by Joyce Alec
The mysterious man and I had much more in common than I could have ever expected, and I found myself attracted to him. His eyes sparkled as he spoke to me, and he told me about his love of books and fencing. His voice was smooth, like velvet, and his hands were gentle around my waist.
“I just love Christmas,” I said with a sigh as we spun in a circle in time with the music.
“It is simply delightful,” he replied, beaming at me.
“This year has been the best by far,” I went on. “My sister has come of age and is able to attend the balls with me.”
“How wonderful,” he said.
“It has been the most magical evening.”
“Would you like to see something else rather special?” he asked me.
My eyes grew wide. “I certainly would.”
He took my hand and led me toward the back of the ballroom. He threw open the doors and we stepped out onto the cold terrace. It was entirely empty apart from the two of us, at least for the time being.
I saw small puffs of air hung in the air between us as I murmured my awe of the gardens stretching before us. Sculptures of ice dotted the landscape, surrounded by flowers and fountains. Stone benches stood beneath them, and a few guests strolled between them, arm in arm. The terrace itself was round, with candles along the rail, and a single strand of mistletoe hanging from the ceiling in the very middle.
It was breathtaking.
He led me to the very middle of the terrace, directly beneath the mistletoe. We could still hear the music streaming out through the doors leading back into the ballroom, but it was much softer, much gentler.
“May I have one last dance?” he asked quietly.
“I thought you might never ask,” I replied, and I allowed him to sweep me into a close spin.
“My lady…” he began a few moments later, his voice like silk. “I have had the most enjoyable time with you this evening.”
My heart was swelling as he spoke. Had he just said the very same thing that I had been thinking?
“Coming to this ball, I feared that my night would be wasted, as I do not always find ladies that capture my attention as you have. And then I met you…”
He spun me in a slow circle before drawing me back to himself. The candles around us made his eyes sparkle brightly, as bright as the stars overhead.
“You are the most beautiful woman here this evening,” he said.
“How do you know that, truly?” I asked, grateful that my mask covered my blushing cheeks. “You do not know what I look like.”
“I do,” he replied. “Your hair is like the fading sunset, rich and comforting. And your eyes are as bright as the warm sea, your soul as strong as the waves crashing against the shore. All of this I can see without needing to fully see your face.”
“My lord,” I said breathlessly. “You are making me blush…”
“I only am speaking the truth,” he insisted. “Your soul is far more important. And the mask that you wear, as beautiful as it is, is allowing me to see right into it.”
My hands trembled as he held them in his own. His eyes searched my face, and he smiled at me as if it were the first time he did so, as if he had never smiled at anyone else before.
He leaned in closer to me, and I found that I did not pull away. I did not even want to resist. In fact, I welcomed it. Heartily.
My heart raced, my breathing came in quick, small gasps. My palms grew moist, and my eyes widened.
“My lady,” he murmured. “I…”
“We…” I began to reply, but the words faded away like wisps of smoke in the wind. I could not think clearly. A small voice in the back of my mind attempted to warn me of something, but I could not be bothered enough to care to think about it further.
He leaned in even closer, and all I could see were his eyes, all I could hear was his breathing and the beat of my own heart in my ears. I could smell the cold in the air and the lavender from the soap I had washed my hair with earlier that day. Everything was moving slowly around me, as if time itself had stopped.
And then we closed the distance between us, both of us leaning into each other at the same moment.
His lips were warm against mine, which were cold and trembling. But he was gentle as he pressed them more firmly to mine.
An explosion of heat rose up from inside of me. I leaned into him, embracing the kiss, ignoring the sensibilities inside of me telling me how dangerous this was. I did not care. In that moment, it did not matter.
As soon as the kiss had started, it was over, as we pulled away from one another. I sought his eyes, his piercing gaze, to see if his heart had just split in two like mine had. He stared down at me, and I could see his soul as clearly as he must have seen mine. That kiss had meant just as much to him as it had to me.
And then reality washed over me. The truth of what had happened hit me square between the eyes. I could still feel the echo of his kiss on my lips. I could feel his hands at my waist.
He had kissed me. And I did not even know his name.
As if the same thought had passed over both of our minds, we stepped away from each other, both of our faces flushed. If anyone were to see us, they would assume it was due to the cold. But the two of us would know the truth.
“I—” he began.
“Well—” I started at the exact same time.
We stared at one another, and we fell silent.
“I should return inside,” I said. How was it that I was suddenly at a complete loss for words? My head was swimming, and I needed some space. I needed to understand what had just occurred.
“Of course,” he agreed, and smiled as he bowed.
I hesitated, and before I went back inside the doors, I turned back to him.
“My lord?” I asked.
“Yes?” he replied quickly, excitedly.
“I had a wonderful time this evening.”
He seemed to relax. I did not want him to believe that I was angry with him. In truth, I was just as involved in the kiss as he had been. I had wanted it. I had allowed it.
“I did as well,” he said.
