Dancing With A Lady Read online

  Judging by the way that his expression lit up, this was good news to her father. But Victoria did not feel the same way and hoped that this was not the sort of thing she would have to be subjected to again for a while.

  “I see,” she almost whispered back. “And does anyone know who sent out the invitation?”

  “Oh, well, rumour has it that it is a man from America who owns property in England. That might be the case since I believe I know of every eligible bachelor in London, and none of them seem to be responsible. It has to be someone new, and this could be someone very exciting for you to meet.”

  Victoria watched in horror as her parents exchanged hopeful glances. How was this good news? An unknown stranger had invited her, and every other single woman in the city, to a ball where everyone would hide their faces ... that did not sound like fun at all.

  But as she watched her parents and saw the hope there, she knew that she could not refuse. Refusal would probably not get her anywhere, anyway; if her father wanted her to go, then she would have to go. She supposed that at least with a mask covering her face she could hide even more successfully than she normally did.

  “I see,” she repeated. “And the ball is next week?”

  “I shall take you to the dressmakers today, and we will get you a new outfit made.” The Duchess joined in excitedly, “I was thinking we should get you something in midnight blue. The dark colour will make your skin look even paler than usual.”

  Victoria knew that this was just another way to show off their wealth, pale skin reflected money, but she did not allow that to halt her. She was going to have to agree no matter what, so the best thing to do was to put a smile on her face and comply.

  “Of course, that sounds wonderful. I shall go and get some breakfast now so that I am ready.”

  The relief on her mother’s face as she did not put up a fight was obvious. It was almost as if she did not realise that she was no longer dealing with Charlotte. Victoria did not argue in any way that could be considered disrespectful to her parents. Instead, she was more secretive with her bad behaviour.

  “Perfect; I shall ensure that we have a carriage ready.”

  As Victoria moved through her house into the dining room, she wondered what the masquerade ball might be like. It was not the sort of event that she had ever attended before, but she had overheard gossip from the girls who had whenever she was around them. Perhaps there was just a chance that she might come to like it. It might even turn out to be fun. Unique and mysterious ... a little bit like the potential American who would be hosting the event. She could not help wondering what he would be like.

  Victoria had only ever met English gentlemen who her family had known for years. Even before meeting them, she knew a lot about them, and if this man was an American, then she had no chance of that. But then maybe that was a good thing. Maybe she was always put off men before she had even laid eyes upon them. It was not as if she thought that she was about to fall in love with this mysterious, quite outlandish man, but the idea that things could be different excited her.

  She took her seat at the table and heard the staff moving rapidly around her, but for once Victoria was not thinking about their lives, she was not worried about the differences between the wealthy and the poor, but only because she had built up a bit of a romantic image in her mind. Her stories were always about a different world; they never centred around love, but that was because she did not have even a scrap of experience in that area. While that had not changed, there was an idea forming in her brain, and this time the heroine of her story had her eyes on an exotic man from a foreign country who spoke with a different accent. One who made her shiver with excitement and altered her forever.

  Chapter Three

  Victoria tugged at the midnight blue sleeves around her shoulders wondering why the dress didn’t feel quite the same as it did when she was in the dressmaker’s shop. Then, she felt quite comfortable in it, and with all the staff in the store and her mother convincing her that she looked utterly beautiful in it, she started to agree. It was probably the low lighting as well that had been used deliberately to make her feel special. She almost felt like the heroine in the story starting to form in her mind; graceful, elegant, about to fall in love with the mysterious American. About to be swept from her feet and have her life turned upside down completely in the best way possible.

  Now, she did not feel that way at all. As the lacy material fell to her feet, she felt it was not quite tight enough around her waist, that it did not dangle on the floor well, and that the bow decoration donning her chest looked plain silly. A blush filled her cheeks at the mere sight of herself. It was embarrassing to be seen in such a way. How could her mother have allowed her to purchase this item? She should have seen in the store that this was all wrong.

  “I do not like it,” she grumbled childishly to the handmaiden brushing her dress down, seemingly oblivious to her tantrum. “It does not look good on me. I do not wish to go.”

  But Victoria already knew that complaining was pointless; her father was extremely excited about this particular event. The more rumours that he heard about this mysterious American man, the more that he liked about him. It seemed to Victoria that he did not even seem to consider the idea that the words he was hearing might not be the truth, and so every time he tried to tell Victoria something about the gentleman, she tuned him out. The only way that she could get herself through this was if she did not know a single thing about him.

  “You look simply wonderful, Lady Victoria,” the maid answered in a sing-song tone of voice. “The colour offsets your pale skin beautifully, and your hairstyle shows off your long and slender neck. Would you like me to put some make-up on you?”

