Under the Mask: A Multi-Genre Collection

by Monica Corwin

  The door swished open over the deep carpets. "Constance, Euphemia, I see you are keeping my guest comfortable. Hopefully, you are not overburdening her with the latest gossip."

  Ariel sucked in a breath. The timber of his voice and shape of his jaw proved… Her pirate?

  The two women giggled coquettishly, making Ariel stare at them once more. They were in their late thirties as she was, if she didn't miss her guess. She couldn't blame them, really. She felt like doing it herself, and she didn't normally act that way, even when a teen.

  "My Lady. I am sorry you felt unwell in my home. Please allow me to escort you to dinner."

  Ariel gaped at him. "Me? I—"

  "Of course. It is by my express invitation that you are here. I have never shirked my duties and won't deign to start now." He held his hand out to her, in much the same way he had asked her to dance. "I promise on my honour, you are safe here."

  Her eyes flew to his. He did it again. Used safe. Somehow he knew that she'd always had a sense of being unsafe, emotionally and physically, and her husband's treatment of her had worsened it, made her feel less, feeding that sense of insecurity and being unprotected. She slid her hand in his, overwhelmed with a sense of both de ja vu and surreal time passing.

  They left the room to the stunned silence of the other women. As they walked down the hall, he put her hand in the crook of his elbow and covered it with his other hand. "You are doing amazingly well considering you have passed through time and space."

  "It was you.".

  "Yes. I have much to tell you. However, we haven’t much time before being accosted by guests who will want to know more of my Ariel."

  "How do you know my name?"

  "I know much, yet too little. What did you say to Constance and Euphemia about your personal state of affairs?"

  Maybe she should have runaway screaming. However, something magical had happened. She'd walked through the fireplace and ended up here in this whole other world. Fate, the Universe, whatever, deserved for her to give it a chance. A low thrum of excitement underlined her worry about her new situation. So, taking the leap of faith, she told him.

  "Good. We will go with he has been killed in battle. I have been working hard at building a cover story for you. I will tell you all the details I have as soon as we can. However, tonight, we will enjoy dinner together, and you will go home with my mother. My mother has seen a likeness of you and will come to you most informally for our time."

  "A likeness of me?" Again with that damn squeak, but where in the hell would they have seen her picture? Painting. Whatever. "I'm lost. How? Why? What? I don't know where to start."

  "I shall explain as much as I can. For now, I will give you a name you trust. Bethany Townsend. Born in the year of our lord, two thousand and one."

  She gasped. "How…okay. I'll give you tonight and even go home with your mother. Please come see me at the earliest time so that we may talk." People fast approached eavesdropping range.

  "As you wish." His smile dazzled her, and the responding smile she gave him came naturally to her.

  From the moment she'd met him, a part of her soul had sparked, both soothing and enticing, a balm to her much torn emotions from her philandering husband's ways. She allowed herself to be led into a room with the largest table she'd ever seen. It held a veritable cornucopia of glasses, silverware, and glassware—probably real china—for about one hundred fifty people. When she peered past that first table, she saw there were at least three more, though one was smaller and a bit away. They made a rectangle, the sides open for the diners to get to the inside seating.

  The walls, a rich blue with a silver glitz done in an intricate design, displayed nearly up to the high ceilings what appeared to be hundreds of gilded oil paintings straight out of her art book.

  Chandeliers hung from the rafters. So many candles were lit, she nearly thought they were electrical. The glow from the candles through the glass sparkled around the room. However, as her gaze traveled around the room, she realized there were no cords, no lamps, no switches. Simply candles. Hundreds and hundreds of them. Her mind shut down for a moment, and she stopped walking.

  "What is it, Ariel?"

  "I—this isn't a prank." Her mouth went dry. "This really is the past. What year is this?"

  "1814."

  He answered without skipping a beat, and her gaze flew to his. "You don't seem surprised I'm asking."

  "I'm not. Let's move to the head table. You are seated next to me."

  "But…I have no titles."

