Page 9 of The Duke’s Stubborn Wallflower (The Matchmaker’s Scheme #2)

A Masquerade at Last

“Imust say it is a relief that Lady Danterberry has decided to do a masquerade for her theme this year,” Olivia said as she tried to convince herself to look in the mirror. “Last year, I believe it was fruits of the Empire, and everyone was assigned a fruit in advance.”

Jane laughed. “What fruit did you get?”

“Pineapple.” Olivia grimaced. “And yellow really is not a flattering colour on me. Honestly, I looked most unwell.”

“Well, you look utterly radiant this evening.” Jane beamed at her friend.

“As do you,” Olivia replied. “Honestly, that blue really does wonders for your complexion, and it is such a flattering cut. The modiste really has done outstanding work.”

Jane smiled and twirled. Her blue dress was very much a modern cut, well fitted and with beautiful silk gloves to accompany it. Her hair was made up, and her face was the picture of perfection. I hope I look as beautiful as she does.

“Come now, you cannot keep putting this off. Look at your own reflection. I want to see your face when you see how stunning you are.” Jane gently tugged on Olivia’s arm.

“But what if I do not look stunning?” Olivia’s voice was an uncertain whisper.

“You will,” Jane insisted as she gently turned her around. “Just look.”

Olivia took a deep breath and looked at her reflection in the mirror. She gasped and clapped a hand to her mouth. She looked at Jane her eyes wide with surprise and then back to her own reflection.

“Oh. Oh!” Olivia turned to Jane, wanting to say more, but the words would not come.

Jane smiled encouragingly at Olivia as she turned back to the mirror and took in the vision before her. It wasn’t that Olivia didn’t recognise the woman before here — in fact, it was the opposite.

This is the most like me I have ever looked. I did not realise I could look so beautiful and so like myself. Her dress was a rich indigo made of silk. It draped across her beautifully, sweeping elegantly as she moved. Her sleeves were short, and the wide neck of her dress revealed a diamond chandelier necklace on a fine gold chain.

Her gloves were also a beautiful silk and felt delightful against her skin. She felt tears begin to form at the corners of her eyes and hastily wiped them.

“I told you that you would be pleased.” Jane looked like a cat who had just found the cream. “You look radiant.”

“We both look radiant, my dearest Jane.” Olivia took her friends hands and gave them a squeeze.

“Indeed, you are.” Lady Cotswalts had entered the room, look resplendent in her own emerald gown. “I have procured these masks for us all.”

Olivia took the delicate half mask from Lady Cotswalts. It was a beautiful, intricate work of gold and would, of course, do nothing to hide her identity. Jane’s mask was almost a mirror of Olivia’s but in silver.

“The carriage awaits.” Lady Cotswalts beckoned for Jane and Olivia to follow her.

As the carriage wound its way towards the Danterberry Estate, Olivia found herself sitting taller and straighter than she ever had before. It was on odd sensation, not being afraid of her own height. How strange to feel calm before a ball.

In what seemed like moments, they saw the torches of the Danterberry Estate, and the carriage drew to a halt. Jane made to leave, but as Olivia went to follow, Lady Cotswalts caught her arm.

“I would have a moment with you, dear, before we enter the ball.” Lady Cotswalts gestured to the seat. “Jane, we shall be along shortly.”

Jane looked between her mother and Olivia, an odd look passing across her face. Before Olivia could make sense of it, her friend nodded and left the carriage.

Olivia canted her head towards Lady Cotswalts. “You wished to speak to me?”

“It is about your… well the hostility between yourself and Duke Glassley.” Lady Cotswalts gave Olivia a look.

Olivia shifted uncomfortably. “There is no hostility between us.”

“Then why did my dear daughter spend much of the garden party kicking you to stop you from trying to murder the man with your eyes?” Lady Cotswalts raised an eyebrow at Olivia.

“I had not realised you noticed that.” Olivia felt her cheeks redden but did not look away from the other woman.

“I notice everything. It is what I do,” Lady Cotswalts stated. “And that is why I am entreating you to let this matter rest. It will do no good for you to continue to harbour such hostilities.”

