In fact, she was surprised that her heart still ached for what had once been. Or what she had thought they had shared, which was why she needed to remind herself that what she had once believed they shared had been a lie. Not only was Seth not worthy of her love, but she could never trust him.
Thank goodness he rarely went into Society, for Frances feared that she’d spend all evenings away from the house looking over her shoulder for fear that she may encounter him again.
Blast! Her hands had even begun to shake when she looked into his eyes from across the theatre.
“I do love a masquerade,” Bethany announced from the opposite seat.
Frances had not been informed that she would be attending the masquerade ball until she arrived at her new home yesterday afternoon. Bethany had provided her with a mask, which would have to do since Frances had no costume. However, she did wear her most daring gown—one that she had commissioned but had not been bold enough to wear to a Societal ball regardless of her status of wallflower spinster.
Even now she wondered if it had been a mistake and if she was too exposed.
When the footman opened the door, Bethany’s brother, Viscount Shrewsbury, stepped from the conveyance and Frances, suddenly overcome with nerves, leaned toward her friend.
“Are you certain my dress is not too risqué?” she whispered to Bethany.
“No! You are simply not used to wearing something that leaves your shoulders practically bare and more of your bosom exposed.”
Frances placed a gloved hand against the swell of her breasts above the jewel-toned bodice.
“It is too much, is it not?”
Bethany laughed. “No, it is not. I have seen similar cuts at several balls.”
“Not on misses,” Frances reminded her.
“Yes, on misses,” Bethany argued. “Just not those fresh from the schoolroom, which you are not.”
Frances had not been fresh from the schoolroom for several years. “I have wanted to wear this gown…” Then she grinned as she straightened her spine, decision made. She may be a wallflower but she was no shrinking violet. “And so I shall, and enjoy myself for the simple reason that nobody will ever know who I really am.”
Ah, anonymity did bring a new perspective. She would enjoy herself tonight and further, she would put Lord Seth Claxton from her mind. He was the past and she was embarking on her future.
“Masks are removed at midnight,” Bethany reminded her.
“Is that a requirement?” Frances asked with some worry.
Bethany cocked her head. “I am not certain.” She shrugged. “Besides, you may not even care by then.”
She most definitely would care, Frances was certain, and would find a reason to be gone before the clock struck midnight.
Bethany reached out to her brother and stepped from the carriage and onto the walk. Frances followed by placing her hand into Shrewsbury’s so that he could assist her. And even though he was masked, she knew his eyes were on her bosom when she bent forward. Heat scorched her cheeks, but she would not turn back now. Bethany was correct. She’d seen several similarly cut bodices in the past and it was time that she stopped hiding and dressing with the same modesty of a miss enjoying her first Season.
The three of them stepped through the entrance, decorated with Corinthian pillars and gilt lamps, before they were directed to the grand salon where the ball was being held. In the expanse between the doors and the opposite end of the saloon where the orchestra played, stood dozens of people in various costumes dancing, laughing and talking.
This ball was far more festive than any that she had attended in Society previously and she wondered if it was because identities were hidden. It was the only conclusion that Frances could reach as she had never attended a masquerade ball before.
Bethany slipped her hand around her arm and pulled her to the side of the room where they passed tiers of red-covered benches before entering the billiard room, where Frances was quite surprised to find women playing as well as gentlemen. She barely had a moment to watch the game before Bethany pulled her into another where various games of chance were taking place.
It was in a card room at a ball that Frances had met Bethany and Tessa, and it was often the first place she visited during a ball to see who was playing and which games.
There were few women within the room tonight and the gentlemen turned and noted their presence when they entered. However, it was not from them that Frances had the sensation of being watched and when she glanced about, she noted a troubadour from days of old watching her. It was quite unnerving, as well as thrilling. She could not see his eyes very well because of the mask but felt the weight of his stare, nonetheless. Also noted was his mouth with firm lips and a strong chin. If the ridiculous hat he was wearing didn’t hide his hair, perhaps she might have been able to recognize him, but anything that could easily provide an identification was hidden from her.
As her pulse increased, for reasons that she could not explain, Frances quickly glanced away because she did not know him, or what his attention could mean because she was not used to having gentlemen even notice her.
The card room was where Frances would normally remain but she would not play tonight. She needed to be able to look into a player’s eyes and observe facial expressions, which these masks did not allow. Being unable to study an opponent resulted in a losing hand and loss of precious funds.
“You will not be a wallflower tonight but enjoy yourself.” Bethany pulled Frances back into the salon where the guests were dancing.
Though she could not see faces, others—gentlemen—had looked at her and Bethany and by the quirk of their lips, she assumed they liked what they saw.