  "You do. I'll explain later." He threw her a side grin worthy of Harrison Ford at her. "Plus, this is my party and my home, and you are my guest. I shall place you wherever the hell I please."

  With her heart still giddy from his smile, and her head full of questions, she walked with him to the head table which was on a dias and allowed him to seat her. The other diners all came in chatting with their partners, but more than a few glances came her way, some curious, some angry or jealous, and even some surprised.

  She sat as straight as she could and emulated the other women at their table. Introductions were made, but with the way her head swirled, she couldn't retain the information, especially while trying to watch her accent. She managed not to create too big of a faux pas she presumed by their actions, but everything became a blur.

  At the end of the meal, everyone stood up for more dancing. She swayed as they walked into a ballroom. Many people danced. She asked to be excused for tiredness. Lord Montgomery—what else could she call him?—steered her to a kindly looking woman near some plants she was sure had to be from a greenhouse. Or was she? Confusion beat at her temples, forming their own score.

  "Ariel," Lord Montgomery murmured into her ear. "I promise, you are safe, and we will talk. I'm sorry for the short notice, but it can't be helped."

  "Thank you for the encouragement." Something calmed within her at his words and his tone.

  "Mother, here is Ariel. She isn't feeling well. I trust you will be able to take care of her."

  "Of course, Richard. You know I do." The woman's gloved hand reached out and squeezed her forearm, and she winked at Ariel then smiled.

  Ariel blinked then smiled hugely. She'd get along just fine with Richard's mom. "Thank you, my lord, my lady." She accompanied it with a half curtsy, figuring it was safer than nothing.

  Richard nodded his head, his eyes twinkling back at her in approval. "You'll be fine. I do ask for one dance, if you're feeling up to it."

  "I—"

  "The waltz. I can lead you."

  "Oh." Her studies had taught her a bit about waltzes of this time. The Jane Austen fever had hit her daughter, so she'd learned and studied the whole era and taught it to Bethany. And they'd basically waltzed back in her time. A half laugh escaped her at the thought of her own century. "Just one. I am…rusty with the dances."

  "Rusty?" His burrows furrowed as he stared at her, perplexed. "Never mind. I shall be back." He bowed to them then left.

  Ariel turned to the gracious woman beside her. The woman's grey hair sat atop her hair in a fashion she personally likened to Anne of Green Gables. Her clothes, a more sedate version of the styles she associated with the Regency era, were obviously luxurious, even without knowing current fabrics. Current? Past? Whatever. She mentally laughed at herself before answering, "Well, I am thankful for your hospitality, though confused."

  "Hush, now. We will speak more in my home. For now, rest and maybe your headache will diffuse." The woman nodded at a passersby as if to say hi, but Ariel thought maybe it was a hint that others could overhear them.

  "Thank you, again, my lady."

  "Nonsense. It is my duty as hostess. Now, you may call me Anna when in private."

  Ariel sent out a relieved smile with her nod of acceptance. She at least had a bit of a name.

  "Here now, there's Lord Cartwright. Dull as pickles that haven't been pickled. His wife is dull as a mouse's coat. Yet they are much sought after for their
respectability. I'm rather surprised they showed up to this ball. It is rather scandalous for their tastes, being a masquerade."

  Ariel gaped at her. "I'm sorry?"

  "Just a little gossip to pass the time, dear. Helps to keep people straight, you know."

  "I see. Carry on." She listened to her new friend's banter with amusement.

  "Lord Steele, he's just made the most interesting patent regarding the metals. I wouldn't be surprised if he multiplies the family fortunes. Serve the biddies right who wouldn't let their daughters marry him while impoverished. My daughter loves him to pieces. Says they will be richer than the king some day on some newfangled thing or another." Anna looked abashed for a moment. "I don't understand half her talk. She was educated along with her brothers. Something my husband long tasked me for, saying it made her impossible to marry off. She was allowed a love match because of it."

  "That's wonderful of you."

