The Christmas Ball

by Sherrill Bodine

  Athena went utterly still. How could she possibly make her young sister comprehend the disaster that was last night? “Persephone, you cannot understand—”

  A commotion in the hallway stopped her. Her stepmama and Minerva had returned from their round of calls. Quickly she made her escape, unable to deal with what the gossip mill had to report. She hid in the conservatory, so restless that she felt she might break apart and scatter to fly with the wind. She picked at the plants until it seemed she might strip them of all their foliage. Finally she clipped two of the roses she had worn in her hair last night and carried them to her room. For hours she sat in the window seat, dreaming the day away and watching the snow fall.

  When Athena prepared for tea, Sally came in with her cloak.

  “ ’Twas wrinkled and mussed, my lady, so I sponged and pressed it. By the by, Lady Persephone’s not feeling well. She’s taking a tray in her room.

  Horrified at her selfish isolation, Athena flew from her bedchamber across the hall.

  “Persephone, are you not feeling well? What ails you?” Athena cried, rushing to her side.

  “I am simply tired of waiting for you to confess all.”

  Athena stopped short, noting for the first time the pugnacious lift to her sister’s chin and her arms folded tightly across her chest. “Well, now that I am here, you should do your exercises.” The little minx—worrying her. Not waiting for a reply, Athena started the nightly massage and the stretching and bending movements she felt sure would help Persephone walk again.

  “It was a beautiful evening last night, dearest,” she said quietly, finding it easier to talk about it while her head was bent over Persephone’s legs. “The manor never looked more delightful, decorated with fir and bows and candles. The smells were delicious.”

  Persephone remained silent. Athena massaged her ankles and tucked flannel around her feet. Finally she looked at her sister. Recognizing the stubborn set to her mouth, Athena smoothed the coverlet and sighed.

  “Persephone, I know you are wise for your years. However—”

  “Are you hiding the fact that you gave yourself to Lord Finchley last night?”

  “Persephone!” Shock brought Athena to her feet, heat blazing to her cheeks. “Of course I did not! How could you think such a thing?”

  “Short of that, there is nothing you could not confess to me,” Persephone declared, her eyes alive with excitement. “You fell madly in love with Lord Finchley last night, did you not?”

  “I am not sure it was love I felt for Lord Finchley last night,” she replied, being as truthful as possible.

  “Wanton thought and love, I think, go hand in hand on occasion.”

  Athena sank down beside her sister, overcome by the workings of her young mind. “Wherever have you got such ideas?”

  She patted Athena’s arm as if she were the older sister. “There are many books in Papa’s library, and he notices not what I study, just that I do. Now we must face the facts. Lord Finchley is looking for you. He must be madly in love, and you … you must reveal yourself.”

  “No, dearest, he is looking for the woman I became for a few brief hours last night. The woman you helped create. She said and did things I would never dream of doing in the light of day. She no longer exists.”

  “Of course she does! Inside you.” Persephone sat straight up in bed, her rich, dark hair falling over her thin shoulders. “You must let her out, so all can see her and love her, as I do.”

  “Look at me.” She cupped her sister’s small face with shaking palms. “Truly look at me. Not as my dearest sister but as a stranger might. Do I look like the woman you sent off to the ball last night?”

  “No.” The answer came out in a strangled whisper.

  Athena released her and backed to the door. “That is why I do not reveal myself to Lord Finchley. I could not bear to see the disappointment in his eyes.”

  Persephone stared at the closed door for long minutes after her sister had slipped from the room. “No, you do not look like the goddess,” she repeated into the silence. “Yet you could, Athena. You could if you would only allow it to happen.”

  She cast a long, exasperated look at her rolling chair across the room. She had to get to her writing desk. Flinging back the covers, she pulled her useless legs over the side of the bed. She braced them apart and, using a bedpost, pulled herself up. For one breathless moment they held her weight; then she fell. Angry, she pushed herself up again and rang for her maid.

