One Enchanted Evening (Marriage by Fairytale Book 2)

by Ruth Ann Nordin

  “Well,” she began as she pushed her thoughts away, “I’ll let you in on a secret. Ladies worry about what they’ll say to gentlemen they might one day marry, too.”

  “They do?”

  By the tone in his voice, she could tell he didn’t believe her. “Yes. Ladies aren’t born knowing what gentlemen want to talk about. All they know is that what interests a lady often doesn’t interest a gentleman.”

  He considered her words. “I suppose ladies and gentlemen have different interests. But that makes it harder to know what to say, doesn’t it?”

  “Even if they generally have different interests, there are some things they can both like. Not all ladies are the same, just as all gentlemen aren’t the same. The key is to find something each person is interested in and focus on that.”

  “How does a person go about finding out what that is?”

  “My advice is to ask her what she’s interested in. There might be something in that list that you’re also interested in.”

  “And if there isn’t?”

  “You could tell her what you’re interested in and see if she shares any of those interests.”

  He nodded. “I’ll have to make a list of things I’m interested in when I get home. Then I won’t forget.” He glanced around them again then asked, “What if it turns out we have nothing in common?”

  “If you’re attracted to her, ask her questions about herself, like what kind of books she likes to read and what she likes about them. You can ask her anything you want to know.”

  “I should make a list of questions to ask while I’m writing down my interests. These are all good ideas. Maybe I’ll make the list before I leave. I’m afraid I’ll forget them.”

  “If you do, you can always talk to me.” She mentally kicked herself for hoping he would forget just so that he would seek out her advice again. She’d love any excuse to talk to him again.

  He gave her a nod of thanks, took a few steps down the hall, but then turned around and came back to her. For a moment—just a brief moment—she had the fantasy that he was going to wrap his arms around her and kiss her. She quickly swallowed the lump in her throat and reminded herself that such a thing would never happen.

  “I was wondering…” He offered her a sheepish smile. “I realize these balls aren’t for maids. It’s just that talking to you just now made me feel a lot better. If you were there at the ball, I think it could help. It’s a masquerade ball, so no one even has to know you’re there except for me.”

  “And you think that having me there will make you feel more at ease?”

  “I know. It sounds silly. But just knowing you’re in the same room will help me not feel so anxious about the whole thing. If you would come over to me at some point and say hello, it’d be even better. I’ll be wearing a dark blue mask with matching clothes. Mr. Bachman is insistent that I look just right.”

  She glanced down at his yellow cravat, red shirt, yellow waistcoat, and green breeches. It was funny how she hadn’t noticed what he was wearing before. But then, she’d been focused on his handsome face, those tender green eyes, and his wavy blond hair that just begged her to touch it. Plus, he’d talked to her. Really talked to her. He had confided in her about the ball. And then he had paid her such a lovely compliment by saying how much better he’d felt after talking to her. Why would she bother taking note of something as insignificant as what he was wearing?

  “Will you be there at the ball?” he asked, bringing her attention back to those heart-melting green eyes.

  “Well, I do have a gown suitable for such an occasion.” Never mind she hadn’t worn it in years. It might not even fit anymore, but she could always mend it.

  “Do you need a mask?”

  She shook her head. She wasn’t going to tell him that Patricia had just given her one. That would make him wonder why since he didn’t know how close she and Patricia were. He assumed she was nothing more than her lady’s maid.

  “What do you say? Will you be there?” he pressed.

  She should say no. It was the smart thing to do. But he had a way of looking at her that made her feel like she had to do what he wanted…even if it meant it would lead him to another lady.

  She cleared her throat and nodded. “I’ll be there.”

  “Good. I know it’s unusual for someone to make a request like this, but you’ve been kind to me. In London, I don’t often come across people who are kind like you are. They’re usually wrapped up in what they want. That’s why I come out here so much. It’s a nice escape.” His face turned red, and he cleared his throat. “Forgive me. I tend to ramble at times.”

  “I don’t mind.” It allowed her a little more time with him, and she rather liked the soothing tone in his voice. She’d let him ramble all day if that’s what he wanted to do.

  “That’s nice of you to say, but I’ve already taken up enough of your time. I’m sure you’re busy with other things.” He smiled. “I’ll see you at the ball.”

  She returned his smile before he spun on his heel and hurried down the hall to the drawing room, looking much happier than when he first arrived at the manor.

  Chapter Five

  Lewis was desperate. He had to be desperate if he was seeking out the help of Patricia’s lady’s maid. But he didn’t have anywhere else to go to for advice. The gentlemen in London thought he was ridiculous for worrying over what he should say to the ladies coming to the ball, and Stephen and Patricia seemed to think everything was going to fall right into place as soon as he stepped into the ballroom.

  There was no one—absolutely no one—who understood just how difficult this was for him. Talking to gentlemen was one thing. Talking to ladies with the intent of picking a wife was another. And it seemed that only the lady’s maid under Stephen’s employment had any sympathy for him. That was her way, he supposed. Ever since he’d met her, she’d made it a point to see to his comfort. Whether it was helping him with his coat or offering him something to drink, she’d just been there.

