free one.
“Thank you, Uncle Albert. You are always so kind.”
“Father is right, Gwendoline. You look so pretty, I am almost jealous. The blue gown was my least favorite, yet you make it look as though it had been sewn just for you. I shall not be surprised if your dance card overflows tonight.”
Now, Gwendoline chuckled and as the sound left her, some of the ache in her heart was released. Her stomach loosened and her chest became free enough for her to breathe again.
“You flatter me, Fiona. Like father, like daughter. Thank you.”
Fiona was going to say something but her mother cut her off. As Aunt Leah’s words filled the carriage, Gwendoline quickly withdrew her hands from Uncle Albert’s.
“You would do well to keep in mind that their words are indeed nothing but flattery, dear child. You are not that beautiful - it is the truth and it has to be said. If you manage to get one name on your dance card, then you must count yourself lucky.”
Gwendoline refused to let her joy be ruined.
“Leah, do not be sour,” said Uncle Albert. “The child is as lovely as a rainbow in summer, and you know this.
”She blooms like a flower in spring and she is as fresh as the air in autumn. I declare she shall be the most beautiful debutante this season. Mark my words.”
Aunt Leah huffed at her husband and looked away, so that her eyes remained on the windows.
“I do not think I have ever heard you sing poetry for me or your daughter - your true daughter. We shall see how she shall manage to draw attention in that dreary mask of hers. We shall see.”
Her uncle would have replied, but Gwendoline hurriedly spoke up.
She did not want to ruin the love between her aunt and her husband, or the peace in the carriage. Uncle Albert was a wonderful man, but nothing saved him from his wife’s wrath.
“I have no intention to outshine anybody, Uncle Albert. It is only my first ball and I simply hope to have a lovely evening.”
It was the truth, and that settled things. This was the first ball of the season, and the first ball of her life – a masquerade ball.
She had her mask in her reticule and was not looking forward to wearing it. It was huge, and a whispery blue, covering almost all of her face.
Alas, she had no choice but to put it on. While she focused on having a lovely evening, she would do well to wear it with pride.
Perhaps, having a mask to hide behind, would prove a good thing.
Finally, they arrived at Lord Pevcolt’s manor. As they alighted from the carriage, one by one, Gwendoline saw that there were so many other coaches lined up and more, taking places behind theirs by the second.
Everyone began to put on their masks, so she took the cue to wear hers too.
“Shall we?” Uncle Albert asked, and when they all nodded, he began to lead the way.
Gwendoline took note of everything. The people who passed them by, chattering and laughing happily, the house which shone from a distance. And the lovely attire everyone was dressed in.
Compared to the dresses she had seen so far, she knew that she was truly dressed down. Nevertheless, everyone seemed happy enough to be here and it was that cheer that she held on to.
As they entered the manor, they were welcomed by the butler and shown the way. As they walked further into the house, the sound of people talking and laughing grew louder, until they finally came into a large hall.
Gwendoline knew instantly that this was the ball room. The ceiling went high, reaching up to the roof and right in its middle, hung a grand piece of chandelier that shone a thousand different colors.
It was simply breathtaking. All of it, was beautiful.
The ball room was filled with people dressed in their finest. The elegance and taste of the house reflected in its guests.
In this large crowd, Gwendoline was aware of how greatly she stood out. She was also aware that no one would easily take notice of a petite young girl, who had never been to a ball before.
“Welcome to your first ball, Gwendoline. This marks the beginning of many more to come. I hope you enjoy grandeur
in its finest.”
Gwendoline looked up at her uncle, and her heart soared. She was finally here. After all these years of wondering and waiting. She was finally here. It was everything that she had imagined and so much more.
“It really is grand. I never thought it would be anything like this.”
Uncle Albert laughed at her words, at her apparent awe.
His attention was drawn to something in the distance. Crushed in the crowd and at a disadvantage by her height, Gwendoline was hopeless to see what it was.
“I think that is Lord Henry Pevcolt I see. Take a look, Leah.”
Her aunt stepped forward to peer. She was not as tall as her daughter or her husband, but her height was sufficient in this moment.
“I do believe it is him indeed. I would recognize that bald head and missing tooth even in my dreams.”
It was probably the first time Gwendoline had heard her aunt sound truly fond of someone.
“Well then, we must go say our greetings.” Aunt Leah paused to look at Gwendoline.
“He is an old friend of the family. He was especially fond of your mother and would not cease asking me about you. Now that you have finally come to London, I must make introductions. Come now, before this crowd gets even madder.”
As they began to maneuver their way through, Fiona came to stand beside her and said in a whisper,
“Lord Pevcolt’s ball is always the biggest of the season. You will like him, you’ll see. He was friends with grandfather.
”When you have lived as long as he has, in his words, you learn to enjoy each day as it comes, as though it were your last.”
Gwendoline found herself growing an instant fondness for him, and looking forward to meeting him in person.
Finally, they came to a stop and the crowd before them seemed to have vanished.
This time, Gwendoline did not have to look up, for the man standing before them was indeed bald, old and grey, and very much Gwendoline’s height.
When he smiled, she easily spotted the missing tooth that was his characteristic.
“Your Grace, do you remember me?” It was Fiona who spoke first, grinning widely as she did.