  Though the heavy parlor draperies had been drawn against the night, Drew flung them aside to gaze out at the countryside. Where could she be hiding? Despite the snowfall they had ridden to all the nearby estates today to no avail. His goddess still eluded him. He drew the rosette from his coat and rolled it between his fingers, imagining it carried the sweet scent of her.

  Gregory made a noisy entrance. “Dash it, Drew, you have the look of a lovesick pup. Not yourself at all! Want a brandy?”

  Drew allowed himself to be coaxed to a chair by the blazing fire. A glass was pressed into his hand before Gregory dropped into the chair opposite him.

  “Sorry, Drew. Think the beauty has eluded us.”

  A sharp knife of disappointment made him tip all the fiery liquor down his throat.

  Gregory poured him another. Swirling this glass between his fingers, Drew studied the amber liquid as if it held the answer he sought. “I have two more days until I must leave for Finchley Park. I cannot delay longer. It would displease my father. So there is still time. And if we don’t find her now, I will be back.”

  “That’s more like it. Dash it all, want to help you, but I’m promised to Persephone on the morrow. Received a missive she wants a sleigh ride now that we have snow. Bringing Lady Athena along, so she suggested you accompany us.”

  He looked up and shrugged. “Persephone is a delightful little minx, and her sister appears pleasant enough, quiet yet with a quick mind.” Remembering her swift deduction about his quest, he lifted one eyebrow quizzically. “She definitely put me in my place today, and without calling me a besotted fool.”

  “Both sisters are smart as whips. Minerva can be, too, when she’s not being so selfish. Their father is a brilliant scholar. Been writing a history of ancient Greece as long as I can remember.”

  The brandy glass at his lips, Drew paused. “I suddenly realize the sisters are all named for goddesses. Athena and Persephone are Greek, but Minerva is Roman.”

  “Due to that mother! Picked Minerva ’cause she is the equivalent of Athena. Didn’t want her firstborn slighted.” He sighed. “Never met such a woman. Can’t think how Lord Cummins puts up with her.”

  Rejecting the thought before it was even fully formed, Drew sipped at the second brandy. There had been nothing in the plain Athena to remind him of his goddess—a woman who had melted into his arms with such passion, he became aroused merely by the memory.

  He started up and opened the draperies again. She had not been a figment of his imagination. She had to live somewhere, and he would not rest until he found her.

  Chapter 5

  Persephone waited until her mama and Minerva had gone out to purchase the last of the Christmas gifts before she rolled herself into the conservatory, where Athena sat reading beside the fountain. “Will you come on a sleigh ride with me?”

  Looking up, Athena smiled. “That would be lovely. I will have John Coachman hook up the sleigh at once.”

  “He has already done so.” Lifting her chin, Persephone braved her sister’s startled eyes. “Gregory and Lord Finchley will be arriving at any moment to escort us.”

  Athena shook her head, and her eyes dilated like Morgana’s at dusk. “Persephone, do not do this thing.”

  “I fear I already have. Minerva has gone out with Mama, and I will not bring a maid along to be seated next to Lord F
inchley. Fortify yourself. If the goddess he seeks no longer exists, you have nothing to fear.”

  Turning away, Persephone frowned. Of all the people in her world, she loved Athena the best; she would never hurt her. Devoutly she hoped she was not now doing so.

  Somewhat bemused, Athena stared after her sister’s retreat. Persephone, despite her words, did not understand the terrible pain she felt when Lord Finchley was near her.

  The temptations. The temptation to discover the pleasures his lips and hands had promised. The temptation to once again have him look at her with desire.

  Her stepmama had reported smugly that in two days he would be gone, she reminded herself. All she must do was survive until then.

  Then, if she tried very hard, she could put him behind her and once again pick up the threads of her quiet life.

  John Coachman had brought the sleigh around to the front door. She wore her drab cloak, the one that clashed with her hair and complexion, while muffling Persephone up in bright red kersey wool. When Lord Finchley and Gregory arrived by horseback, they were ready and waiting. Gregory carried Persephone to the sleigh, placing her carefully on the front seat and tucking a rug around her before leaping up to take the reins.

