Phoebe slowly exited the carriage even as Genevieve tugged her hand, urging her towards the door.
“Remember,” her cousin said, “Should you find yourself wandering outside with a suitor in tow, you need only knock upon the door three times to be granted readmittance to the”
“Oh, that shall not happen,” Phoebe laughed, scandalized.
“Well, if it should, three knocks will allow you to rejoin the party.”
Genevieve demonstrated how to rap sharply upon the door three times right before she tugged her mermaid-themed mask down and into its proper place.
Her cousin had selected this mask because she meant to mimic her favorite creature from books she had hungrily read as a child.
The mask displayed delicate pearls lined along the eyeline, and deep, blue whorls of colors mimicked waves along the bridge of her mask’s nose. With shaking hands, Phoebe pulled down her own mask right as the door opened.
This evening, with the aid of her costume, she presented herself as a fox, with sharp, bold lines that framed the holes around her eyes, making her own blue eyes look more striking than ever.
White and orange fabric framed the mask, causing her face to appear a lot more structured than it was. With the mask sitting securely and snuggly on her face, Phoebe knew what it felt like to be an invisible force floating into a room.
I am no longer the youngest daughter of the Earl of Tripleton, Lady Phoebe Webb, but instead I have become?—
“And you are?” A voice dragged her focus to the doorway, where Genevieve had disappeared through. Instead, the shadowed silhouette of a man leaned against the frame.
Who are you, Phoebe, for you already know you feel different?She asked herself.
“Vanessa Delamere,” she answered automatically, the name rising to her tongue without the least bit of effort.
Perhaps because she had just been thinking of the books that inspired Genevieve’s costume for the evening, some of Phoebe’s favorite characters rose to mind and she combined the names of heroines who struck her as being particularly daring.
“I am Vanessa Delamere,” she stepped forward, faking what little confidence she could muster.
Their host, Lord Spencer, swayed in the doorway. He leaned against the doorframe like a lifeline and grinned at her as though he knew he was being given a false name.
“Well, then, do feel welcome, Miss Delamere. Come on in, Lady Fox,” he said.
She scrutinized Lord Spencer for a fraction of a second longer than propriety allowed. He was shorter than the average gentleman.
Leaning against the doorway in such a languid manner did little for his stature, or his authority for that matter. At least he wore a mask that was bejeweled with outrageously large rubies, which was rather unique.
Phoebe tried to make sense of his all-black garments coupled with the opulent mask, but she could not decide what he meant to be.
His costume is hard to decipher, yet he easily created a nickname for me based on my choice.
She snorted softly.
Lady Fox.
Phoebe did not care for the moniker, but she clung onto the alias she’d given in place of her own. The two heroines who supplied the name had always held a place in her heart.
They were fearless and far braver than she had ever been. Vanessa had been a merchant’s daughter who had sneaked away to a make-believe world, one of card games and prizes and a dark, beautiful villain.
Delamere had been a notorious family name belonging to a group of people who lived in the heart of a deep forest, a gathering of hunters.
When she had first encountered the text, Phoebe had been enthralled by the lack of propriety a woman showed by wielding a bow and arrow as naturally as she ought to hold an embroidery needle. Phoebe had been inspired by the Delamere family who did all these bold, brash acts, while she could not.
“Thank you,” she answered, stepping into the long hallway of the modest townhouse.
Lord Spencer did not offer her his hand, instead he straightened his stance, called upon by another guest, and disappeared around the doorway. Phoebe kept her eyes on his retreating figure, utterly perplexed by the strange man.
This is certainly no ordinary ball of theton.
