Lady Eugenia's Holiday

by Shirley Marks

  Eugenia had only dreamed of this kind of notice. Never did she imagine it would truly happen. A dashing, masked man bowed, took her hand, and escorted her to the dance floor.

  “Speak for yourself, Genie,” Penelope called to her while passing with a dance partner of her own.

  They spent a good part of the masked portion of the ball amusing themselves with the young men. Eugenia could not say any of the gentlemen struck her as memorable—they all looked too similar. Nor could she swear that she did not dance with any of them more than once.

  “I do not believe I can stand up for another set.” Trying to catch her breath, Cynthia stood stock-still next to Eugenia. “Refuse them, Genie, refuse them all!”

  Eugenia laughed at her friend’s edict. The two masked gentlemen approaching the ladies halted when she waved them away, refusing their attention.

  “Where is Penelope? Is she still dancing?” Cynthia glanced around and laid her hand on Eugenia’s arm, steadying herself. “Or has she returned?”

  “Somewhere, out there,” Eugenia gestured to the dance floor, “is Penelope among the dozens and dozens of prancing couples.”

  They stood quiet for a moment, watching the guests.

  “Were any of the gentlemen you danced with noteworthy?” Cynthia’s attention remained fixed on the guests stepping about in time to the music. Perhaps she was still searching for signs of Penelope.

  “I must confess, without the benefit of seeing their entire faces, they seem much alike. Can you say any one gentleman has gained your favor?” As Eugenia waited for an answer, she felt Cynthia grip her arm more tightly.

  Cynthia’s eyes widened behind her mask and a strange look came across her friend’s face. The odd thing of it all was, Cynthia wasn’t looking at her. Her stare passed over Eugenia’s shoulder and stretched far beyond where they stood.

  Curbing her half-curious, half-terrified, completely overwhelming feeling on confronting the apparition, Eugenia turned slowly to see what had attracted Cynthia’s attention. All of a sudden, she faced it … him.

  She felt as if time drew to a standstill. There was a man. A tall, slender, dark-haired man with a stray lock curled upon his forehead. A man worthy enough to inhabit one of Eugenia’s fantasies.

  He made his approach, moving with such smoothness and grace across the room. His cape billowed around him and the mask obscured half his face. His mouth, in a dreamy half smile, greeted Eugenia.

  The piercing, intense gaze from his dark eyes captured hers. Eugenia felt her neck warm and her cheeks flush. Incapable of movement, she did not think she could have fainted even if she had wanted to.

  Once she’d laid eyes on this stranger, Eugenia had not drawn a single breath. Then, ever so slowly, movement from the people around them began.

  His hand reached out for her. All this felt as if it were happening for a very long time, which proved most fortuitous. It gave her ample opportunity to put to memory the intricate engraving of his gold signet ring.

  As soon as he took her hand, Eugenia felt as if her feet had left the ground. He took her into his arms and she felt as if they floated on air across the dance floor. The entire incident seemed very fuzzy, as if it were a dream. But she knew it all to be quite real.

  After their dance, he placed a kiss upon her hand and uttered a polite thank-you. He turned from her, strode off the dance floor, and exited through the door from which he had come.

  Just like that … he was gone.

  Chapter 3

  Who was that man? Eugenia wished she knew!

  Penelope rose Eugenia out of her surreal stupor to tell her it was time to remove their masks. Eugenia was anxious to do so and discover the identity of her stranger.

  “Did you see him?” Eugenia anxiously asked Penelope. Penelope? Where had Cynthia gone?

  “See him? How could one not see him?” Penelope replied in equal excitement. “Dearest Genie … he was so … so …” But words failed her.

  Although he seemed very real to them, when they made inquiries about him to the other ladies, they did not seem to recall seeing this mysterious dark-haired man.

  That was impossible.

  Eugenia was certain that if the other guests had seen him, they would certainly have remembered him.

  She was grateful Penelope had seen him at the end of their dance. Cynthia, who was the first to see him, watched as he and Eugenia had stepped onto the floor. It reassured Eugenia that she was not going mad, had not brought him to life from her fertile imagination.

