Page 45 of How to Lose a Lord in Ten Days

Hawkscroft shone that evening, each room radiating with chandelier light, each fireplace rolling with snapping flames, each glass glittering with the finest champagne.

At nine o’clock, as the first carriages began swinging in through the gates, all the members of the house party descended the stairs, each dressed in masks and dominoes which would – all being well – utterly mask their identity.

‘How thrilling,’ Lady Morton said, looking round at them all. ‘Masked in such a way, one feels anything could happen.’

‘Indeed,’ Hesse said, with a meaningful raise of his brows.

‘The mask permits freedom in every culture,’ Prett announced portentously. ‘It is the same all around the world, you know, for in—’

‘It is a domino,’ Lady Hesse said waspishly, ‘not a mantle of invisibility. All the usual rules do still apply.’

‘ I certainly plan on disappearing,’ Lady Morton said. ‘Without Brutus at my heels, you will have no hope of identifying me, Lady Hesse.’

‘Where is Brutus?’ Miss Hesse asked anxiously.

‘Safe and sound in my rooms,’ Lady Morton assured her.

‘A good thing, perhaps,’ Lady Phoebe said. ‘Lady Laleham will bring her pug no doubt – can’t go anywhere without it – and we do not wish for a territory scuffle.’

‘Oh, what fun,’ Brandon said, with apparent genuine enthusiasm. ‘Sweet things.’

Miss Hesse’s head turned in his direction.

‘Now, which dance shall we begin with, my lady?’ Brandon went on.

‘Do you like pugs, Mr Brandon?’ Lydia interrupted, for she could not live with herself if she allowed him to pass by such an opportunity.

‘Oh, well,’ Brandon said, ‘ordinarily I prefer larger hounds, you know, but pugs … My mother has one. Looks like a bruiser but is the dearest thing.’ He smiled bashfully. ‘But then, I’m certain I would have a hundred dogs were it not dreadfully eccentric.’

Miss Hesse’s breath caught. Her eyes, behind her mask, were very round and Lydia had to fight the urge to clap her hands.

At the eleventh hour! Mr Brandon did not even know what he had done.

She looked around for the only person who would be as pleased as she by what had occurred – but he was not there.

‘Would you save me your first waltz, sir?’ Miss Hesse said, in a sudden breach of convention – ladies did not customarily request dances.

‘Why – yes, of course,’ Brandon stammered, cheeks pinked.

‘My dear, you forget – Lord Ashford requested the first waltz,’ Lady Hesse said quellingly.

‘He is not here, however,’ Miss Hesse said, more firmly than Lydia had ever heard her speak before.

Ashford had not been seen since that afternoon.

Lydia had searched the grounds in case he was lurking sulkily in some alcove, but to no avail.

She could only thank goodness that there were others she might turn to, for with Ashford and Pip absent she and Lady Phoebe would otherwise be quite alone.

As soon as she had explained the day’s revelations, Jane and Elspeth had swiftly offered their assistance for the evening’s tasks.

Their support was bolstering indeed, but Lydia was still hopeful that she might yet persuade Ashford to join their cause, for surely, he would reappear at dinner?

But he did not.

How disagreeable of him to make himself scarce when they had not discussed the events of the afternoon: Lady Phoebe, and his mother, the imminent arrival of the duke – and that kiss … Lydia brushed a hand across her mouth. Had it truly happened?

‘I do hope Ashford recovers from his migraine,’ Lady Phoebe said airily, now, ‘in time to greet the duke.’

As did Lydia. She could certainly not meet Ashford’s father before they had had a chance to decide, together, what they wished to do. He had spoken so firmly against love, last night – but after what they had shared this afternoon, perhaps …

‘I am greatly looking forward to meeting His Grace,’ Captain von Prett pronounced. ‘I sense he may be a kindred soul.’

‘I shall present you,’ Lady Phoebe promised. ‘And, indeed, you must remind me to bring you to Colonel Lynton – he oversaw the 95th, as you of course know, and has been very desirous of resuming your acquaintance.’

The captain’s serene expression faltered, briefly. ‘The colonel?’ he said weakly. ‘Oh how – how wonderful.’

‘Reeves, do remind me to make the introduction,’ Lady Phoebe instructed. ‘I mustn’t forget.’

‘Certainly, my lady,’ Reeves said, with a grim sort of satisfaction.

Across the room, Dacre turned his head towards the wall to hide a smile.

‘What illness did you say Ashford had?’ Lydia heard von Prett asking, as they made their way to the ballroom. ‘For I too am feeling a little …’

As vast as the house had seemed to Lydia on her first day, by half past ten it felt veritably crowded from the crush of persons within, and so loud with laughter and chatter that even when one was in the ballroom, one could hardly hear the music.

