Despite the callous way with which he’d discussed his aversion to the world during their first walk—an impression Cecilia had tried to cling to in order to justify distancing herself from him—Cecilia found herself unable to shake a wretched desire in her heart to close that very same distance.
After all, he almost always spoke so tenderly, with an air of deep thought about him—if he spoke at all. And Cecilia often had her own observations about their surroundings, and life as a whole, mirrored in Lord Neil’s words. Though they seemed to have reached an unspoken agreement to avoid topics relating to music, books, and art in general.
Cecilia squeezed her eyes shut for a moment and let her fingers brush against the leather cover of the book in her lap which happened to be latest installment from the popular adventure novelist. When she opened her eyes, she realized that she’d been reading the same few sentences repeatedly, one finger tucked under the corner of the page, ready to flip to the next.
She'd been lost in thought and had finally come back to earth, her senses grounding her with the feeling of the book in her hands and her back against the soft chair, rain gently knocking on the window. Cecilia’s stomach turned as she realized the path her thoughts had taken once again.
“You foolish girl,” she muttered under her breath, scolding herself for getting lost in this fantasy world. No matter how often Cecilia’s mind tried to transform Lord Neil into the hero in those books, she knew he could not be the hero she hoped for. Her hero, after all, wore a mask and danced elegantly and faced the world head on and understood that art could only be kept alive by sharing it.
She closed the book, slipping a piece of paper between the pages to mark her spot, and walked across the room to the window. The dreary sky seemed as gray her heart.
If only she could reduce Lord Neil to another one of her unsuccessful suitors. But she was tied to him for now, at least until Lord Overton asked for Juliet’s hand, or one or both of them grew tired of the other and put an end to the courtship.
Or until she could finally discover who her masked gentleman was.
But as the weeks floated by in the warming London air, Cecilia knew in her heart that her chance had slipped past her. He very well might not even be in London anymore. Perhaps he had only been in London for that one beautiful night. The more she mulled it over, the more she felt that he must have been some kind of mirage, appearing only once in her lifetime for some mysterious purpose and never to be seen again.
Part of her irritation with Lord Neil, she guiltily admitted to herself, had to do with just how close he seemed at times to that man she’d shared that glorious dance with. Some of the things he said, even the way he said them, struck her as just the types of things the masked gentleman would have said. Of course, she knew she had no way of knowing if she might be correct.
What she did know was that she was chasing yet another unreachable dream. If finding a man she could love with all her heart and feel his love in return had been difficult, finding the one man who had finally sparked that possibility in her was completely out of the question.
Cecilia let her forehead press against the cool glass for a moment as she gazed into the soggy sky. The rain wasn’t heavy, but it had been steady all day. The longer it rained the darker her mood had grown.
Today was not an ideal day for a ball. And besides, she’d just seen Lord Neil yesterday. He and Lord Overton had enjoyed a quiet dinner at the Richards home for the first time. Needless to say, their parents were absolutely thrilled by this development. They hadn’t said anything outright, but their eyes had sparkled with the hopes of an impending engagement ever since the dinner plans had been set.
They had gone all out with dinner, overworking the poor cook and kitchen maids to produce several top-notch courses. Lord Overton and Mr. Richards never lacked for topics of conversation, with Juliet chiming in as she pleased, and even Cecilia offered her remarks from time to time.
Mrs. Richards had been content to quietly watch the evening unfold, shooting hungry glances between Lord Overton and Juliet. She seemed not to notice Lord Neil and Cecilia nearly as much, as Lord Neil had eaten mostly in silence. Clearly, their parents' hopes were pinned firmly on a match between the Earl and their youngest daughter.
Knowing that Lord Neil would be in attendance tonight, Cecilia’s excitement at the prospect of another ball had dwindled significantly. Perhaps he would not ask to dance with her or even attempt to speak with her at all, since this event fell outside the window of his allotted time with her.
Cecilia glanced at the clock above the fireplace. She still had quite some time before getting ready for the ball. She needed to try something else to occupy her mind, since this book had been unable to do so. Even a poor session at the pianoforte would be better than agonizing over this for another moment.
“Mama, is it possible that I might stay home from this ball tonight?” Cecilia whispered the question. Her mother had been in exceptionally high spirits these past few weeks, but she did not trust the mood to last if she pushed her luck too far. Yet she had to ask, knowing that she risked fire and brimstone. That was how badly she wished to avoid Lord Neil.
Mrs. Richards’s hands stilled over the dress sprawled out on the bed, another one of her favorites on Cecilia. She turned slowly to face her daughter, eyes narrow.
“And why might that be? Are you ill? Injured?” Such questions usually conveyed care and concern, but coming from her mother now, they sounded cold and harsh.