  As she and Penelope walked back to the ballroom, Eugenia fanned herself. Just talking about the stranger caused her face and neck to warm.

  “You must find him,” Penelope told Eugenia. “If it is the sole accomplishment of the evening you must know who that man is. And I shall do all I can to help you.”

  With set determination, they strolled into the grand room together. On arrival, they noticed straightaway that no one was dancing. The guests stood silent, staring toward the musicians, the pianist in particular.

  Cynthia sat next to her mother in the front row. At the pianoforte, Herr Mueller played a piece Eugenia had never heard with great flourish and in exquisite form. A small part of Eugenia regretted being tardy and missing the beginning of his performance.

  “We are most fortunate, Genie,” Penelope whispered to Eugenia. “We have an excellent opportunity to study all the gentlemen in attendance.”

  Indeed, all the guests stood or sat quietly, listening to the musical performance, making the task an easy one. Eugenia’s gaze passed over the females standing among the gentlemen. She moved her attention from one gentleman’s face to the next, looking for the familiar features she thought she remembered so well. He was nowhere to be seen.

  Just as Franz put the finishing touches on the musical piece, Eugenia saw him standing in the far doorway that led into the card rooms.

  “There he is!” Eugenia whispered and indicated the man across the room.

  Penelope saw him immediately. He was leaning against the open door frame with a contemplative, gold-ring-adorned hand to his face.

  “It is him.” Penelope stared wide-eyed at him. Perhaps she thought he would disappear if she should blink.

  “I wonder who he is?” Eugenia couldn’t help but be curious. He looked to be someone of great consequence. If that were true, why would someone such as he single her out for a dance?

  “I think you should find out,” Penelope said with a tight smile. “That gentleman made quite a dramatic display to gain your attention. It is only fair that you should let him know he has done so.”

  Penelope’s tone implied that what she really wanted to know was why Eugenia and not her? To tell the truth, Eugenia could not help but wonder that too.

  He must have felt Eugenia stare at him. He returned her gaze along with an amused smile. Leaning toward his male companion, the stranger whispered to him.

  Penelope dropped her fan open, hid the lower half of her face, leaned in, and whispered to Eugenia. “You need to lure him to you.”

  “What?” Eugenia fingered her fan, preparing to follow Penelope’s instructions.

  “Open your fan,” Penelope repeated. “Draw it toward your face and gaze at him over the top.”

  Dropping her fan open, Eugenia glanced at her friend, checking to see if she was applying the fan correctly. She made the movements slow.

  “Now tilt your head … and turn away from him ever so slightly.”

  Eugenia turned her shoulder and coyly dropped her gaze before abruptly returning her attention to his face. Even she knew that such obvious flirtations to one whom you have not been properly introduced would be considered scandalous.

  “You need to let him know you are interested in making his acquaintance,” Penelope urged.

  Eugenia’s actions seemed to have amused him. An absolutely sinful smile passed over his lips. Her message had been received.

  “Well done!” Penelope praised Eugenia with a squeeze to her arm. �
��I believe you have successfully intrigued him. It looks as if he may be on his way here.”

  The music ended only seconds later. The guests milling about obstructed her view of him for the next several minutes. When the center of the room began to clear, Eugenia saw quite clearly that he moved in her direction.

  She could feel a knot begin to tighten in her stomach. Eugenia wondered what had possessed her to take such daring action and tried to keep her wits about her.

  Eugenia kept glancing at Penelope in a silent plea for help, but feared the kind of instruction she might receive. “Whatever am I going to do?”

  “Why, Genie, you’re going to introduce yourself.” She smiled, seeming quite at ease.

  Penelope left Eugenia gaping at the impropriety. She tried to catch her breath, still her heart, and settle her nerves before his arrival.

  The throng of people thinned before her. Eugenia watched the two gentlemen continue their passage across the floor. The stranger’s approach varied from his last.