  Victoria experimentally held up the mask that would cover half her face over her eyes. The black with gold weaving designs spread across it ensured that she did not need anything else on her skin at all. She shook her head lightly and watched herself for a little while longer. Of course, she knew that it was her, she could see all the familiar traits that she looked at every single day, but she did not think that anyone else would know her face. She could have an air of mystery, which could be fun ... if she felt comfortable in her dress, which still did not look right.

  “No, I do not think I need anything else. I am done.”

  “You do not need any jewels in your hair? You have those butterflies that always look wonderful.” As the maid pulled the diamond encrusted jewels out, Victoria reconsidered for just a moment, but in the end, she shook her head no. “You look lovely just as you are.”

  “Thank you very much. Now, I think I would like to be alone for just a moment before I leave.”

  Without even pausing for a second, the maid turned and raced from the room, allowing Victoria to let out a sigh of relief. She put the mask on properly and grabbed her gloves from her desk. As she slid them over her hands and up her arms, covering her elbows completely, she felt even more of a fraud than before. Perhaps it was merely nerves, but she could not think of any other time that she had dreaded an evening out as much. There was rarely a time when she wanted to go, but this had to be the worst.

  I must do this, she told herself as she tried her hardest to find some determination. I must go ... if even for only a very short time. I must keep my father happy; that is my only aim.

  But even as she thought those words, her eyes travelled down to her desk where there were random pages of her writing scattered across it. She would have much preferred to sit at her desk and live the night in her imagination. Her latest story with the romantic twist was coming along nicely, and she wanted to stick with that. If only she had the choice to do as she pleased ...

  Before she could get lost in that thought again, she left her bedroom and moved down the hallway to find her parents. There was no point in hanging around for even a second longer because she could quite easily work herself up into a panic. Even that would not change things; she would still have to go, only she would be in a
mess which would make it worse ...

  “Yes, I do agree.” Victoria stopped exactly where she was when she heard her mother’s hushed voice echoing through the hallway. If she was trying to have a private conversation, she had chosen the wrong place to do so. The house acoustics meant that her voice was travelling. “But I do not think that this is something we should trouble Victoria with now. She seems worried enough about this ball to me; we shall tell her later when she returns, or maybe even tomorrow after we have found out everything that has gone on. You never know, this might be the time ...”

  Victoria felt stunned. She did not know that her mother noticed her enough to spot her anxiety. Plus, she assumed that she had kept her expression stoic enough at every single mention of it for anyone not to see ... but apparently, she was wrong. Her mother had seen through her rouse.

  “I agree,” her father interjected in a tone that was just as hushed. “We do need Victoria to be on top form tonight, but I do not want to hold my hopes up too high. We have been let down before. She is now getting to an age where she will not be desirable as marriage quality soon; we need to have a plan for the moment that happens. We cannot just do nothing; you know that.”

  Victoria sucked in a deep breath as she tried to process what her father had just said. It was all the truth, and she knew it well, but hearing it come from the mouth of someone else hurt probably more than it should do. But not as much as the words that were about to come.

  “She will become an embarrassment soon, so we need to do something.”

  Hot tears balled up in the corners of Victoria’s eyes. She did not realise that her actions were affecting her parents that much. She had hurt them, disappointed them, but she had not realised that she was an embarrassment. That stung her heart and made her stomach hurt.

  “I will tell her about your idea of a home alone somewhere in the countryside in the morning,” her mother continued, completely oblivious to the agony that was being caused on the other side of the wall. “Who knows, she might even like the idea. She can then live in her dream world by herself.”

  “And what shall we tell people when they ask us what has happened to her?”

  “I do not wish to think about that at the moment. We can decide later on. It does not really matter what we say; I highly doubt that anyone will be checking up on us anyway.”

  Victoria fell back against the wall as heavy breaths escaped her mouth. At first, she felt shocked, stunned to the core, in a terrible state of panic as she considered what her mother and father had just said to one another ... but after a few moments when the ice-cold terror had calmed itself down, she really began to think about it. A life on her own in the countryside, presumably funded by her parents, where she could live a faceless life where no one knew her and her history, and she could just write her stories. It was all that she wanted, and it was actually a possibility. She had not ever really considered what her life would be like without a husband and a family, only in a hypothetical way, but now it was there, right within touching distance. All she needed to do was go to the ball and fail as she always did. If that was not motivation to go, she did not know what could be.

  With her chin held high, she pushed herself off the wall and walked calmly into the room where her parents were waiting. This time, she ensured that her face did not give away any of her emotions. The last thing that she wanted was for her parents to know that she had heard what they were saying to one another. She did not want to ruin their plan for her.

  As they heard Victoria enter the room, the Duke and Duchess leapt apart as if they were on fire. They stared at their daughter with wide eyes, but when she smiled serenely at them betraying nothing, the pair relaxed. They had managed to keep their delicate conversation a secret.

  “You look beautiful,” the Duchess told her daughter breathily. “That dress looks wonderful on you.”