“No, I’m well. I just find myself disagreeable to the idea of a ball tonight. I’ve been out plenty so far this Season, and there will be more dances to come. Could it really hurt if I were to sit this one out? We’re not even particularly close to the hosts. And besides, this is Juliet’s Season. All eyes should be on her.”
The justifications spilled out of Cecilia quickly, as if she were trying to address her mother’s arguments before she could make them. But she knew in an instant that she had made a mistake. The air seemed to drain from the room. Violet found something to fuss with in the far corner, glancing over her shoulder furtively at her mistresses.
“Cecilia. Are you really such a fool?”
“Mama…” Cecilia’s mouth gaped open. Her mother could be unforgiving and demanding, but she had rarely been so bluntly cruel.
“All eyes are already on your sister. It is you we are concerned with. Every man that has shown an interest in you has been turned away. And for what? Your silly ideals? True love? I knew you were naïve but I had no idea it ran this deeply.
“You will attend this ball. If you think the tension between you and Lord Neil has gone unnoticed, you are sorely mistaken. Whatever has happened between the two of you, put it to rest and dance with him tonight. Restore his favor to you or else your father and I will begin choosing gentlemen. We will choose a husband on your behalf, if need be. Consider this your last warning.”
The pure shock froze Cecilia in place. She stared at her mother, who simply stared back with a look of contempt that Cecilia had never seen before. She’d had no idea until now how little her parents truly cared for her. They had been lenient, yes, but they had already decided how her life would play out in the end, whether she liked that ending or not. Her brave hero would not come to her rescue.
The realization hit her with such force that it knocked the breath out of her, tears flowing hot and fast. Cecilia staggered to the bedpost and wrapped her arms around it, but her legs could not support her weight any longer and she slowly sunk to the ground, her petticoat pooling up around her and making her feel like a pitiful child playing dress up.
“Clean yourself up. I expect to see you downstairs at the appointed time.” Mrs. Richards left the room, no warmth in her voice.
Suddenly, a pair of small hands gripped Cecilia’s upper arms, gentle but firm. Cecilia looked up, eyes blurred by tears but she could still make out the outline of Violet’s face. The maid had gotten down on her knees so as to be eye level with Cecilia.
>
“Come now, Miss Richards. Let’s get you up and ready for the ball. You’ll be the loveliest girl there by the time I’m done with you.” Violet spoke quietly and slowly, as if comforting a child.
Cecilia was grateful for it. She could barely string a single thought together, the only words that swirled in her mind the ones that had just been uttered with such cold-hearted disdain.
Cecilia allowed Violet to help her up and attend to her appearance for the ball, but she was only half aware of anything the girl did. She had no idea how she would survive this evening. Her heart and all her dreams had been crushed, but she must converse and dance as if the course of her future hadn’t been thrown off its rails.
For once, the glitter and activity of the ball did nothing to entice Cecilia into a convivial mood. One of her favorite moments at such events had always been the arrival—the butterflies of excitement converging in her stomach as she stepped out of the carriage and took in the house ablaze with candles in every window, the footmen passing platters of refreshments, the scores of ladies and gentlemen wearing their finest in an array of beautiful colors.
But tonight, the butterflies had been replaced by rolling waves of nausea. The home their carriage pulled up to looked like an ugly mismatch of architectural tastes. The footmen seemed like a swarm buzzing about the front steps and the foyer without purpose. And worst of all, the ladies and gentlemen turned out in their best looked garish and ostentatious.
Cecilia could hear the music of the musicians as they approached the ballroom and her heart twisted sharply. Heaven only knew how long she would have to endure this sickening show while she felt as though she would crumble at any moment.
“Sissy, whatever is the matter? You look as if you’ve just been told your childhood pony has died.”
Juliet sidled up next to Cecilia, breaking away from their parents in the general bustle of the ball. She’d chuckled as she spoke, but the look in Cecilia’s eye silenced her into true concern.
“Mama knows I turn every man down because I’m trying to find someone I can genuinely love. She threatened that if I don’t make more of an attempt to secure Lord Neil’s favor, she and Papa will take matters into their own hands...” Cecilia choked back a whimper, the cry that was desperate to be unleashed scraping against her throat as she swallowed it back down.
Juliet blanched at this. “Take matters into their own hands in what way?”
Cecilia couldn’t bear to look at her sister. She shook her head in defeat and closed her eyes, willing the tears to stay put for just a few hours. “They will make a match for me, whether I like the man or not.”
“Oh no...” Juliet sighed. “Don’t worry, darling. We’ll figure something out. I promise. Let’s just get through this wretched night.”
