Caroline shivered.
“Do not make me stay that long,” Caroline insisted.
A smile twitched at Elara’s lips. Though she found the rumor of such a party alluring, she was not quite sure what she would doif the opportunity arose under different circumstances. Tonight, though, was not about exploring the curious nature of human sensuality. It was about finding answers for Evander.
“My point, dear cousin, is that everyone there will want their true identities protected, and no one will wish to discover ours. We are as safe in these masks and dresses as we were in our breeches and wigs. We need to follow our plan, as we always do, and we will be fine,” Elara assured her.
“Right,” Caroline said matter-of-factly as she finally let go of Elara’s hands. “You are right, of course. And we have our plan.”
“Indeed, we do,” Elara agreed as the carriage came to a stop.
“We have arrived,” Elara murmured. “Deep breaths, shoulders back. No one will doubt our invitation as long as we appear confident that it is ours. Do you remember what you have to do once we get inside?”
Caroline gave her a firm nod, and a moment later, they stepped out of the carriage and into the throng of other masked ladies and gentlemen.
Elara had wanted their costumes to be the complete opposite of who they were or who they wished to be. So instead of dressing her normally quiet cousin in the soft tones she adored, Elara had opted for a black-and-bronze color scheme. Her dark hair had been pulled back tightly and disguised by a high, multi-pronged bronze crown. Her mask, gloves, and dress matched almost identically, with a checkered pattern of bronze and black silk boxes. She had even painted Caroline’s lips with a bronze powder, which had cost a surprising amount to make.
For herself, Elara had forgone the blues she so adored and chosen a crimson silk mask and dress that accentuated herraven-black hair. Unlike her cousin, Elara had let her long locks unbound and curled, giving them a wild, almost untamed look. To give her costume extra depth, she had singed the dress in various places, giving it the appearance of a person on fire. She had then completed the ensemble with tight, black silk gloves that ran to her elbow, where the cuff of her dress sat, so that the only flesh she bared was from her plump lips to the swell of her cleavage in the low, scoop-necked bodice of her dress.
For a moment, as many eyes fell on them, Elara doubted the very words of encouragement she had just tried to instill in Caroline. She was used to curious looks from other gentlemen of thetonat social events, but none were as intense as the ones she was receiving now. Even behind the multitude of masks, Elara could feel the lustful looks from the gentlemen and the jealous, catty looks from the other ladies.
“Come,” Elara muttered, looping her arm through Caroline’s. “Let us not forget that we have come here for a purpose, not for entertainment.”
With their shoulders back and their heads held high, the two young women ignored the stares of the others and headed toward the entrance of the Duke of Ashworth’s London house.
“Your invitation, my ladies?” the butler asked politely as they approached.
Elara felt Caroline stiffen at her side. Knowing she would need to speak for both of them, Elara gave the butler, a man she had researched before coming, a sultry smile.
“Oh, come now, Mr. Pearson, do you not recognize us?” Emboldened by her disguise, Elara flirted boldly as she handed back their stolen invitation.
Just as she predicted, using the butler’s proper name and her sultry smile was enough to fluster the tall, thin man so thoroughly that he did not even bother to look at the invitation he had been given. Instead, he flushed red, bowed low at the waist, and tossed the invitation into the growing pile on the stool beside him.
“Of course, my ladies. How... how lovely to see you both again,” Mr. Pearson nearly stammered as he waved them inside. “Do enjoy yourselves this evening. I am sure His Grace will be most pleased to see you.”
“Thank you, Mr. Pearson,” Elara sang as she and Caroline breezed past him and through the curtained entrance of the foyer.
Once they made it to the other side, though, Elara and Caroline could not help but stop and gasp at the revelry before them. On the invitation, the ball had been titled in French:Masquerade du Cirque d’Intrigue,and as Elara took in the performers before them, it most certainly was that.
“Still worried that people are going to recognize us?” Elara murmured into Caroline’s ear. “No one is going to be looking at the guests when they have his entertainment to watch!”
“Yes,” Caroline murmured, her tone trembling with fear. “I suppose you are right. I still do not want to stay long, though. I have a bad feeling about tonight.”
“I will search as quickly as I can,” Elara promised, then focused on the scene before them.
Strange yet oddly satisfying music played from the balcony above as women dressed in shining, ethereal dresses seemed to fly back and forth between balconies on silk ribbons attached tothe ceiling. In the center of the large foyer stood a scantily clad couple dancing with perfect balance atop a giant globe about as tall as Elara’s brother. With every step the dancers took, the globe would move, yet somehow the couple remained atop it.
On either side of the ballroom, dancers were jugglers, but instead of pins, they juggled lit torches. Elara and Caroline both gasped—along with everyone around them—when they suddenly stopped, blew something out of their mouths, and sent their flames shooting toward the ceiling.
For a moment, Elara let herself take in the thrall of it all. She had heard that the Duke of Ashworth liked to host lavish parties, but this? This was pure magic and wonderment. Yet something about it all felt strangely wicked, even if she could not put her finger on it.
This is what the Duke likes? Just what kind of man is he?
“Looks like His Grace has outdone himself yet again,” a gentleman muttered behind Elara.
The words snapped her out of her reverie, and she leaned back ever so slightly to hear more about their host.
“Indeed. He does rather love his theatrics,” another gentleman murmured. “Interesting, though, is it not, that despite hosting such parties, he is rarely ever seen attending them?”