  Victoria glanced down at herself, feeling all of her complaints about her outfit fall from her lips about the dress. It hardly mattered what she looked like now, not when her dream life was within her grasp. “Oh thank you, Mother, that is very kind of you. Do you also like the mask?”

  “I do.” Her mother nodded enthusiastically. “It looks wonderful. It looks lovely with your dress. The colouring blends together very well.”

  “Yes,” her father joined in the conversation with a much too bright smile. “You do.”

  “I think that I am ready to go,” Victoria continued, amazing herself with how easy this all felt now that she knew the truth. “Is the carriage waiting outside for me?”

  “I shall take you,” the Duke said as he moved towards her. “It would be my honour to walk you to your carriage. I cannot allow a pretty lady like you to walk alone now, can I?”

  “Oh thank you, Father, that sounds lovely.”

  Victoria could see it; an intense flicker of pride in her father’s face that she had never seen before, which normally would have made her feel guilty. But now she had the knowledge that they had another plan for her, and it was one that would leave all of them happy. Her parents would not have to worry about her any longer, and the family reputation would be far from ruined if they came up with a suitable lie as to her whereabouts – maybe they could invent a wealthy husband who lived far away from the city. Like her mother said, no one would care enough to check – and she would be alone and could do whatever she wanted with her time. She would have no one to worry about but herself.

  Victoria’s imagination got the better of her, picturing this new life as she walked towards the carriage. She envisioned peace, quiet, long endless days in the countryside where she could write uninterrupted all day long. Of course, she had not ever been to the countryside before, so that part she had to really try and imagine using what she had read in books, but the setting hardly mattered. It was the life that she desired.

  Chapter Four

  As soon as Victoria spotted the endless archways that stretched out as far as she could see, she knew that this ball was being held by someone with some serious money. She had seen a fair number of ballrooms, all of which were owned by wealthy people, but this was even larger, even more dramatic, decorated in an even fancier way than any of them. There did not even seem to be any attempt to keep things understated ... it had to be an American man running the show. Only someone who did not know the ins and outs of the English etiquette would throw a soiree like this. At least some of the rumours had to be the truth, which filled Victoria with a strange thrill of excitement. She wanted the host to be the mysterious American man because of the story forming in her imagination.

  Men and women filled the sidelines of the dance floor, all of them dressed in their finest clothing with wonderfully designed masks. There were black, gold, silver, bronze, even some with lots of colours all over it. Victoria felt a little plain among them; she had much less lace across her, her skirts did not spread out as far, and maybe she should have considered some jewels in her hair ... but then her goal was not to stand out, blending in and going unnoticed was exactly what she needed. There was no need to be jealous of the women who looked more dramatic than her. With that thought in mind, she sidled past the people who had not yet braved dancing and found a space where she could wait until it was an acceptable time to leave. She had to prove to her parents that she had given things a go.

  With her gloved hands behind her back, Victoria fixed her eyes on the lighting fixtures that hung above the crowds of people, the candles inside causing shadows to dance upon the walls. Watching the shadows move managed to calm down the remaining nerves that she felt inside. She could almost forget where she was for just a moment.

  “Good evening,” one of the much younger looking Ladies said quietly to Victoria, distracting her from her own little world. “It is terribly exciting to be here, is it not?”

  “Oh ...” Victoria discreetly ran her eyes over the young girl, noting the expensive material that her pale pink dress was made from. Her mask was also beautiful, sparkling under the fl
ickering lights with its gems and gold strands woven within it. Whoever this girl was, she came from an even more desirable family than Victoria, and the Turner name was an extremely well-known one. This constant show of money made Victoria feel a little insecure. Not that she would allow that to show. “Yes, it is,” she said at length.

  “Have you met our gracious host yet?” The lady displayed her immaturity by pressing her fingers into Victoria’s arm for just a brief moment. “He is very nice.”

  Victoria tried to rein in her interest; she did not need to know a single thing about this man now that she had a new life plan waiting for her, but an odd bit of intrigue got the better of her. It had to be the writer within her, trying to gain information for her current story. She did not want to question her intrigue; she did not need to know where her mind was wandering.

  “Who is he?” she asked the girl quietly. “Is he in here right now?”

  “Well, of course he is,” the lady giggled as she replied. “This is his masquerade ball after all. He is standing at the corner of the dance floor, talking to the lady in the deep red dress.”

  Victoria turned her head to look where she was pointing, and her eyes immediately found her target, almost as if there was a force there already, dragging her gaze in that direction. There she found herself staring at a man’s back which appeared to be slightly too broad for the jacket that he wore. The suit appeared to be very English; it matched the sort of thing that everyone else in the room was wearing, but the man’s body did not want to be squeezed into it. Even from the angle that she was at, Victoria could tell that he had the strongest looking shoulders that she had ever seen.