The Corinthians Series: Rules of Masquerade

Chapter Twenty Three

Chapter Twenty Three

The crowd hushed for a moment, a stilled second of unified awe as they all turned their heads to the resplendent form of Charlotte Alistair standing high above them: beautiful, provocative and captivating. William watched silently as Charlotte glided down the staircase and into the crowd. Woman around her parted like the red sea while the few gentlemen rushed in to fill the gap. Not three minutes had passed since she arrived; Charlotte was already holding court on the skirt of the room with men stumbling for her attention. Young bucks fawned over her and the little chit did nothing to spurn their advances. Her smile was dazzling and her eyes, he swore from where he stood, he could see them sparkle. William slowly felt annoyance creeping under his skin like an itch.

“Do you know she is the spitting image of her mother?” His grandfather continued to twitter pleasantly.  “The late countess used to attract men in droves before she married Harold Alistair. The moment I saw Charlotte Alistair three years ago, I knew she would be perfect for you.”

With great effort William dragged his eyes from his fiancée and regarded his grandfather. “You couldn’t have chosen anyone more fitting grandfather.” He replied sardonically. Or anyone more beautiful, more frustrating or more infuriatingly dazzling.

The duke bobbed his head and turned to Lorelei, tonight dressed in a pretty shade of blue with matching sapphire earrings and necklace. “Yes, of course she was still seventeen then. But I knew she would be a good match for your brother so I waited. Oh, I remember it like yesterday! It was Marquess’s Linford party hosted in his Northumberland estate, a masked ball if I recall right. I saw her walked down those stairs that night with her father standing next to me. Old Harold Alistair almost had a heart attack seeing his seventeen year old girl, gliding down into the party with her mama’s dress and mask.”

William had to restrain himself from scoffing. Of course, it is simply quintessential of Charlotte to gatecrash a party at seventeen and in disguise! “And from that you assume she would be a suitable candidate for a marchioness?”

Sensing the sheer sarcasm radiating from his grandson, the duke rebuked. “I assumed that she would be the right girl to keep you on your toes boy.”

“I was in attendance of that party.” Loraine said.

“So was I.” William confessed. He remembered the Linford’s masked party all too clearly.  

Lorelei tapped a finger to her lip, thinking hard. “However, I cannot remember seeing Charlotte there. I would have recognized her.”

The duke chuckled good-humouredly. “Can’t you? The girl made a huge hubbub coming in as Helen of Troy.”

Time stood still for a moment and William swallowed hard. “Helen of Troy?” He croaked.

His heart beat doubled. Just then, as if by some miraculous act of God, the music paused and William heard the titillating laugh of his fiancée which jolted a series of silent memories to come flooding in.

The black hair.

Those mesmerizing silvery grey eyes…

He was an idiot. A massive, blind-as-a-bat idiot.  

It was Charlotte.

It was Charlotte all along.

 “Yes, I remembered men flocked her like bloody pigeons. Nearly caused her father’s an aneurism too.” His grandfather nodded and smiled. William on the other hand, was effectively floored. Brushing his hair back in desperation, William sighed long and hard.