  "Nonsense. I found her a title as old as ours to marry. Money is something I can easily give her. There she is, just a couple of steps behind Lord Steele in that green dress." Anna eyed Ariel's dress for a moment. "You could almost have gone to the same seamstress. This works out well."

  "Gertrude, come and speak with our Ariel for a moment, if you would," she called out.

  Ariel turned beet red as she saw both Lord and Lady Steele—that was the proper address wasn't it? She'd never get it all right—turn and stare at her boldly as they approached.

  Gertrude pulled her into a sort of hug and exclaimed, "You look positively dashing in this color. Mother was right to insist on it."

  Ariel could only stare, dumbfounded. "Yes. Er, of course. Your dress is gorgeous." Holy hell, she was lost. She'd almost added, "and so authentic." Thankfully, she'd had a lifetime of biting her tongue.

  Gertrude then whispered as they drew in close in the hug, "We are all here for you."

  Oh yes, part of the cover, she presumed. If this was an elaborate ruse to reel her in on some prank, it was finely done. However, as each minute passed, the whole surreal thing seemed less and less like a joke.

  "My lady," Lord Steele said and bowed. "Good to see you again."

  "And you, my lord."

  They talked of inconsequential things for a few minutes, then Richard came and claimed her for his dance. "We will dance it the same as we did at your ball, my lady."

  Her eyes flew to meet his gaze.

  "Yes, I know it was but a few hours ago, but I've been waiting for you for years, known of you for months. Time is…our friend, in this case."

  She put her gloved hand in his, and his arm came around her more firmly than before. "I'm not afraid," she said suddenly. And she wasn't. Her mind was having trouble grasping reality, but her heart recognized him.

  He dazzled her with his smile. "Good." Then the music started.

  Chapter Four

  The orchestra played enchantingly. To her anyway. Being too young for ballroom live dancing to be in vogue, she'd nonetheless loved the idea of it. Her soul filled with the vibrations in the air, and the dance flowed through her. He led her, and she followed, keeping his gaze whenever they faced each other. By the end of the dance, she knew she was falling in love. His kindness, his insistence on her knowing she was safe started it. His family's protection also contributed. Instead of blocking it out because she was married, she allowed it in, allowed it to grow inside her.

  Another time and place than her world. A man who wanted her safe. She'd let herself just feel for once, instead of worrying about all the rules and if her husband would leave her. He was off with his mistress in a supposedly open marriage. She'd find a love of her own, someone who wanted her for more than a respectable mare for his kids and a personal secretary.

  He again left her with his mom with a bow, but the smiles they exchanged were intimate. Heat flared in her. "Until tomorrow," he said.

  She only nodded. His mom answered though. "Yes, bright and early. I will be taking Ariel home very soon, so this is goodnight for us as well."

  Relief flowed through her, and she bobbed a curtsy at Richard before following his mother out. It took lord knew how long and a bevy of servants before she found her way out the door with a jacket. Where the jacket came from, she had no idea. From the coat area, she ended up in a carriage with beautiful matched horses pulling it. Well, that tore it. "Definitely not in Kentucky anymore," she murmured. Horse drawn carriages were only done in parades or horse racing around her area.

  Anna laughed good naturedly. "Assuredly, you are not anywhere but good old fashioned England."

  Ariel flushed. "Sorry."

  "I understand, dear. We will talk more in the morning about your new life. First, I'm going to tell you what I think you need to know to trust this isn't a ruse and that Richard and I mean well." She settled back into the luxurious coach. "First, it is your daughter Bethany whom has told us of your arrival."

  "How could she know?" Aghast, Ariel couldn't fathom how her daughter even possessed any knowledge of it, much less communicate it to Richard.

  "It is not for me to say. Suffice it to say that she did. We have spent the last couple months preparing for your arrival. One thing you need to know is this is twelfth November, 1814, London. Well, just outside of London proper, but I believe that by your time it is part of London. We are on the way to my country home on the ancestral lands. I have my dowager house down south, but came for the ball."

  "Twelfth. 1814. Got it." Well, no she didn't, but her brain had long since given up making sense of things.

