Masquerade Secrets(3)

"Magic? Can you do that?" Charlotte asked, completely drawn in by the thought of a dress containing magic.

"Certainly. Just you wait and see."

Aubrey smiled at the excited grin her sister threw at her before heaving  a sigh. It would have to be some substantial magic to have men fawning  all over her. In the few years she had been out into society, she had  never come close to a feat such as that.

After Aubrey had her measurements taken, and the plum silk was pulled  from the display window, Madam Devereaux whisked them out of the shop.  "I will have these gowns delivered to your home before the masquerade.  And don't worry about a thing Lady Aubrey, it will be perfect." The  modiste gave one last wink before turning back into her shop.         

     



 

The month before the masquerade flew by. The parties were the same, the  people were the same. The only thing different was that she was sitting  along the wall by herself. Sera had still not arrived home from the  continent, and her younger sister had taken society by storm. With her  popularity, it was rare that Charlotte ever got a moment to sit along  the fringe of the room.

The masquerade this evening would no doubt be another triumph for her.

"Right on time, my lady." Bitsy laid the wrapped gown on her bed. "Oh,  and this note was delivered with it," she said, pulling a folded piece  of paper out of her pocket.

"Thank you, Bitsy."

"My pleasure, my lady. I will return soon to help you dress." With a nod, Bitsy curtsied and left.

The dress had been placed on her bed, folded in a shimmery paper that obscured the fabric from view.

Seconds ticked by as Aubrey stared at the bundled package. Her nerves  seemed to stretch, fray, and end on a sizzle that she felt all the way  to her toes.

Why did she hesitate to open it? The dress had rarely entered her mind  over the last month, but she couldn't seem to stop her reaction to it  now. Madam Devereaux had said she would add magic to the gown, enough  that men would be eating out of the palm of her hand. Of course that was  nonsense, but there was something in the air, something that seemed  alive and ready to pounce.

That was what had her pausing, had her contemplating the folded material.

Would it be a light silk, or a dark? Would it have ruffles and lace, perhaps even a few small gems sewn into it?

The possibilities were endless.

Reaching out, the fabric felt cold yet still soft and pliant. The silver  threads in the protective layer of fabric shimmered in the soft  candlelight.

With a deep breath, Aubrey untied the ribbon, hearing the satiny edges of the material whistle as they loosened.

The silver sparkle fell away, almost in deference to the gold that shone  through beneath. The silk was beautiful and unlike any she had ever  seen.

In reverence, Aubrey reached out to run her fingers over the shimmering  fabric. Unlike the silver, the dress was warm, snapping to life at  contact. Jerking her hand away, Aubrey laughed slightly. The shock the  material had delivered to her finger was just a coincidence.

A quiet knock sounded at her door before Bitsy walked in again. "Are you ready to dress?"

Aubrey nodded, unsure if she could speak. What had come over her? It was  just a dress. Just a silly dress she would wear to a masquerade. There  wasn't magic in it, there wasn't anything special about it. Except that  the material was exquisite. The gold silk had a swirling pattern in a  darker gold, almost as if a fairy had cast the design with her wand.

Clucking her tongue, Aubrey scolded herself. It wouldn't do her any good  to think that the gown was anything more than a costume.

"This is beautiful, Lady Aubrey. I've never seen a gown to compare!"  Bitsy said in awe as she lifted the gown over Aubrey's head.

"I agree. The material is unique. I haven't seen anything more beautiful."

After the last lace had been tied, Bitsy stepped back to view her work. "It looks like it could be made with magic."

"What?" Aubrey asked, slightly alarmed. Had she unknowingly said something in front of Bitsy?

"It looks like it could have been made with magic. I wager that  gentlemen won't be able to take their eyes off you tonight. Have a  look," Bitsy said, gesturing toward the mirror.

Looking at her reflection, Aubrey could believe the dress held magic.  While she doubted it before, she was more open to the idea now. She  barely recognized herself. The material gleamed in different hues of  gold, all swirling into a floral pattern. The skirt was layered in  petals of fabric, creating an almost fairy-like appearance. She looked  lush, full, the dress emphasizing her feminine attributes instead of  concealing them.

