Elara gave Caroline a sympathetic smile as her poor cousin turned an even darker shade of red. Vivid imagination or not, she knew Caroline was right. She had seen Damien’s intense stare fixed on Caroline, and he looked like a beast ready to pounce and devour her.
Thankfully, their chatter drifted toward the decorations and effort put into hosting the evening’s party, and as Elara and Caroline were primped and prepped for the night by Mona and Eva, Elara was able to focus on her plan.
In what seemed like far too little time, a knock came at the door, and the announcement followed that the first guests had begun to arrive.
“So early!” Nora exclaimed, her hands flying to her hair, then face. “Do people not arrive fashionably late anymore?”
“It is a good thing, Nora,” Bridget said calmly as she captured Nora’s hands. “It means our peers are ready to welcome us back into society. And you look beautiful. We all look beautiful. Let us go downstairs and begin welcoming our guests, yes?”
Elara’s heart swelled with affection as she watched the interaction between her sister-in-law and her mother. For so long, it had been Elara alone who had to keep Nora calm. Now Bridget was here to help, and she did so with great grace and compassion.
“You are right, darling, of course,” Nora agreed, then took a deep, steadying breath.
“You do look beautiful, Mama,” Elara said, admiring her mother’s champagne- and lavender-colored chiffon gown, the matching feathers in her updo, and the elbow-length white satin gloves.
“Thank you, my darling,” Nora replied, her tone emphatic as she tenderly tapped the underside of Elara’s chin. “As do you. Are you and Caroline coming down with us?”
“We shall be there shortly,” Elara promised.
Elara waited until her mother, Bridget, and their maids had left the room before standing and taking a long look at herself. The teal chiffon gown was lovely and modest, a stark contrast to the crimson silk she had worn the other night. In fact, she thought, she looked like an entirely different person.
“What are you thinking, cousin?” Caroline asked, her tone gentle. “You look… well, I do not know how to describe it.”
Elara smiled as she pulled herself from her thoughts and shook her head.
“Nothing,” Elara answered, taking Caroline’s hand. She swept her gaze over the soft wheat-colored chiffon dress, speckled with pearls, that her cousin wore, and beamed at her. “You look beautiful.”
Caroline beamed back at her.
“I must admit, I rather like this dress more than the one I wore to the Duke of Ashworth’s party. This one feels more like me,” Caroline replied.
“Funny, I was having a similar thought,” Elara mused.
“Do you think he will actually come?” Caroline asked. “The Duke of Ashworth, I mean.”
“I can only hope so,” Elara replied, offering her arm to Caroline. “There is only one way to find out. Shall we go downstairs?”
Arm in arm, they left the room and headed down the hallway toward the main staircase. Elara’s brows flew up as she and Caroline reached the top of the stairs, surprised at how quickly their home had filled with members of theton. She took in the large bouquets of flowers, the vivid, multicolored silk tapestries that hung from the high ceiling, and the sound of lively music from the orchestra below, just to the left of the dance floor, where couples were already swirling.
It was, she realized, everything she had once hoped her first formal ball would be. Yet as she reached for the eagerness she once had for such an occasion, she found something else. Not a need for a ball, but a need for answers.
Elara walked into the crowd, exchanging smiles and pleasantries with the guests she knew while keeping her eyes open for any sign of the Duke. For an hour, she did so, her heart leaping every time she saw a gentleman with dark brown or black hair, which, to her annoyance, was often. Yet when he turned, it was never those particular green eyes of the Duke’s she found, but someone else’s.
She sighed in frustration at the latest sense of failed hope and plucked a glass of champagne from a passing tray. As she did so, Adrian caught her eye and gave her a warning look, as if telling her not to have too much. She bowed her head, not feeling up to fighting with him, and made a show of taking a small sip from her glass.
Adrian gave her a grateful smile, winked, then turned around, quickly focusing on whatever he, Damien, and a few other gentlemen were discussing. The moment he turned away, though, Elara lifted the glass to her lips and downed the remaining contents in one swallow.
“Are you certain it is a good idea to drink spirits so quickly?” a deep, familiar voice said behind her, sending a shiver up her spine. “I would rather think you would want to keep your wits about you, since you so obviously fooled your brother into sending me an invitation.”
Chapter 6
“Your Grace, I never thought I would see you in a room with a Redgrave ever again,” Lord Prescott joked.
Constantine nearly sneered as the old acquaintance thumped him on the back. Only by curling his hand into a fist and imagining shoving the man’s hand away did he manage to stand still and keep up his fake smile. He did not like being touched, but he had a part to play. Still, Prescott had a point. Constantine was sure he was on his way to losing his mind by accepting the Dowager Duchess of Redgrave’s invitation, given everything her eldest son had done to his younger brother and the bad blood that had formed between himself and their family.
However, it was an opportunity to confront the youngest Mason about the fire, a certain beautiful young lady who had schemed her way into his masquerade and had left him both enraged and intensely curious.
“Yes, well, some circumstances cannot be helped,” Constantine replied, giving him an arrogant smirk. “Nature was not kind to you, Prescott, but she was at least consistent.”
