by Joyce Alec
“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 wonder, 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.”
Chapter Two
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 expected 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.”
Sarah stared at me, mouth agape.
“I cannot even explain it,” I went on. “I have never felt anything like it before. It was as if I have known him all my life.”
“But you do not even know his name…” Sarah repeated, more sadly this time. “Is that not infuriating? Do you not want to know who he is?”
“It is quite strange, but that has not bothered me quite as much as I thought it would. Something is awfully romantic about the mystery, is it not?” I grinned, resting my chin on my hands. “If we truly are meant to be together, and I believe we are, then we will find each other again.”
Sarah rolled her eyes, but she smiled at me. “It is terribly romantic, I must admit,” she said. “And I am quite impressed at your boldness, sister.”
“Boldness?”
“Kissing a man all like that,” she replied. “Now I understand why you wished to keep this a secret from Mother and Father.”
“They might think that something more has happened, or fear that someone might consider me tainted.”
Sarah nodded. “It was only a kiss, though…”
“Exactly,” I replied. “Even still, Mother and Father would certainly never understand. It would be considered a scandal, and Mother would cry, and Father would scold me…”
“It does seem to be wise to keep that from them.”
“It is not that I want to lie to them,” I insisted. “I just do not believe they would understand the connection that he and I have.”
“No,” Sarah agreed. “They probably would not.”
I continued. “When I finally do meet him properly, and we become engaged, then we can all laugh about it together.”
“True,” Sarah said. “It is not as if you are going to keep it from them forever.”
“I am just not going to cause them any undue stress.”
“Good,” Sarah said. “Yes. This is a good plan.”
We both sat back in our chairs and stared into the fire.
“I do not think that I had ever heard of a more romantic encounter,” said my sister, her voice wistful. “Not even in a storybook.”
I beamed at her. “It was more perfect than I could have imagined.”
“And during the Christmas season,” she added. “It is the most magical time of the year.”
“It is like the most wonderful dream,” I said joyfully, sighing. “I do not think that I have ever been quite so happy.”
And then the two of us dissolved into a fit of giggles, laughing so hard that tears filled our eyes and our breathing came in gasps.
We both jumped when the door to the library was opened.
Father stepped into the room, buttoning one of the buttons on his jacket.
“There you are, girls,” he said, smiling at us both. “Grace, my dear, could you please come with me to my study before you go with your Mother into town? There is something very important that I need to discuss with you.”
I exchanged a nervous glance with Sarah.
“Of course,” I said, rising from the chair. My voice was stronger than I felt.
He turned and walked out of the library, and I followed closely behind him, fearfully wondering if he had somehow overheard everything I had just told Sarah, and what consequences would be awaiting me if he had.
Chapter Three
My father’s study was a finely furnished room. Dark mahogany bookshelves lined the back wall, and his desk was adorned with carved ivy and leaves. Overstuffed red velvet armchairs faced the desk, and a large window overlooked the back garden. It smelled of warm leather and ink.
I had spent many hours as a young girl tucked into those chairs, watching him answer letters and read. He always allowed Sarah an
d I to sit there as long as we were quiet and read our own books.
But as I now sat down in one of the armchairs facing his desk, it was with apprehension instead of curiosity.
Father seemed unaware of my discomfort as he took the seat behind his desk, clearing a few books from his view and then looking across at me.
“Well,” he said, “you are probably wondering why I requested this time with you.”
The tips of my fingers were frozen with nervousness, and I forced my hands to stay still in my lap.
He smiled at me, and then he brandished the letter in his hand. “I received this letter this morning, and I think its contents will interest you greatly.”
I relaxed. He did not know about the masked man. I could not have been happier.
“Why do you say that, Father?” I asked, sitting up more comfortably in the chair.
He unfolded the letter, and after putting on his spectacles, he began to read.
“Lord Graystone
I was pleased to receive your letter. All is well here, and we hope that your family is in good health. After our discussion, I do believe we should move forward with the union. We know that our son will see the match as an amiable one. We also would love to accept the invitation to further discuss this with your family for Christmas dinner…”
He looked up at me expectantly. “The rest of the letter is business, nothing you would find enthralling.”
“Who sent the letter, Father?” I questioned.
“Lord Walford.”
My eyes widened, my heartbeat quickened.
“Is that…” I took a deep breath. “The Marquess of Walford?”
“It is indeed,” Father said pleasantly, refolding the letter and laying it down on the desk.
My mouth had gone dry. Match? Son? It could not mean what I thought it might, not after everything that had happened…
“Is the letter talking about Sarah?” I asked hesitantly, despite already knowing the answer.
He laughed softly. “No, my dear. It is about you.”
“I…” I began, shifting uncomfortably. “I do not understand.”
“Lord Walford and I have been in discussions about a possible union for months,” he said, as he patted the letter affectionately.