  Lord Finchley very properly handed Athena into the backseat. She found herself snuggled up against the very man who filled her every waking thought and invaded her dreams. Even though they were separated by layers of rugs, cloaks, and clothing, she could feel his heat seep into her and undermine all her courage.

  The bells jingled and the sleigh runners swooshed, and they were off. Persephone demanded the reins, and Gregory’s merry laughter as he denied her that privilege echoed through the frosty air.

  Lord Finchley smiled at Athena. “They are very fond of each other, I think.”

  She nodded. “When they were children, Persephone was his shadow. Lately, of course, they have not seen so much of each other.”

  He shifted in his seat uncomfortably. She did not want to betray her nervousness by shrinking away, yet she was certain she bored him. She sat utterly still, clenching and unclenching her fingers beneath the warmth of the rug.

  “You and your sisters all have the names of goddesses. Tell me why.” His eyes searched her face as if seeking an important answer.

  “Our father is a scholar.” She said it quickly, then changed the subject. “I am freezing.”

  A perfect excuse to lower her bonnet and bury her face in the rug. At once concerned, he rearranged the rugs, going so far as to put an arm about her.

  Gregory pulled on the reins, and the sleigh stopped abruptly. Persephone turned to them, longing in her eyes. “Gregory and I always made snow forts here. He is willing to do so again.”

  Hating to disappoint her but knowing she must, Athena shook her head. “I am sure Lord Finchley—”

  “Would love to build a fortress,” he interrupted, laughing. “Used to be quite good at it.”

  At Persephone’s shouts of joy he glanced down at Athena. “Let the child have some fun.”

  His kindness added to her feelings, already racing out of control. Her fingers trembled within her mitten as he took her hand and helped her down into the gleaming field of white.

  Following Persephone’s shouts of encouragement, Lord Finchley plowed off through the snow to make a fort while Gregory built his next to the sleigh.

  “I shall be on Gregory’s team. You, Athena, shall help Lord Finchley!”

  Really, Athena began to fear that her dearest sister had become too bossy for her own good. At least out here, in the crisp, cold wind, she was free of the overwhelming closeness of his presence.

  Knowing her duty, she rolled huge masses of snow along the ground to build up their fortress. She felt a snowball thud against her back as she bent over the front wall, smoothing it to perfection. Gregory’s laughing face told the story.

  Lord Finchley retaliated for her and struck Gregory in the shoulder. She ducked into the safety of the fort and began rolling compact balls for ammunition.

  Swearing vengeance, Gregory returned fire. Snowballs began flying in all directions. As quickly as he could make them, Gregory tossed snowballs to Persephone, and she pelted Lord Finchley and Athena with an accurate eye from her perch in the sleigh.

  Laughing, Athena jumped up and began her own assault. She had true aim, managing to just miss Persephone, making her shriek with delight. But then a snowball splattered against her bonnet, knocking it off. Trying to catch it, Athena tripped and tumbled into a snowbank.

  Lord Finchley ran to her and reached down a hand to pull her from the snow. Suddenly he froze, gazing at her wonderingly. Warmth tingled along her skin as she rammed the bonnet back in place, tying it firmly beneath her chin.

  “What is wrong, my lord?”

  He blinked and his eyes refocused. “I fear you will catch your death of cold sitting in the snow.” Effortlessly he pulled her to her feet.

  In truth Athena shivered, but not from the cold.

  “Quickly, Athena, we must return home!” Persephone shouted. “I saw Mama’s carriage drive past on the road. They have returned early, and there will be the devil to pay.”

  The gentlemen very properly paid their respects to Papa while Athena and Persephone confronted Mama in the parlor. Minerva was in a towering rage.

  “What is the meaning of this nonsense? Why was Minerva excluded from your sleigh ride, Athena?” Her stepmama’s voice when communicating with her never varied from a sharp demand, even at five, when she’d first met her and had read her right and true. But this time a quiver of outrage warned her she was in over her head.