And then, before I dashed across the terrace and kissed him once more, I returned indoors.
I found my sister, Sarah, who immediately recognized something had happened to me. She commented on the color of my cheeks, and I insisted it was the cold. She asked who it was that had been my dancing partner.
In shock, I realized that, even after the kiss, I still had not asked him his name. With a small flush of surprise, I realized that he had not asked me my name, either. My sister was not satisfied with my answers, but I just smiled at her, and told her that was the fun of the evening, was it not? Everything was a mystery.
I saw him as he walked back into the room a short time later. His eyes scanned the dance floor until he found mine, and we stared at one another from across the room, the dancing couples in the middle passing between us.
The night was winding down, and some of the guests began to make their way back to their carriages and then back home. I could see Mother and Father bidding their farewells, and Sarah began to complain that her feet grew tired.
I caught the eye of my mystery gentleman once more, and he stared at me just as intently as I stared at him.
It would have been unwise to leave that night and not know the man’s name, I decided. I knew that if I left and never discovered who he truly was, I would forever regret it. Perhaps I knew him, and we could have a nice, friendly laugh about it. Or perhaps I would not find him very attractive, and I could move on with my life, knowing that our encounter was a one-time experience.
But I honestly wished to know if he was as handsome beneath that mask as I believed him to be. Fear made me question if he was a single man, an honest and upstanding gentleman. Racing emotions made me believe that he was my soul mate.
I fought with myself, back and forth, wondering what would be best for both of us.
Eventually, I decided it was better to know than to wond
er, and so I set off through the ballroom, among the remaining guests, looking for the mysterious gentleman and his black mask.
I found friends of mine, many of whom echoed the very questions that my sister had asked; who was the man that had danced with me? I simply smiled in reply, and was greeted with giggles.
My Father found me standing on the terrace, my arms wrapped around myself against the cold night air.
“Come along, darling,” he called, “it is time for us to go home.”
I sighed heavily, glancing up at the mistletoe once more.
I smiled.
“Coming, Father.”
I followed him back inside, through the ballroom and into the foyer, where the maids returned cloaks to the guests as they made their way out.
I supposed that the mysterious gentleman must have left before I had, or had perhaps been looking for me at the same time I had been looking for him, and we had simply missed each other.
“Something is truly different about you,” Sarah commented as we climbed back into the carriage, the cold winter wind growing stronger. Her green eyes glinted behind her silvery mask adorned with stars.
Mother and Father were engrossed in their own conversation as we pulled away from the house.
I looked happily out the window up at the large estate.
“Perhaps you are right,” I replied. “This has been a very interesting evening.”
2
I was sure that I had never been more content in my life.
My dreams at night were filled with music and dancing with my mysterious gentleman. I spent blissful days humming, waltzing through the house without a care in the world. Nothing at all could disrupt my happiness. Not a thing.
“Darling, you are in an extraordinarily good mood this morning,” Mother said to me at breakfast a few days after the ball.
I nodded as I continued to hum, beaming. I took a piece of buttered toast from the platter in front of me.
Sarah narrowed her green eyes as she looked more closely at me from the other side of the table. Father was at the head of the table, opening a few letters that the butler had brought inside.
Mother smiled at me, her warm teacup between her thin fingers. “This is the third day in a row. Ever since that ball…”
“Mother, you know that I just adore Christmas time!” I replied heartily, breaking my biscuit into small pieces. My appetite was much to be desired, but who needed food when such happy thoughts filled my head?
“Oh, dear, I know. But something is…different.”
Father grunted from the other side of the table. Sarah bit down on a biscuit, her eyes scrutinizing.
“Oh, Mother, I do not think anything is different.”
She was entirely correct; everything was different. But I could not exactly tell any of them why. Just imagining the look on Father’s face if he knew what had happened between my mysterious man and me…it was just too much to bear.
I felt my cheeks redden with heat and a smile split my face. I attempted to hide it by taking a long draw from my teacup.
“Oh, while I am thinking about it, would either of you care to join me later today when I go into town?” my mother asked. “I am purchasing a new dress for our Yuletide dinner.”
“I would love to come with you, Mother,” I answered without hesitation. “I could even help you by going and fetching the ribbon you might need while you shop for a new hat, or perhaps even some new pearls.”
“That is quite helpful indeed, my dear,” Mother said, a pleased look on her face.
I shook my head. “I just know that looking for ribbons is a tedious task.”
“Grace…” Sarah began, her fork piercing a potato rather forcefully. “Would you care to join me in the library after breakfast? There is a book that I would like to show you.”
I hesitated, my cup lifted to my mouth, the hot liquid pressing up against my lips.
“Of course,” I replied brightly after I finished my tea. “That sounds wonderful.”
After breakfast, I followed Sarah up the winding stairs, down the hall, around the corner, and into one of the towers of the estate. She threw open the thick, oak door and stepped into the room with large, tall windows wrapping around the walls.
A warm, mature fire cracked and flickered merrily in the fireplace, and candles were lit on the mantlepiece.
