A Season of Masks and Masquerades

Chapter 3: The Two Dukes of Dales

All eyes turned towards the grand staircase to witness the most awaited sight of the evening. The silence that covered the hall was deafening and one could not hear anything apart from feeble whispers, stupid twitterings and awestruck sighs.

A sharp man wearing a perfectly edged beard led the party, who Esther recognized as Lord Richcomb, Eleanor Richcomb's husband and the man of the house despite of the mask for his manly shoulders and the most prominent chin in perhaps the entire world. Behind him were two masked men, both tall and stiff. The one wearing a plain grey coat seemed rather elastic, notwithstanding his stringent-looking companion who styled, possibly the most handsome blue coat in the gathering embroidered in silver and gold, although the same couldn't be said about his expressions. He was either, Esther wondered, highly supercilious or perhaps utterly discomfited.

The very Duke of Dales, undoubtedly.

Behind the two men, followed the very graceful Lady Richcomb, outshining all women in the vicinity by her poise not to mention the beautiful white gown that adorned her being. A handheld mask studded with diamonds covered half her face. Her son, the little Henry Richcomb, who was intensely fond of Miss Sherborne almost caught her eye when she ducked right in time to conceal herself behind Miss Lewis to avoid any unfortunate encounters.

Although she loved the child, she did not wish to allow any possibilities of establishing a connection with the kid's uncle, His Grace. Not that she didn't already have enough.

The spectators were mesmerized by the way they all carried themselves. Perhaps it wasn't that very grand. Perhaps the effect was caused by the already existing presumption of their being superior. Or perhaps, the attendees of the evening only pretended to hold them so honourable merely because they were rich and powerful and would make great husbands and family to their daughters.

Whatsoever, it was indeed a fascinating sight to behold however a thing even more fascinating and worth witnessing was the little conversation the two bachelors had in the Duke's room a few moments ago.

A rather confidential conversation.

"You don't look scared at all." Lawrence had said announcing his presence in Edward's room while the latter was examining the white cotton shirt that then draped the trained muscles of his arms finely giving them quite the definition.

"Should I?" He turned around and lifted the heavy blue coat off the bed.

"Judging by the glance I could steal of the gathering and the ladies thereof, I suggest, a little perhaps."

"Whatever do you find so dreadful about the beautiful ladies at a ball?" He said hanging the coat on his torso. "They are but delicate flowers and I am always a man happy to have a stroll around the garden."

"Delicate flowers you say?" Lawrence chuckled. "Look from my eyes and you'll see the most dangerous predators in those mothers out in the open to hunt down the most advantageous marriage for their daughters, who are all but little delicate cubs, waiting desperately to eat you away."

"Pray tell," Edward echoed, walking up to his friend "what should I be in this wild arrangement of yours?" Suspiciously, he took his coat off his frame and hung it on Lawrence's torso momentarily.

"A measly antelope, who possesses but the most delicious flesh." He replied pushing him away with his coat.

"You amuse me, my friend." The Duke laughed lightly. "Take off your coat."

"Beg your pardon?"

"Take off your coat Lawrence, and put this on!" He ordered, throwing his very excellent coat on the bed. "Today, I will try to look through your eyes, let's see how very petrifying those lionesses and cubs are."