  Anna's laugh rang out. "I admire your courage. Most people would have fainted or completely lost their minds."

  "I'm fairly certain I've lost mine," Ariel said ruefully.

  Anna waved it away. "Nonsense, child. You're doing fine, all things considered. It took me a while to come to terms with it, and I had written, visual evidence. Your daughter is quite lovely and wants you to have a good life. We know you're married in your time. We know he left you for another woman—frequently. We know his latest is actually cruel to you, and he only laughs and defends the other woman. I am sorry. Though men are allowed their…mistresses here in 1814 with some impunity from the ton, they are not supposed to disrespect the wife that way either. Discretion is to be maintained at all times."

  Bethany knew of the cruelties? Ariel's heart broke into a million pieces. As long as she suffered alone, she could keep going.

  "Bethany makes it clear that you are the injured party and a good wife to him. However, you are not married here in 1814 to that blackguard. You are free to be whom you wish to be. My son has been giving you a life, complete with an old family title. Bethany included your ancestry, and at this time in history, your family wasn't far removed from their royal roots. The Regent knows and has granted the old title as well as added your family's history to the official files."

  "I'm sorry, but can they do that?"

  "Your lineage and history is proven by the papers your daughter sent. It included the medical technology of your time. The Regent is fascinated by science and the push for new inventions, so is more understanding than some might be. Your daughter has been very persuasive. Her eloquence has convinced the Regent that it is God's will and blessing on you for being a beautiful mom and dutiful wife during a difficult time."

  "I don't know what to say."

  "Be grateful they decided it was God's will and not witchcraft. I argued against him going to the Regent at all, but Richard is stubborn-minded when he has his heart set on something."

  Ariel blanched as she recalled some of the history of women branded as witches. "I'm very thankful."

  "I had to read all the letters over for a week before I believed all of it myself. God, providence, the universe, whatever you call it in your time and place, I happen to agree with the Regent. You've been unhappy and making sacrifices for your family for a long time. It's time for some happiness for you."

  "But your son? Why is he doing all of this?"

  Anna turned h
er head. "I cannot speak for him. Suffice it to say, he believes you deserve this chance as well."

  "This is all so surreal."

  "I can only imagine it from your perspective. We'll be at my home soon. You need rest and food. You barely touched your dinner."

  "I was worried about speaking properly. My accent is atrocious. And don't be put out for my sake," Ariel protested.

  "Nonsense. My servants will be up waiting for me. They will be happy to help you. Even if they are not, I pay them enough, they will pretend to be."

  "I don't know what to say."

  "Say, 'Yes, Duchess.' and do what you're told!"

  A reluctant laugh escaped Ariel. "I see I don't have much choice." The carriage rolled to a stop.

  "No, you don't." Anna grabbed her reticle and prepared to step out when her footman lowered the stairs of the carriage.

  Inside the grand home, Anna led her through a labyrinth of hallways to the most luxurious room Ariel had ever seen. Her husband's hotels—his main source of income—only wished they were this opulent. Done in blues, golds and creams, the room oozed peace and wealth. Blue fabrics draped from the four-poster bed, tied to each post. Gold tassels hung from a vast array of blue and cream pillows strewn across the bed.

  "I'll send someone to help you dress."

  "I don't have any other things."

  "You do. They are in the closet. There is something…familiar in the chest, but don't open it until tomorrow when you are alone." Anna left her then, and a servant came in shortly after.

  Ariel stood still while the maid undressed her, shock keeping her silent except for answering the maid.

  "What do you wish to eat, my lady. I can ask them to bring something special, if you’d like."

  "I’m…just whatever the duchess approves is fine with me."

  "Very good, m’lady." She stepped out to the hall, and Ariel heard the murmur of voices before she returned to her tasks.

  "We’re all very curious, if you don’t mind my saying so. Do you have any children?"

  God, how such a simple question becomes a minefield. "Um, two. A daughter and son." Best to stick to the truth as much as possible, she presumed.