The Season (Season Series #1)

Chapter 22: The Masquerade (Part 1)

"I'm to remind you that you're playing the part of a foreign ambassador's daughter tonight," Anne said, as we hurried along the corridors, back towards the entrance hall. Miss Claridge followed behind us on silent feet.

"I think I can manage that," I said, catching a glimpse of my utterly altered reflection in a mirror.

"You'll have to accent your voice, or minimize your talking when the other debutantes are around," Anne said, as we neared the entrance hall.

"I think I'll manage," I said, slipping effortlessly into a flawless recreation of Vile Edith's American drawl. Anne looked over at me in surprise and I shrugged with a smile.

"My brother and I do it when we want to tease our horrid sister-in-law," I said, maintaining the American accent. A grin sprang to Anne's face.

"Well it's excellent," she said, stopping to grab me into a hug before we emerged into the entrance hall, "Enjoy yourself!"

The two butlers manning the doors bowed to the princess before I handed over my invitation. The one reading it nodded to the other and they opened the doors for me.

My breath caught in my throat as the music overtook me, the whirlwind of colours twirling around the dance floor almost hypnotizing. Before I could begin to doubt myself, I strode in, gulping back my apprehension.

I'd never been invited myself alone to a ball before. I'd always attended as Ella's lady in waiting or as my mother's daughter. Never had I been more alone, but never had I been more free to enjoy myself however I pleased. My disguise provided the anonymity to do whatever I wanted tonight without having to face the consequences, a bizarre kind of freedom I'd never felt before.

I descended the stairs to the marble floor, taking in the spectacular costumes. The ball was filled with older nobles and their families, the debutantes and male courtiers the only members of the Season allowed to attend the first night. The debutantes were easy to pick out from the crowd, their features each distinctive enough to recognize them through their costumes. There were a number of other young women in attendance, likely the daughters of other nobles that had not been selected to participate in the Season - thanks to them, I wouldn't stand out as much.

I paused at the base of the stairs, unsure where to go next. Overtaken by the splendour and opulence of the ballroom, I'd nearly forgotten that the sole reason I was attending was to warn Andrew about Ashley. There would be balls enough in my future, but I had to make use of my disguise to finally speak with him alone.

The waltz ended and the dancers bowed to their partners, a flood of people entering and leaving the dance floor. I skirted the edge, realizing I had no idea what kind of costume I was looking for. I spotted Ella in her bright white costume, laughing with James who was dressed in a boring set of black tails made interesting only by his spectacular silver mask. The two of them had eyes only for each other, not letting go of one another as the rest of the dancers selected new partners.

Ashley Mayfair flounced past me, her peacock mask thoroughly appropriate. Her dress was a marvel, with the peacock feather motif carried throughout. Deciding that following her would be my best way to locate the prince, I shadowed her path until she paused at the edge of the dance floor. She tossed her cascading curls as Penelope Roxton, covered head to toe in a rich, red satin, whispered to her. The two of them were watching where Sarah had just risen from a curtsey in front of a costumed gentleman.

Andrew's eyes met mine and the world stopped around us.

While he was masked too, his a silvery gold that rose into spikes mimicking a crown atop his forehead, he was unmistakable. His navy blue jacket was embroidered in gold and he barely gave Sarah a second look as he strode towards me. I was rooted to the spot, my breath caught in my throat. Ashley and Penelope simpered as he approached, turning nasty, curious looks my way as Andrew breezed past them.