Olivia did not respond. In truth, she had expected to feel the familiar anger at the mention of Nigel, but it had not flared to life. In fact, she was not sure she had felt anger towards him since the garden party. The thought surprised her. It is not like anything has changed; he still said all of those hurtful things and clearly thinks the world of himself.

Olivia frowned, trying to unpick her feelings. Lady Cotswalts clearly read the expression as a sign that Olivia was not willing to do as she asked.

“My dear Olivia, you cannot hope to have a successful courtship with a man if you are constantly staring daggers at his cousin,” Lady Cotswalts said patiently. “Please, promise me you will leave the unpleasantness with the Duke behind you.”

It took a moment for Olivia to realise what Lady Cotswalts had said. “But no one is courting me.”

“Not yet.” Lady Cotswalts waggled her eyebrows suggestively. “Not yet, my dear, but I am certain that this will soon change.”

Olivia laughed. “I hope you are right.”

“I know I am. Especially if you put the unpleasantness between yourself and Duke Glassley behind you.” Lady Cotswalts held Olivia’s gaze.

“I shall do my best.” Olivia wasn’t sure why she didn’t tell Lady Cotswalts that she didn’t seem to feel any anger towards Nigel. Whatever my thoughts on him, they do not matter. Lord Briston is the prize, not his cousin.

“Wonderful.” Lady Cotswalts clapped her hands together in excitement, and together, they left the carriage.

Their conversation was still playing in Olivia’s head as she walked down the steps into the ballroom. She could understand why her animosity with Nigel might put his cousin off; it made sense to let the rivalry fade. Perhaps I will find him less irritating if I try.

She was so consumed by her own thoughts that she almost didn’t notice how different she felt entering the ballroom. It was only when she caught a glimpse of herself in one of the windows that she realised it.

Though corsets forced one to stand erect and upright, Olivia often felt self-conscious about her height. Yet this evening she stood tall, comfortable in her own skin. It is nice.

“There is Lord Briston and Duke Glassley.” Lady Cotswalts subtly gestured across the floor.

Lord Briston was standing with his cousin. His mask was a simple half mask painted grey. Nigel was wearing a more ornate mask decorated in the venetian style. Begrudgingly, Olivia had to admit it rather suited him. His coat was more stylish than his cousin’s, and Olivia was struck by how much taller than the other man he was.

“Who is that the Duke is talking to?” Jane indicated the woman beside Nigel whom Olivia had not noticed until that moment.

“I believe that is Lady Vanessa Everett, daughter of the Earl of Penworthy.” Lady Cotswalts looked thoughtful.

Something stirred within Olivia’s chest, some kind of disquiet she could not quite recognise. It is probably just nerves. And worry for Jane — after all, that will make our number uneven, and I would hate for her to be left out.

“Are you sure we should approach them so directly?” Olivia asked. “It would make us an odd number which could prove awkward for dancing.”

“The best approach is a direct one. After all, we would not want to encourage a larger group than five or risk Lord Briston also being distracted.” Lady Cotswalts guided her charges through the room towards the men.

Olivia glanced at Jane, but the mask on her face made it hard to read her expression. I am sure it will be fine.

“Good evening, ladies,” Nigel greeted them as they approached, smiling.

“Good evening, Duke Glassley. Lord Briston.” Lady Cotswalts smiled at the men and then to the woman with them. “And I do not believe we have had the pleasure of meeting your companion.”

“I am Lady Vanessa Everett.” Lady Everett smiled and curtsied — her voice was rather higher than Olivia had expected, and she found that for some reason it irritated her.

What does it matter what her voice sounds like? It is not like you will have to speak to her.

“A pleasure to make your acquaintance…” Lady Everett trailed off.

“This is the Duchess of Cotswalts, her daughter, Miss Jane Pembleton, and Lady Olivia Rokesby, the sister of the Duke of Emberly.” Nigel helpfully filled in, gesturing to each of the women as he introduced them.

Olivia curtsied to Lady Everett before turning to Lord Briston. “It is lovely to see you again, Lord Briston. Have you been well?”

“Yes, very well. Thank you,” Lord Briston noted. “And yourself?”