Sarah rounded on me as soon as I stepped inside.
“You have been avoiding me and my questions for days. I will not have it any longer,” she said, her blonde curls bouncing. “Not only that, but you have been overly helpful. You even offered to take the clean laundry up to your room.”
She arched an eyebrow at me.
“You are humming constantly, I do not think you have stopped smiling since we left the ball, and I caught you dancing with one of your own dresses yesterday.”
I crossed my arms over my chest. “Dear sister, how long has it been since you have asked me to meet you in the library?”
That took her off guard. “I just…” she began. She straightened her shoulders. “I knew that you would understand that it was important that we spoke in private.”
I grinned at her. “How old were you when we used to come up here and talk about Lord George? Ten, or maybe twelve years of age?”
Her cheeks flushed. “That is not the point.”
“Is it not? Are you not confronting me about a young man?”
She glared at me. “Grace, something happened at that ball, and I want you to tell me what it was.”
It was the very thing I had been hoping to avoid for days.
“I know that it has something to do with that gentleman that danced two sets with you. Do not think that people did not notice,” Sarah, the younger sister, continued. “The one with the black mask.”
It was my turn to blush, but I turned away from her before she could notice and lowered myself into one of the chairs beside the fire. I held up my hands, my palms toward the fireplace. Snow fell peacefully outside the windows.
Sarah let out a sigh of exasperation and came to sit on the chair opposite mine. She looked at me expectantly, her lips pursed together.
“Sarah,” I started, “you understand that you are not only my sister, but also my dearest friend, do you not?”
She tilted her head ever so slightly. “I do understand that. Which is why I have been so confused about your silence these last few days.”
I did not know how to respond to that.
“Which is, in turn, why I know that something happened between you and the masked gentleman,” she went on. “Because you are acting like a fool in love, and you have not said a word to me. I know you better than I think you believe I do. It also helps that you are about as easy to read as a book.”
I considered her words for a moment.
“If I were to tell you what happened…” I began eventually, staring intently at her. “Then you must promise me that you will not tell anyone. Not anyone. Not Mother. Not Nanny. And especially not Father.”
Sarah’s face lit up like a Christmas tree. “I was right…”
I pressed on. “I am serious, Sarah. You must promise me that whatever I say to you will stay between us.” I gestured to the library around us. “Our old rules apply in this situation. Whatever is said in this room does not leave these four walls.”
“You are making it sound like your story is worthy of a scandal, sister,” Sarah said. “Surely nothing truly horrible happened.”
“Nothing horrible…” I confirmed. I lowered my voice. “But certainly something that our parents would be none too pleased to hear about.”
Her eyes widened and grew bright. “Grace…what did you do?”
I sat back in the chair, and my happy smile crept back onto my face. “Well, the man in the black mask and I shared a wonderful conversation on the dance floor.”
Sarah replied, “Everybody noticed you two dancing together. You should have heard Lady Stephanie absolutely gushing about it. She had expec
ted him to ask her to dance…” Sarah then looked at me, ashamed. “I do apologize. Please continue.”
“No matter,” I reassured her. “We were dancing and talking. And Sarah, he is just perfect. Never have I met a man with such intellect, such an understanding of life. He is wise, courteous, and quite amusing. I was caught off guard.”
“Such a man seems like an impossibility,” Sarah said. “How could he have no flaws?”
“Perhaps his endearing charm is his flaw,” I joked. “You see…he asked me if I wanted to see something special. I, of course, said yes, and he led me out to the terrace.”
“I watched you leave with him,” Sarah said, leaning toward me, her eyes sparkling and intent. “Were you alone on the terrace?”
I nodded my head. “Yes. It could have been quite scandalous if were caught. Other couples were in the garden, but can you believe that we danced beneath a sprig of mistletoe?”
“No!” Sarah replied, a wonderful listener to my story. She covered her mouth with her hands in disbelief. “You are not telling me that—”
“He told me I was the most beautiful woman at the ball, and how he could see my soul in my eyes…”
“Charming, indeed,” Sarah added.
“And then…” I said, feeling breathless once more. “He kissed me.”
My sister gasped. “No.”
“Yes!”
“Grace! Did you allow him to?” Sarah asked, sitting up straight in her chair.
I broke into a fit of giggles, trying to hide them behind my hands. “I did! And Sarah, I do not regret it!”
“What?”
“Not even for a moment,” I added.
“Grace, you do not even know the man’s name!” The shock was paling her cheeks, and I was certain that her brow could travel no further up her pretty face.
“Is it not just absolute insanity?” I asked her. “I have just been beside myself these last few days.”
“What was it like?” Sarah asked, her voice dropping.
“It was…wonderful,” I answered honestly. “He was a perfect gentleman. Kind, gentle. Terribly romantic.” I sighed happily. “The strangest thing is that I believe it surprised us both. There was an intense connection between us, as if we were meant to meet that night…as if our entire lives led up to that ball when we would find one another.”