  “Gregory took us as a treat to me,” Persephone piped up, trying to protect her. “It is not our fault Minerva was out shopping with you, Mama.”

  “See that you are more thoughtful in the future,” she sniffed. “Tush, Minerva, I will see to it that you go on the next outing. Now I must see what is keeping the gentlemen.”

  The instant her back was turned, Minerva stuck out her tongue at her sisters. “Oh, you think you are so clever, leaving me out of your fun. Well, you shall be sorry this time! I put Morgana out in the snow, where you’ll never find her.” She turned and flounced out of the room.

  All the color drained from Persephone’s face. “She is wicked, Athena. Morgana is too old to be out in this weather.”

  “Never fear, I shall bring Morgana home.” Athena, while terrified for her beloved pet, felt she should project confidence in front of her sister. She quickly donned her cloak and bonnet, tying a scarf over it to keep it in place and provide some extra warmth. She had to be gone before the gentlemen returned. Truth to tell, as much as she regretted Minerva’s foolishness, she did not regret absenting herself from Lord Finchley’s presence.

  She walked along the drive, staying in the ruts the carriage wheels had made, calling to Morgana. But she reached the main road without a sign of the cat.

  Morgana usually came when she called, but the cat had not been outside for two or three years. She was probably terrified, as well as cold and wet. Athena stoutly refused to think the worst and kept trudging forward even though large, wet snowflakes began to fall.

  Trying to keep cheerful as the temperature dropped, she pretended to be delighted with the snowfall. Perhaps it would continue—she always loved when it snowed on Christmas Eve as they came out of church. Perhaps Lord Finchley would attend services.

  “Morgana! Kitty, kitty, kitty,” she called, trying to keep all other thoughts at bay.

  A shaft of disappointment lodged itself in Drew’s chest when he returned to the parlor to find Lady Athena gone. He assumed that she had quit the tea table on some trivial errand and would soon return.

  He found himself eager to observe her. For one moment, due to some trick of the light in the snow, her hair had displayed a tint of apricot
. The thought that he had rejected out of hand yesterday now refused to be dismissed.

  Noting Persephone’s distraction, how often she glanced toward the door, he set his teacup firmly on the table and asked politely, “Will Lady Athena be joining us?”

  The swift glare Persephone shot toward her other sister could hardly be missed.

  Gregory’s brows drew together in a frown. “Is something amiss, Persephone?”

  “Nothing to concern you, Gregory.” Lady Cummins, a woman he found hard and cold, favored them with a frosty smile. “Let me pour you more tea, gentlemen.”

  Drew swung toward Persephone, effectively blocking her mother’s view. “Where has your sister gone?” he whispered.

  “She has gone out in this dreadful weather to search for our cat, Morgana.”

  He smiled at her. “Never fear, I shall return them both to your safekeeping.” He bounded to his feet, made Lady Cummins a graceful bow, and started to the door. “I fear I have misjudged the time. We must be on our way. Thank you, my lady, for a delightful tea.”

  Gregory hesitated but was too bright to tell him nay. He surged to his feet, bowing correctly over Minerva’s and her mama’s hands but clasping Persephone’s small one warmly. “Dash it all, we must be off. My compliments to Cook, and I’ll see you Boxing Day.”

  Drew ran down the front steps of Charybdis Hall, where a groom held the reins of both horses in the falling snow. He whipped a blanket off each of their saddles.

  “Dash it, Drew, where are we off to in such a hurry?”

  “To find Lady Athena. It seems she is out in this storm, searching for Persephone’s cat.” Drew threw himself into the saddle and took up the reins.

  “Morgana! Used to be Athena’s cat, very old. Since Persephone fell ill, the creature spends most of the day on her lap. How did the old tabby escape?”

  Remembering the look Persephone had sent her sister, Drew thought he knew. “That is of no importance. Must find Lady Athena before the snowfall worsens.” He dug his heels into his mount and galloped forward.