“Yes. Thank you.” Olivia smiled and tried to think of something else to say but kept being distracted by Lady Everett’s strangely high voice. She sounds practically like a child.

The orchestra struck up a familiar song, and Olivia’s heart sank. It was a quadrille. Poor Jane. Yet before she could do anything, another gentleman appeared and whisked Lady Everett from their party.

“Ah, how fortuitous, and just in time for the next dance.” Lady Cotswalts smiled, and Olivia half suspected she had somehow masterminded the entire thing. Though I cannot see how.

“Would you care to dance, My Lady?” Lord Briston extended a hand.

“Of course.” Olivia took it, and out of the corner of her eye, she saw Nigel asking Jane to dance with him.

As the orchestra continued its tune, they began their dance. Olivia felt an odd stumble in her chest as she struggled to find something interesting to say to Lord Briston. The familiar pressure of a ball filled her. Say anything. Ask him about his hobbies. Remember you are trying to get him to court you.

“Do you, uhm… What do you think of the orchestra?” Olivia asked, trying to sound more confident of the topic than she felt.

“They play well. Rather more modern than I had expected,” Lord Briston replied.

“Do you not care for the more modern numbers?” Olivia had just noticed that she and Lord Briston were almost the same height. At least he doesn’t seem embarrassed by this.

“Not particularly. Though I do enjoy some of their accompanying dances,” Lord Briston observed.

Olivia tried to think of something witty to say, but her mind seemed unhelpfully blank. Before she could think of anything, it was time to swap partners, and she found herself dancing with Nigel. The subtle scent of nutmeg and cinnamon washed over her, and she found herself remembering that morning several days ago.

“I had not thought that you would be drawn to someone like my cousin.” Nigel’s remark took Olivia by surprise and pulled her back from the embarrassing memory.

“And what exactly is that supposed to mean?” Olivia bristled. “Am I not good enough for your cousin either?”

Nigel shook his head, looking down at her. “Oh, no. Exactly the opposite. You could do much better than Lord Briston.”

“Perhaps I like Lord Briston.” Olivia tried to sound nonchalant.

Nigel laughed softly. “Come now! I am sure my cousin has his virtues, but I fail to see how they might appeal to you.”

Before Olivia could reply, it was time to swap partners, and she found herself back in Lord Briston’s company. Distracted by Nigel’s irritating comment, she accidentally trod on Lord Briston’s foot.

“Oh goodness, I am so sorry!” Olivia tried to compensate for her earlier error which resulted in Lord Briston stepping on her foot.

“Now it is my turn to apologise. Dear lady, did I hurt you badly?” Lord Briston asked.

“No, no it is quite all right.” Olivia smiled, painfully aware that their movements had become stiffer and more awkward. “Let us continue.”

Lord Briston nodded, and they resumed the dance, and then once more, she was in Nigel’s arms. The smirk on his face fuelled her annoyance and embarrassment.

“I take back everything I said before; it is clear to see what draws you to my cousin.” Nigel’s lips quirked upwards.

“Perhaps I am not drawn to men just because of their dancing prowess.” Olivia tried to sound dignified rather than defensive.

“Or their lack of it,” Nigel pointed out.

“Perhaps it is his personality that I am drawn to.” Olivia bit her lip.

“What personality?” Nigel asked, and Olivia heard a strange bitterness in his voice.

“Are you always so rude about your own family?” Olivia asked.

“I am not being rude, I am simply trying to understand what has drawn you to someone like him.” Nigel shrugged. “Well, perhaps I am being a little rude, but it baffles me.”

“As I am sure many things do,” Olivia quipped. “Besides, what does it matter to you whom I pursue or don’t pursue?”

Before Nigel could respond, they had swapped partners once more, and Olivia found herself in Lord Briston’s frame. She realised that her shoulders were tense and tried to force them to relax. Arranging her face in a smile, she tried to focus on what Lord Briston was saying to her.

Irritatingly her thoughts kept returning to Nigel. He does not approve of me trying to get his cousin to court me. She only just kept the scowl from her face. Well, what does it matter whether he approves or not? It is no business of his.

She shook herself. Why do I care what he thinks at all? It should not matter to me. And yet it did.