She looked like a pagan goddess. Her hair was more golden; her eyes  glimmered like the rarest of emeralds. Every part of herself was  enhanced, perfected.

At any other ball she would feel self-conscious, like she was showing  too much of herself. But tonight was different. Tonight she wasn't Lady  Aubrey. Tonight she was a stranger. She could be anyone, be anything.

The thought excited her. For a few years she had stayed in the corner,  not wanting to draw too much attention to herself. Tonight would be  different.

"Aubrey, you look fantastic!" Charlotte said, entering the room with  excitement. "Madame Devereaux certainly outdid herself with that  creation." A sly grin curved her lips. "I have no doubt her prediction  will come to pass this evening. The men stand no chance."

A small laugh escaped Aubrey's lips before she sobered a bit. "Thank  you," she said breathlessly. Something was in the air tonight. She could  feel it. She just didn't know what it was.         

     



 

"Mother asked me to fetch you. She is waiting in the carriage."

Aubrey nodded, reaching toward the table for her jeweled mask, its gold ribbons trailing behind it.

Following Charlotte, Aubrey climbed into the carriage. The night was  bright, clearly lit by a full moon. She wasn't superstitious, but she  could believe that magic would happen on a night like this.

Her mother and sister chatted quietly, but Aubrey didn't hear them. It  was as if a spell had been cast over her. The closer they came to their  destination, the more firmly the enchantment was placed.

"Secure your masks, my dears," her mother said as they rolled to a stop in front of Lady Templeton's home. "We have arrived."

Placing the mask over her face, she felt something within herself break  free. This night would be different than any other, and she intended to  enjoy every moment of it.

Securing the mask, she felt the thick, silky ribbons kiss her neck, sending a shiver through her body.

Walking into the large home in Mayfair, Aubrey noticed that most of the  guests had arrived, lingering in either the ballroom or hall. Dancing  had begun, although she couldn't see the dancers yet, the music floated  to her in the hallway.

While newly arrived guests were not being announced, they were still  expected to pause at the top of the stairs so others would notice their  arrival. Waiting their turn, Aubrey noticed that hardly anyone was  paying attention to who arrived.

At least they weren't until she was standing atop the stairs.

Conversations seemed to stop as she walked down into the ballroom, all  eyes focused on her. If it weren't for the confidence she felt coursing  through her, the knowledge that no one knew who she was, she would be  worried that something was wrong, that perhaps she had forgotten an  important article of clothing.

But nothing was out of place.

In fact, she felt strong, powerful. More so than she had ever felt in  her life. Every man seemed to stop what he was doing to absorb her, to  take her fully in as she slowly made her way to the floor.

The attention made her cheeks sting with delight, but she didn't hesitate. She knew that it was just the beginning.





CHAPTER 2



The boredom that Bradford, Lord Bromley, the Duke of Wathersby felt as  he stood in the overly crowded ballroom was almost more than he could  bear. Young debutants skittered by him speaking loudly, emboldened  enough by their disguises to try to catch his attention. He wasn't a  fool. Everyone seemed to think that they wouldn't be recognized, but he  never understood that notion. A person with a mask on was the same  person without it. Nothing changed.

Would it always be this way? The monotony of society eating at him at  every social function? The smell of too many bodies, their sweet perfume  and pungent cologne clogging the air? It all seemed so unbearable now.  There was nothing left of the excitement he had felt as a young buck,  ready to branch out into society. There was only ennui, exasperation.

Perhaps, if he had married Lady Sera …

He shook the thought right out of his head. It wouldn't do to dwell upon  the failed relationship with the new Countess of Surrant. The false  scandal that had ruined her reputation, causing Quinton Devericks, the  Earl of Surrant, to propose, was nothing he wanted to think about.

It was time to move on. Fortunately, he had never been in love with Lady  Sera. Her beauty and wit had held his attention, and the friendship  they had formed had moved him to propose. But there was never any love  between them.