  During the first, Eugenia could see an almost predatory glint in his eye that entranced her by its sheer determination. This time, he merely strolled across the floor in a calm, casual approach.

  He moved with the grace Eugenia vividly remembered. His arms swung by his side in perfect rhythm. His legs were long; he crossed the room in no time at all. His exuding self-confidence and refinement be spoke his breeding. She would not be surprised to learn that he was a gentleman of some consequence.

  His intense stare should have frightened her. It was his dark gaze that first drew her attention, then her curiosity. Eugenia felt compelled to speak to him, with or without a proper introduction.

  “Allow me to make myself known to you, ladies.” Something about his voice sounded familiar … perhaps it was from what she could recall of the few words he had uttered to her on the dance floor.

  Eugenia could not bring herself to look from him and glance toward the card room in search of the Master of Ceremonies or Aunt Rose to do the honors. How she had wished for a proper introduction.

  “Thomas Mallick.” The stranger sketched a bow. “Duke of Rothford.”

  Eugenia was suitably impressed, as was Penelope by her soft, sudden intake of breath.

  “My friend,” he turned and gestured just so to imply the gentleman next to him, “The Honorable Donald Hamby.”

  Eugenia dipped a curtsy and introduced herself and Penelope in turn.

  “So very pleased to make your acquaintance.” Mr. Hamby bowed over Penelope’s hand, then Eugenia’s.

  “May I suggest we remove to the refreshment room to remedy my parched throat?” Rothford suggested and he offered Eugenia his arm.

  She hesitated but Penelope had already accepted Mr. Hamby’s escort and strolled past. Eugenia could not very well remain standing with the duke as their friends walked away. She took his arm and they followed.

  The two couples found the refreshments and each partook of a glass of punch. Their conversation consisted strictly of socially acceptable, polite subjects and never neared a topic of a questionable or personal nature.

  After a good half hour of pleasant conversation, the duke interrupted with sad news. “I am having such a delightful time, and I am quite distraught that I cannot stay to claim a dance. I am afraid Mr. Hamby and I must be off.”

  “Oh?” Was this some type of masquerade mystery game that they should deny they had shared a dance?

  “Do you plan to attend the public tea on Sunday?” Rothford asked Eugenia.

  “Well, we hadn’t thought much about it,” she answered.

  Penelope leaned in. “I shall do all I can to persuade her that she must be present, Your Grace.”

  “Excellent!” Mr. Hamby remarked, quite happy with Penelope’s answer.

  Rothford then replied, “Perhaps we shall see you two lovely ladies there.”

  The gentlemen made their farewells and left.

  “Of course he wants to meet you there,” Penelope said with complete confidence.

  Eugenia wasn’t so certain. She thought he behaved exactly how a well-mannered man would, nothing more.

  “A gentleman in his position cannot show partiality,” Penelope stated. “He cannot appear anxious for your next meeting, even though he might have feelings to the contrary. I’m sure it must be as apparent to you as it is to me that he is more than overwhelmed at the thought of seeing you again.” She showed more far more delight than the duke had. “It is so beyond … anything! He is a duke, Genie!”

  “I am aware of that.” Simply holding the position of duke did not secure her affection.

  “How can you not be thrilled?”

  “It’s just that I find his reaction to me lacking.” How Penelope could imagine that he showed any type of enthusiasm regarding Eugenia was beyond her.

  “Do you not see that he must show some semblance of discretion?”

  Was Eugenia to presume his less-than-stellar response was due to decorum and was only a pretense?

  “You shall see,” Penelope remarked with a nod. “We will just have to show some patience and wait to see how matters between the two of you progress.”

  We? Was not Eugenia the one, not Penelope, being pursued by His Grace?

  Eugenia and Penelope were again beseeched to stand up with several gentlemen. They did the pretty. As Penelope reminded Eugenia, “We can hardly disappoint them, can we?”

  After the first dance set, Herr Mueller made his appearance in the ballroom. Eugenia was pleased to see him. Penelope made sure they did not cross paths.

