A Season of Masks and Masquerades

Chapter 8: The Radcliffe Luncheon

A private luncheon in the woodsy drawing room, with a couple of noble attendees, a small table with a small yet alluring meal surrounded by not more than twelve chairs, a dozen footmen and a mediocre aura. Such were the expectations Esther held for the afternoon at Radcliffe Mansion. A slight variation however, was witnessed when she reached.

Her carriage had to wait in a line behind a few others before she could get off, the unexpected traffic was weird but Esther was too preoccupied to notice, for her head was very busy visualizing the vivid conversation she was about to have with Lord Greycoat, if only the Duke was bringing him along that is. The chances of which was low as it was a private luncheon.

All those thoughts however, were swepts off the front of her mind as soon as she climbed down the carriage. She was certain it was supposed to be a private gathering, which did not explain the crowd at all.

The sun was shining bright but the colorful day dresses were shining so much brighter that she had to look down at her own attire to decide whether to walk in the crowded garden or get back up on the carriage and return home.

Fortunately, Lady Sherborne had an extremely excellent sense of fashion.

Her throat was drying up faster than the champagne glasses around the garden and all the dialogues had disappeared from the tip of her tongue. Her concerns with Lord Greycoat or the Duke himself were long forgotten as she watched Lady Radcliffe walk up to her with her infamous crooked smile. Her floor-sweeping velvet gown dragged along behind her where two sharp looking women, her ladies in waiting most probably, walked carefully ensuring that no one stepped on her hem.

Lord Radcliffe was one of the noblemen of the highest rank in the ton and his gorgeous wife was the most unmistakable representation of his class and authority. Their attires, their accessories, their staff, everything about them boasted of pride and accomplishment. They'd never leave a chance to impart on people their highness and grace. This only proves how foolish it was of Esther to presume she could ever live to attend a gathering hosted by the Radcliffes that was not just as grand as they can afford.

"Miss Sherborne, aren't you the prettiest young lady present this afternoon!" She exclaimed gaily.

"Lady Radcliffe." Esther curtsied. "What a beautiful gathering. You never fail to amaze me with your hospitality."

"Oh, how can I afford to!" She exclaimed yet again, her voice inviting more eyes every time she spoke. Her two ladies in waiting chuckled behind her in agreement.

Esther ran her eyes around the crowded space. She could count as many heads as half the number present at the Duke's ball last night, or perhaps the reduced space caused such an illusion. Whatever the cause, she was not pleased to be surrounded by so many glittery people. Not when she was in such a foul mood.

Speaking of foul mood, her mind reeled back to Lord Greycoat once again. She remembered the face very well, it was sharp and handsome with extremely alluring emerald eyes that burned in darkness and very well-done hair, not that she meant to compliment the man in any way. He was tall too, with a nice build, she'd noticed when he saved her from that fall the previous evening. For one thing, he wasn't too difficult to spot in a crowd.

She was scanning the garden of chattering and tittering men when Lady Radcliffe spoke again. "Why Esther, I don't see your mother."

"My mother?"

"Well, of course. Am I talking about my mother then? She's resting in the heavens by God's grace!" The two ladies started laughing again making Esther realise that it was supposed to be a joke, a rather hilarious one at that.

Esther chuckled lightly as she contemplated that her mother was most probably invited to the luncheon as well. "She'll be here soon, I left early fo-"

"Oh yes!" Lady Radcliffe interrupted, even louder now. "Good Lord, how can I forget! You're here at the Duke's personal invite, aren't you, my dear?"

"Uh?" The entire concept sounded heavier now that she heard it come out of someone else's mouth. It almost felt like she became his wife, and if that was not the most terrible thing. "Yes, yes I am." She added with a pain-ridden smile.

"Why, of course, you are! Come now, I'll take you to him." Before Esther could disparate to anywhere in the good world but this luncheon, her hand was hooked into Lady Radcliffe's and she was being dragged across the garden.

"Lady Radcliffe, um- don't you think we should wait for my mother before the introduction?"

"Introduction?" Lady Radcliffe almost spat while never stopping her strides. Esther couldn't imagine how she managed to walk so well in that gown. "You're well introduced to him! What are you talking about?" The two women laughed yet again and Esther swore under her breath to trample them to the ground if they pass as much as a chuckle once more.

"Indeed, I am." Esther managed a weak chuckle. "Uh, Lady Radcliffe, I- I think I need a drink." She managed to slow their steps down after putting in all her might.

"Well, of course you do! You need two in fact." Lady Radcliffe announced. "Look at you, so pale and sweating."

"Yes, thank you, I'll be right bac-"

Before she could unhinge their hands, Lady Radcliffe conjured two glasses of champagne out of thin air. "Here, have this."

Esther handled the flutes in her fingers as she watched her last chance of escape go to waste.

"Drink it now, don't keep the Duke waiting too long." Lady Radcliffe scolded while her eyes wandered around the place. "He should be here somewhere with Leo."

"Well, don't you think it's too early in the day for champagne." Esther took advantage of her lack of attention and pulled her hand out. "I reckon I shall get some lemonade."

"Lemonade?" Lady Radcliffe repeated, something bright and scary shone in her eyes. "You're absolutely right! You should get lemonade. In fact, the Duke himself left to have some lemonade just a while ago. Ah, let me see..." she rotated slowly on her heels.

"Ah! There they are!" Her frightening voice exploded in Esther's ears. "There's your Duke, His Grace. Go have your lemonade." She prodded with a broad smile, her eyes burned on Esther's.

She turned slowly in the direction pointed to, and indeed there stood a group of three men, one of whom she recognized as Sir Leonardo Radcliffe, the very son of the wickedly loud woman, the other man stood with his back to her while he blocked the image of the third from her vision. Although, that was no more a concern, as she was now walking up to them and soon enough she was going to be able to have all their fortunate acquaintances.

She wanted to scream, yell, run, be lost and never come back. All anyone cared about was her meeting with the Duke. That was what her mother cared about, even her brother, who delayed his travel for her to meet the man, her only best friend, Lady Radcliffe, and even that God damned Lord Greycoat.

As if on cue of her thoughts, the man with his back to her moved slightly allowing her to get a glimpse of the one standing against him, and for a fact, it was not the most pleasant of faces she'd seen that day.

Lord Greycoat, in all his glory.

He was laughing heartily on something, the drink in the flute he held splattering in joy when their eyes met. The air froze in that moment of cold hate. Esther was going to kill him and she did not intend to keep it a secret anymore.

He was better at getting hints than she had expected for a man as unfaithful. He whispered something short and quick in the ears of the gentleman standing against him, who if she wasn't wrong was the very Duke of Dales and in a matter of seconds, he along with Sir Leonardo Radcliffe was walking away towards the buffet that stood many meters away.

Why that happened, was beyond her understanding, but she was glad it did. She wanted to avoid the Duke and she needed to catch Greycoat alone more than that.

Things would've been so much better had he done as he was told. Only if he had stayed firm on his words as a man of honour should. If only he hadn't betrayed her so plainly. Or at least if he was going to be so loyal to his friend, he could've at least not lied to her. But he stabbed her in the back and she was not about to take it lightly.

As she approached the man with faster steps, he welcomed her with an irritatingly handsome smile which would've made her lose pace and go weak had this not been so serious. But this was a matter of loyalty and betrayal and little did he know, his handsome face was about to do him, no good.