  Granted, it was embarrassing that she knew of his predicament. He hadn’t been all that happy when Stephen and Patricia had blurted it out right in front of her. But since she knew, he figured he might as well seek her advice. After all, what did he have to lose? It wasn’t like she was in London so she could tell other servants how inept he was when it came to matters of a romantic nature.

  And even if she could, he had a feeling that she wouldn’t. He suspected that she would keep the information to herself. He had no way of knowing why he suspected that. Maybe it was in the way she smiled and spoke. She had a gentle quality about her. It reminded him somewhat of his mother who’d been the kindest person he’d ever come across. His mother used to listen to him without passing any judgments. He’d been free to be himself with her. She would accept him no matter what. He had the feeling that Marcy was the same way.

  That was why he had asked her to attend the ball as one of the guests. He realized it wasn’t something maids did. But having her there would be comforting to him. It would remind him that someone in the room wasn’t going to find fault with him when he stumbled through the evening. More than anything, he didn’t want to embarrass himself. But he didn’t know if that could be helped. If he did, however, embarrass himself, he had the consolation of knowing there was one person who wouldn’t be laughing at him.

  He immediately criticized himself. Stephen and Patricia wouldn’t laugh. They would be sympathetic. It wasn’t fair to them to dismiss them so easily. But still, it was nice to know there would be someone there who had the same sweetness that his mother had possessed.

  All of these thoughts were circling in his mind that evening as he ate with Stephen and Patricia.

  “You’re unusually quiet this evening,” Stephen told him at one point. “This ball must be worrying you more than I expected it to.”

  “You’re not excited?” Patricia asked, turning surprised eyes in Lewis’ direction.

  “If he was excited, he’d be ra
mbling on about something,” Stephen answered for him.

  “Everyone will be wearing a mask,” she said. “I thought that would help make things easier for him.” She directed her gaze to Lewis. “I don’t understand why that doesn’t put your mind at ease. Even if you say something that embarrasses you, no one else will know it’s you. I’d be worried if someone knew it was me, but since that won’t be the case, then I don’t see why you’re worried.”

  “Maybe it’s because you don’t have to pick someone to marry,” Lewis finally replied since she seemed to want an answer.

  With a heavy sigh, Lewis picked up his cup of tea and nearly drank half of it in one gulp. He wished it was wine. Wine would help relax him. But he really didn’t want to drink anything alcoholic right now. He was far too nervous about Saturday that he’d probably keep drinking until he got drunk, and he made a vow to himself that he would never get drunk again. Getting drunk was what had prompted him to make that stupid business decision that cost him all of his money. Now he only had what little his brother had left.

  “What if I talk to each of the available ladies first?” Patricia offered.

  Stephen shook his head.

  “Why not?” Patricia asked him. “I think it’s a good idea. I could decide whether or not she’s got a lot of money and a sweet temperament. Then I could lead her to Lewis.”

  “That’s why you can’t do it,” Stephen answered. “After you do that a couple of times, the other ladies will realize what you’re doing.”

  She considered his words for a moment then her shoulders slumped. “I suppose you’re right.”

  “Of course, I’m right.” Stephen turned his gaze to Lewis. “You need to stop telling yourself that Saturday will be horrible. Thinking like that will only guarantee it will be. If you tell yourself something often enough, you’ll believe it. Trust me. I know.”

  “Don’t you think I know that?” Lewis asked. “But just because I know that, it doesn’t make it easy to make myself feel it.”

  “I understand,” Stephen said, his tone sympathetic. “What you need is to be with a lady who sees the best in you. That’s what Patricia did for me. If it weren’t for her, I’d still be trapped in the prison of my own making.”

  Stephen looked over at Patricia then, and there was a smile that passed between them that told Lewis these two were probably the best matched couple in London. He couldn’t recall coming across any other couple who were as happy.

  Lewis lowered his gaze to his plate, forcing aside the sting of envy he felt. He had to marry for money. He didn’t have the luxury of marrying for love. There were some things titled gentlemen didn’t get to have, and this was one of them. Well, this was what he got by drinking too much. This was a predicament of his own making. He was just going to have to deal with whatever happened Saturday evening.

  ***

  Marcy couldn’t believe she was doing this. When she’d left her father’s estate, she’d promised herself that she’d never wear the pink gown again. This was the gown she’d worn at the ball her father had thrown for her when she turned fifteen. That was six years ago. A lot had happened in six years.

  She steadied her breathing then turned to the mirror to see how she looked in the gown. Thankfully, it still fit. And it was in good condition. In fact, if she didn’t know any better, she’d swear it was brand new. She’d carefully preserved it. She’d only taken a few of her things from the past when she fled her father’s estate, and this gown had been one of them. But then, the gown had sentimental value. It’d been the last time her father had shared a dance with her.

  She closed her eyes and concentrated on her breathing. One, two, three, four… And slowly, her breathing returned to normal. The tears had abated. She swallowed the lump in her throat.