  “Is he not très gauche?” Penelope whispered confidentially to Eugenia. “It is one thing to share a few words with him at the library or to even sit next to him at a small dinner party, but to be seen at a large public assembly … We must think of our reputations.”

  Eugenia was less concerned about being seen with Franz and wondered how tarnished her reputation would be by keeping company with Penelope.

  “He is so … out-of-date. At least one hundred years!” Penelope wrinkled her nose as if she had detected some unpleasant odor.

  “I really do not think he is all that old.” Eugenia suspected he was no more than five years her senior. She had to admit it was difficult to see the true nature of the man behind the brocade, powder, and rouge.

  “That wig makes him look positively ancient! I cannot imagine how—”

  As luck would have it, Aunt Rose took this most opportune time to interrupt. “It is time, Genie.” Aunt Rose held out her hand for Eugenia.

  This fortunate action spared Eugenia from being subjected to Penelope’s never-ending list of the talented Austrian’s failings on a personal level.

  “Perhaps it is best you leave. You should thank your aunt for her early departure. I would.” Penelope glanced at Cynthia and Franz who were heading in their direction. “It will save you from that horrid little man’s uninteresting and endless discourse.”

  That night Eugenia had the most wonderful dream. She danced all night in Rothford’s arms. Alone in the ballroom, on the deserted dance floor, the well-mannered duke abandoned the formal behavior he had displayed when they finally met.

  She could feel the strength of his arm and the warmth of his hand on her back, holding her against him.

  He wore the same mask. It hid the upper half of his face. Only the dark, sculpted curls atop his head and his lips were exposed. She reached up and stripped the mask away, only to find another in its place.

  She all but exhausted herself making repeated attempts at unmasking him, only to fail. It felt heavenly to be in his arms, except she could not help but wonder who the real man behind the mask was.

  Penelope insisted she and Eugenia visit Cynthia that very next afternoon to relay their discovery that the masked man at the masquerade was none other than the Duke of Rothford.

  Cynthia had barely settled on the sofa cushion in her family’s turquoise and gold parlor before she asked, “Is he truly a duke, Genie?” Her wide-open eyes f
ocused on Eugenia for an answer.

  “You should have been there, Cynthia.” Penelope gave the account of how the Duke of Rothford and his companion, the Honorable Donald Hamby, became known to them. It had been a critical gathering that Cynthia had missed. “The Duke saw to the introductions himself.”

  Cynthia gasped, covering her mouth in shock. “Say he didn’t!”

  “He did,” Eugenia replied, not at all thrilled to make the confession. Penelope’s version of her meeting with the Duke had more than a mere ring of gossip.

  “And Genie shamelessly flirted with him,” Penelope leaned forward to whisper.

  “You didn’t!” Cynthia drew in another quick breath and stared at Eugenia, shocked.

  “She did!” Penelope appeared to enjoy adding her salacious enhancements wherever she could manage. “She used her fan with such skill.”

  “I was following your instructions!” Eugenia exclaimed in her defense. She was not the one who had the knowledge of such things.

  “I did not hold a loaded pistol to your back,” Penelope returned rather sharply. “I was only trying to help you do what you must.”

  Eugenia looked away. Perhaps she ought not to have done it but that was beside the point. This was too cruel a reminder of her untoward behavior of the night before.

  “But he did seek you out.” Cynthia glanced to one side, apparently lost in deep consideration of Eugenia’s circumstances. “And he made himself known to you, without a proper introduction and without the permission from your aunt. What if he should prove unsuitable?”

  “Unsuitable?” The notion never occurred to Eugenia.

  “Cynthia, he is a duke!” Penelope reminded her. As if one holding a title could not be loathsome and dishonorable in any way.

  “There are those families who seek a wife’s fortune to replenish their own. He would not be the first.”

  Eugenia blinked. “I have no fortune.”

  “But you do have a dowry,” Penelope pointed out. “How much would Lord Langford’s daughter bring?”

  “He may not know. Then again, he may not care.” Cynthia maintained her dubious air. “Perhaps he is overwhelmed by your beauty.”