Lord Pevcolt narrowed his eyes and drew his frames closer, so he would take a good look at her. Gwendoline watched, amused as different emotions flickered through those eyes that were almost as grey as what was left of the hair on his head.
There was curiosity, then interest, then amusement and finally recognition. As the last one prevailed, his eyes lit up and his lips curved in a happy smile, exposing the missing tooth yet again.
“If it isn’t Fiona Cartridge, then I shall have to return to my physician and tell him that my sight has gone worse. My goodness. You are as radiant as ever. Thank the Lord you have not grown any taller in the past year. I was afraid I might have to climb on a stool the next time we meet.”
Everyone laughed at this, even Gwendoline. It was so easy to see now why the old man was loved.
“I do believe I remember you singing my praises, last season, Your Grace - as tall as the giraffe and as graceful as the gazelle.”
“Indeed, that you are, my dear, and always will be,” he agreed, taking her hand in his to bestow with a kiss.
He released her hand and Fiona sunk into a very deep, effortless curtsy.
“Thank you, Your Grace. You are ever so kind.”
As she rose, he moved on to Aunt Leah, and took her hand in his to kiss too.
“Leah Cartridge. As beautiful and stern as ever. Smile a little more, would you? The lines around your eyes are beginning to wrinkle from that frown you always have on.”
Gwendoline stilled, waiting for her aunt to have an outburst any moment now. She was truly shocked when nothing like that happened. Instead, Aunt Leah simply smiled and curtsied.
As she rose, she said, “I shall try, Your Grace. I shall try. It is only, when one has not lived for as long as you have, the troubles of life tend to weigh them down.”
Lord Pevcolt smiled, shaking his head as he did. “Dear Leah, when one has lived for as long as I have, they realize that these troubles are often the burdens we tell ourselves we have to bear. It is not so often the case.”
Uncle Albert spoke then, just as the Duke reached him.
“It is always a delight to see you, Your Grace. You have thrown quite a lovely ball, as always.”
Lord Pevcolt had a warm smile and a bob of head for him. Then, he finally came to stand before Gwendoline.
She held her heart in her hands as he peered at her. She wondered what the duke would say about her. This man who had put Aunt Leah down, and had gone unreprimanded.
“Hm… eyes, a distinct blue. Hair as golden as the sun, just like Leah’s. There is only one other person I know with such eyes, two others with such hair.
”I see that Leah has kept to her word. She has finally brought the daughter of Sophia Hathaway to me. Blessed be the day.”
Honored beyond words that this man who had never seen her had recognized her for the resemblance she bore with her late mother, Gwendoline dipped into the deepest of curtsies.
“Gwendoline Hathaway, Your Grace. It is an honor to make your acquaintance.”
As she rose, Lord Pevcolt took her hands.
“You may be hidden behind that hideous mask, but I can see that you are just as beautiful as your mother, maybe even more. And that voice… you sound exactly like her. I wonder if you sing as well as she does.”
He reached to cup her cheek in affection.
“I am so sorry for the tragedy you have had to go through. When the news reached me, I was broken in my soul. I wished to come see them laid to rest, pay my final respects, but my physician advised against such a long journey.
”I too have lost my wife and son. It’s been over twenty years, but the pain is just as new, still as fresh in my heart, every day. May the Lord give you peace and strength, but most of all, may He give you love.”
Gwendoline dragged in a deep breath and made certain that she trusted herself to speak without betraying her emotions before doing so.
“I have no doubt that my mother must have loved you too. Thank you, Your Grace. Your words have indeed given me peace tonight.”
“So like your mother. So much like her. Meek and humble, graceful in speech. Every season I asked of you, knowing fully well that you have come of age to enter society.
”Every season, your aunt told me of how you still mourn, and how you wished for a little more time. It broke my heart, every time. You have no idea how happy I am to finally have you here.”
Gwendoline was shocked by the blatant lie her aunt had told of her absence.
Mourning her loved ones? There was no limit to Aunt Leah’s antics, was there? And how many more lies had she told? To Gwendoline, and about her?
Refusing to cause a commotion, she simply smiled and said, “Time has done some work. Indeed, the pain shall never go away, but life must go on.”
“Ah! That is absolutely right. Life must indeed go on. I look forward to seeing you have your own family.
”Now, to that question. Do you sing? Your mother used to be one of the best singers I had ever known. The whole world went quiet when she sang, even the birds grew green with envy.”
“I… Your Grace…”
She wanted to deny it. But could she lie to this man? How would that make her different from her aunt?
Still, what if she said the truth and it appeared as though she was arrogant?
Uncle Albert solved her dilemma for her.
“She sings better than the nightingale, Your Grace. I have never heard her mother sing but I reckon Gwendoline sings even better. It is always a joy whenever she decides to bestow the household with her sweet music.
”And like her mother, she plays the harp and pianoforte as though she were born doing so.”
Lord Pevcolt clapped happily as his eyes lit up in joy.
“Wonderful! Delightful! In that case, you shall be a dear and sing for u
s tonight, won’t you?”
Tonight? Her eyes bulged open as fear gripped her.
“Your Grace, tonight?”
“Yes, my dear. You would bless us with your gift, share it with us, would you not?”
“Of course, Your Grace, but… I am afraid I did not come prepared to render any song.”
“You do not need preparation for something you do so effortlessly well,” he argued.
