Captain Chilberlain swung his feet to the floor and looked across the table at the Earl. “Soothcoor, I fear our evening fate is sealed. And it might prove to be interesting,” he finished, casting a glance Stefton’s way.
Soothcoor turned to contemplate the Marquis. His friend was behaving strangely. Did he realize it? It might be that Stefton had finally met his defeat. In all events, Chilberlain was correct. It would prove vastly amusing.
Catherine followedher aunt and cousins up the steps before the Oakley townhouse. Lady Oakley’s ball would be her first appearance in Society. Now the game began again in earnest, and she felt disquieted at the notion. Her gown and appearance were everything she could have wished for her masquerade, yet she did not feel satisfied. She was restless, ill at ease, and faintly disappointed.
In the entrance hall, she was slow to release the fastenings of her cloak, hesitant to unveil the girlish creation her aunt deemed appropriate: a plain white muslin gown under a white gauze overdress trimmed sparsely with white rosettes joined by silk ribbons in a garland effect. It was a pretty enough dress for a young girl with china doll looks. On Catherine, though, the gown's stark whiteness made her countenance sallow inappearance, and the dress’s youthful design was a painful comedy on her nearly two-and-twenty years. She was a figure of fun. Unfortunately, it did not augur well for sinking into the background and not calling attention to herself for good or bad.
Susannah looked at her anxiously. Catherine returned a wry smile as she finally consigned the cloak to the footman’s keeping. She straightened her shoulders and indicated with a sweep of her hand that her cousin should go before her in the procession they made up the grand stairway to the ballroom above. Catherine knew that her dear sweet cousin was also having doubts as to this masquerade of hers. Susannah worried for her in what Catherine considered an endearing fashion. She was touched, but her resolve remained firm.
Catherine pulled her lips back into a studied smile without warmth touching her eyes and concentrated on her surroundings.
The stairs they slowly climbed behind others waiting to be announced hinted at opulent grandeur in the rooms above. The railings were gilt, the walls painted with peacock feather designs in bold blues and greens with touches of gold and purple. Wall sconces were intricate brass designs of snarling animals.
The little effigies amused Catherine, and soon she found herself relaxing and smiling easily at their whimsical construction. She did not know how her natural smile lit her face, compelling those around to look at her closely. There was intelligence and animation in her visage that outshone the poorly-chosen gown she wore.
When she entered the Oakleys’ ornate ballroom, its rose and gold decor and Chinese dragon chandeliers enchanted her. She stared at them in fascination.
“Catherine!” Aunt Alicia said sharply.
“Yes, ma’am,” Catherine responded with alacrity.
Lady Harth scowled, then raised an eyebrow at her niece. “This, Sarah, is my niece Catherine Shreveton, poor Ralph’s daughter. Catherine, Lady Oakley.
Catherine curtsied, then looked up into the face of her hostess. A tall, slender woman beamed back at her. “Ralph’s daughter? I do remember him—handsome, lighthearted fellow. Always one for a good joke. Went up north and married, didn’t he? So you’re his daughter, are you? Don’t look like him, but I’d wager you have his sense of the ridiculous,” she concluded, casting her eye over Catherine’s attire.
Catherine reddened and cast her eyes down for a moment.
Lady Oakley clucked her tongue. “Pretty blush. Alicia, you’ve deplorable taste in clothes. Run along now and enjoy the ball. We’ll talk at supper or some such time. Gracious, the line’s all the way to the door. A squeeze!” she crowed delightedly. “My ball is a squeeze,” she said, grabbing Catherine’s arm impulsively just as Catherine turned to go, “and so early in the Season. Couldn’t be better.”
Lady Oakley dropped Catherine’s arm and blinked owlishly at her through her wire-rimmed glasses. “What are you standing there for? Get on with you now. Shoo, shoo.”
Lady Harth sniffed disdainfully at Lady Oakley’s eccentric manner, then gathered her nieces to lead them into the ballroom.
Bemused, Catherine followed. Never had she met a person quite like Lady Oakley in dress or manner. It occurred to her that it was the heretofore unknown existence of people like Lady Oakley that had prompted her family to claim she’d led a sheltered existence.
She looked back at the tall, gaunt woman. She was dressed in an outlandish mulberry silk gown trimmed with black embroidery at the hem and across her narrow breast. Her cap was of mulberry velvet accented with large curling black-and-white ostrich feathers that bobbed and swayed frantically as she greeted her guests. The entire assemblage was set at a rakish angle on faded red curls. About her neck she wore a gem-studded dragon necklace which echoed the outlandish oriental decor of her home and confirmed that her favorite motif was dragons.
If people like Lady Oakley were to be her experience in London, then perhaps she’d been too hasty in condemning the metropolis. No matter, her current guise allowed her the opportunity to observe, she decided firmly. She sat down on the settee Aunt Alicia indicated, calmly folding her hands in her lap.
An hour later, when Susannah came to her side, fanning herself after the exertions of a fast-paced contredanse, Catherine still sat there. Her back was beginning to ache from the stiff upright posture she maintained, while her feet treacherously ached to join the sets that formed and move to the rhythm of the music.
“I wish you would not sit here, hidden behind all this profusion of flowers,” Susannah complained.
An amused smile tugged at Catherine’s lips. “This is where Aunt Alicia placed me. Do you get the feeling that if neither she nor anyone else sees me, then perhaps she can forget my existence? Even for a while? Good heavens, I can’t see her threading her way through this maze of flowers to my side, can you?”
Susannah shuddered. “There would be water and flowers everywhere.”
“Precisely.”
“Oh, but, Catherine, it isn’t fair,” Susannah softly wailed.
“Oh, pooh. It is what I’ve always claimed I desired. And it is amusing to watch the antics of Society. Do you know people do the strangest things when they think no one is watching? What is really amusing is how anyone could believe they are notnoticed in a crowd this size. They act as if they are secluded. One gentleman and lady put me quite to the blush with their fondling. And they were standing just over there, in that corner of the room!” Catherine pointed to a shadowed corner framed by large columns carved to resemble palm trees.
Susannah laughed. “I know what you mean. It makes me wonder why we’re so often told to be carefully circumspect in all our actions lest we disgrace ourselves and be barred from Society. But come, I know you must be tired of sitting here so long. Accompany me to the punch table, for I am dreadfully parched and in need of refreshment.”
Smiling, Catherine stood up, and for a moment, her face was framed by an array of spring hothouse flowers placed in vases set on tall pedestals in front of the settee. She hooked her arm through Susannah’s, and they made their way toward the punch tables placed in an alcove along the opposite wall.
Stefton, Captain Chilberlain, and the Earl of Soothcoor had arrived but minutes before, and many a maiden turned her eyes in their direction. Stefton ignored them all, his eyes searching the assembled company, his face set in a mask of cold hauteur to discourage casual conversation with any he passed.