  Tonight wasn’t about the past. It was about the present. She’d made a promise to Lewis, and though she was about to watch him marry another lady, she couldn’t bring herself to let him down. Tonight, on this one night, she was going to step back into the role of a duke’s daughter. She remembered the dances. She remembered the curtsies. She remembered the pleasant topics that were meant to pass the evening with people she hardly knew.

  It was funny how quickly her old life could come back to her. In some ways, it felt just like yesterday when she’d let her own lady’s maid get her ready for the ball. Instead, she’d just finished getting Patricia ready.

  As soon as she got to her small room, she had styled her hair. Along with her gown, she’d tucked away the pins that had once been her mother’s. Her mother had died shortly after she turned fourteen. She had fond memories of these pins. She used to put them in her mother’s hair. Her mother had thought it silly that she do that since there was a lady’s maid to do it, but her mother had beautiful blonde hair that Marcy enjoyed brushing and styling. And she’d been good at it. Her mother had complimented her often, saying she did a better job than her lady’s maid had.

  Again, Marcy had to will that part of the past back to where it belonged. Lewis. This night was about helping him. He was anxious. He needed someone at the ball he felt comfortable around. There were few things worse than being stuck alone in a room with a lot of unfamiliar people who couldn’t care less about you.

  She released her breath. For this one evening, she wasn’t going to be a lady’s maid. She was going to be Lady Marcy, the daughter of the Duke of Edmondstone. She turned her attention back to the mirror, making sure everything was in place. And it was. Her hair was perfect. The gown was perfect. Her matching slippers were perfect.

  There was only one thing left. She picked up the mask Patricia had made for her. This was the thing that was going to allow her to blend in with the others. She slipped it on. She turned to face the mirror again.

  Good. No one would know her real identity.

  Before she could talk herself out of this foolish plan, she left her room. She snuck around the servants’ quarters, glad the ball distracted the staff so that she didn’t come across anyone.

  Her heart was racing to the point where she felt a wave of dizziness come over her. At one point, she had to stop and lean against a wall. She could do this. She was only stepping into this role for the evening. She could handle one evening. Tomorrow, she’d go back to being the maid.

  Once she regained her composure, she continued on down the hall. She made it to the doorway that would take her to the hallway that led to the ballroom.

  She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. I can do this. It’s only for one evening. No one will know who I am. Releasing her breath, she opened her eyes. Then she opened the door and took a step forward.

  ***

  Lewis scanned the crowded ballroom. He couldn’t believe how many gentlemen and ladies Stephen had invited. He knew Stephen and Patricia thought it would help him if he had a lot of ladies to choose from, but it was turning out the opposite was true. There were so many, and they were all wearing beautiful gowns. Expensive gowns. All of them probably came from wealthy families.

  It should make the task of approaching any one of them easy. He just had to go up to one and start talking. No one knew who he was. He’d only told Marcy what he’d be wearing so she’d be able to spot him in the crowd. Well, Stephen and Patricia knew what he was wearing, too, but they were on the other side of the room at the moment.

  Why did the task of finding a wife have to be so difficult? If only he was as outgoing as Stephen. Stephen never had trouble talking to ladies. He’d never had trouble talking to anyone. In fact, he’d come up to Lewis a few years ago and started talking to him as if the two had known each other for ages. Before Lewis knew it, he was playing cards with him. From there, the friendship naturally developed. Lewis hadn’t expected it. It’d just happened.

  But tonight, he had to make the first move if he was going to secure a wife. He couldn’t stand in the corner of the room all evening. That wasn’t going to get him anywhere.

  He scanned the room again. He didn’t even know where to st
art. Maybe he should pick a lady who had on his favorite color. Since everyone was wearing a mask, he had no other criteria to go by.

  Red. He liked the color red. Especially when it was with yellow. Did any of the ladies in the room have on red and yellow? He studied the gowns. He saw some yellow gowns. There were also some red ones. But there was no mix of the two. Well, that didn’t make things any easier. Not when he now had to choose which lady with a red gown he could pick.

  “Are you bored?” someone asked him.

  He turned around and saw a lady wearing a white mask and a pink gown. “Pardon?”

  “You seem bored,” she said. “You’re not dancing or talking to anyone.”

  “Oh. No, I’m not bored.” That was a lie. “Well, yes, I am. But it’s my own fault. I’m not doing anything.”

  “Would you like to do something?”

  “I’m not sure.” And that was a large part of his problem. He couldn’t make up his mind about anything because he was afraid that no matter what he chose, he’d make the wrong decision.

  “We could dance.”

  “Dance?”

  “Yes. Dancing can be fun.”

  He glanced at the people who were finishing up the current dance. They did seem like they were having a good time. “I suppose it would be a shame not to have at least one dance,” he admitted. Especially since his friends had gone through the trouble of getting all of this set up just for him.

  The music came to an end.

  To his surprise, the lady took his hand and led him toward the dance area. This had never happened to him before. But then, a lady had never come up to talk to him, either. Not unless her life was in danger.

  The lady stopped him when they reached a good spot. “I think a dance will help you relax.”

  “You can tell I’m nervous?” She could tell that even though he had a mask on?

  She offered him a sympathetic smile. “If it helps, I’m nervous, too.”