Lydia circled through the rooms with watchful eyes.

Save for the servants, there was not a single person in attendance without a mask, and amongst the sea of gentlemen wearing mantles of blue, black and grey and the oceans of ladies in lilacs and pinks, it was almost impossible to recognize anyone.

Almost. For Lady Phoebe was the only lady to have worn a bright and shocking scarlet, Sir Waldo would always be recognizable for his height and breadth and –

‘Miss Hanworth?’ Ashford said, behind her.

She turned, sharply. He was wearing a simple navy domino, with matching mask, but Lydia had no trouble recognizing him. She had spent a whole week making a complete study of every tiny variation of his expression, after all.

‘You are here,’ she said, stupidly.

‘Where else would I be?’ he said.

‘I have not been able to find you, anywhere.’

‘You were looking for me?’

‘I was … concerned,’ she admitted.

‘About me?’ he said. ‘I am touched.’

He held two glasses in his hands and offered one to her. She was strangely startled by the gesture. ‘Oh – thank you!’

She stared up at him. After spending all day beset by the questions and thoughts and concerns she wished to ask and relay and share with him, she did not know where to begin.

Lady Phoebe, of course, was the most urgent, certainly, but now her thoughts were fixed on a very different direction …

The light from the closest chandelier cast him in such shadow, but Lydia still felt his gaze upon her as a physical thing.

‘It was quite the day,’ she said, clearing her throat. ‘Did you – do you wish to speak of it?’

‘No.’

His unhelpfulness prompted Lydia back to herself, a little.

‘Yes, perfect,’ she agreed. ‘Bottle it all up, every bit. That sounds sensible to me.’

‘The good news is, I did not ask for your opinion,’ he said, irritated himself. ‘And thus …’

‘Nevertheless, you must receive it.’

A lady passing in a green domino turned sharply at the sound of their voices.

‘My lord, there you are!’ Lady Hesse, for it was she, clutched at Ashford’s arm. ‘You owe my daughter a dance!’

Lydia felt a rush of impatience at the interruption.

‘Do I?’ Ashford said.

‘She was most disappointed when you were not here for the waltz,’ Lady Hesse said. ‘Let me find her and you can make up the next set …’

Lydia had to get rid of her.

‘It is so difficult to keep track of persons, tonight,’ Lady Hesse said, peering this way and that. ‘I have not seen Hesse for several minutes.’

‘I have,’ Lydia said. ‘He and Lady Morton went to find a quiet spot to … rest.’

Lady Hesse swung her head round to regard Lydia.

‘Which way did they go?’ she said sharply.

Lydia pointed vaguely down the corridor, and Lady Hesse bustled off.

‘Liar,’ Ashford accused softly.

‘It’s probably true,’ Lydia argued. ‘You might thank me for getting rid of her, you know.’

She drew him backwards from the dance floor, so they might avoid further interruptions, next to the shielding leaves of a gigantic potted palm, though turning a little so that she might keep Sir Waldo and Lady Phoebe in her eyeline.

‘We have sent your brother on a fool’s errand,’ Ashford said. ‘He is wrong about Waldo.’

‘Is he? Waldo might not be a thief, but I believe he is still a villain. Perhaps you might wish to have another conversation with your cousin?’ Lydia suggested, as lightly as she was able.

‘I do not think,’ Ashford said, ‘I have anything else to say at this time.’

‘Truly? Even after a whole afternoon to yourself?’

‘Do not joke.’ Ashford irritably batted away a palm leaf that kept attaching itself to his shoulder. ‘If she is not careful, she will ruin herself – and the family.’

‘You are making a mountain out of a …’ Well, it was not quite a molehill, was it? ‘Medium hill,’ she settled upon. ‘I know this is very alarming for you, given your … ’

Lydia tried to work out the most tactful way of phrasing this – but she had too much on her mind to make the attempt. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Sir Waldo accept another glass of champagne. This would be his sixth, now.

‘Given your mother ran off …’

‘You should never have been told that,’ Ashford said, coldly. ‘And I would ask you to not speak of what you do not understand.’

Now Sir Waldo was leading Lady Phoebe towards the dance floor, again. They had completed several dances together, already – Sir Waldo taking advantage of the masks to avoid the usual hosting duties.

‘You might know the facts,’ Ashford said. ‘But that still gives you no right to think you understand a single thing about my life.’ He had her full attention, again. He had not used such a cold tone with her in many days, now. He made as if to leave. ‘If you will excuse me …?’

Lydia grasped his arm before he could take a step.

‘Of course I do not understand,’ she said urgently. ‘Until today, I thought your parents to be a great love match – I can barely believe that was a lie, let alone—’

‘It wasn’t a lie,’ Ashford interrupted. ‘They did love one another, in the beginning. My father still does – it is only her mind that changed.’