Juliet squeezed her sister’s hand lovingly. Cecilia heard the hesitation in Juliet’s voice as she made a promise that might be impossible to keep. But she knew that if they could just survive the ball, they could at least console each other in the privacy of their home.
The two girls caught up with their mother, who was busy chatting with other mothers chaperoning their marriageable children.
“Ah, here they come now, my lovely daughters. Why, at dinner last night, the Earl of Overton commented to his friend Lord Neil that Juliet’s eyes are just the same shade as the blue hyacinths grown in the garden at his estate,” Mrs. Richards cooed, grabbing each daughter by the hand and dragging them into her circle of acquaintances.
Cecilia’s mouth went dry and she thought she might be truly sick in the middle of the ballroom. Juliet looked about the same as Cecilia felt.
“Lord Overton and Lord Neil, you say. Their fortunes are certainly a catch, at least.” One of the women said slyly, raising her eyebrows expectantly. She was clearly in the mood for gossip.
Mrs. Richards took the bait without hesitation. “Whatever could you mean, Mrs. Brace?”
The other woman shrugged a shoulder nonchalantly. “It’s quite common knowledge that Lord Overton doesn’t court for long. Not unlike...” She trailed off, but the pointed look at Cecilia finished her sentence. “What I mean to say is, most believe that Lord Overton is loath to settle down. He may remain wifeless and heirless for years yet.
“And Lord Neil. Some say that making a match with that man is a laughable quest. Any wife of his would wither away in that house. He never goes out if he can help it, except when Lord Overton bullies him into it. And he always seems so very bored and unimpressed when he does go out. That's another fortune that will likely go to waste.”
Mrs. Brace sighed dramatically, expertly ignoring the way Mrs. Richards’s jaw twitched.
“I can assure you that both the earl and the baron are gentlemen of the highest quality.” Mrs. Richards smiled but spoke through gritted teeth.
Cecilia glanced down at her feet, the sick feeling in her stomach giving way to irritation.
She’d only heard a few mentions of Mrs. Brace in passing from her mother. The two were not close but Mrs. Richards nurtured any relationship that she thought might be advantageous for their family. Cecilia did not see this one lasting much longer given the several rude implications Mrs. Brace had made just now, not just against the gentlemen but against Cecilia as well.
A hot wave of anger surged through her breast, followed by an unexpected urge to defend Lord Neil.
Cecilia had just opened her mouth to state her opinions when Mrs. Richards tossed her head and jutted her chin into the air, looking down her nose at her acquaintance. “Come Cecilia, Juliet. I do believe refreshments are in order.”
But as she turned to leave their company behind, the very subjects of their discussion approached through the crowd. Cecilia didn’t try to conceal her glare at Mrs. Brace. She knew that if the woman dared open her mouth and speak such unkind things in their presence, Cecilia would not be able to conceal her contempt.
To Cecilia’s great satisfaction, Mrs. Brace flushed. She scurried toward Lord Overton and Lord Neil.
“My lords, you are both looking very well tonight!” She simpered, curtseying with grand affectation.
Cecilia wrinkled her nose at the nauseating display of hypocrisy. She caught Lord Neil’s eye and saw that he regarded her quizzically. She simply raised her eyebrows in exasperation, hoping that she answered his unspoken question. Based on his quickly suppressed chuckle, Cecilia knew that she had succeeded.
The quick, silent exchange sent an unbidden thrill through her heart. As Lord Overton asked their mother for the girls’ dance cards, Cecilia’s eyes remained locked on the baron’s. She sensed that he somehow understood her vexation, and she realized that she was eager to discuss her thoughts with him.
“We shall be back shortly,” Lord Overton announced, beaming at the group of women before turning on his heel and disappearing back into the crowd. Lord Neil followed suit.
The Richards women quickly abandoned Mrs. Brace and found an open spot near a table with light finger foods to await the next dance set.
“A truly vile woman,” Mrs. Richards scoffed as she bit into a morsel, her eyes sweeping over the crowded room with distaste.
“Oh really, Mother? As if you’re any better? All you plan on doing is selling us off to the highest bidder. And for what? So you can walk around London bragging about your good family name and looking down on everyone else?”
Both Cecilia’s and Mrs. Richards’s heads whipped around to stare at Juliet. Of course, Cecilia had been thinking the exact same thing. But she’d had no plans of voicing those thoughts, at least not so bluntly and not during the middle of a ball.
Juliet, however, had no such reservations. Her anger was nearly palpable in the air about them, her chest heaving up and down and her eyes narrowed in a severe glare.
“How dare you speak to me in such an unladylike manner?” Mrs. Richards matched her younger daughter’s gaze with her own nearly boiled over wrath.
“You speak as though you’re so much better than Mrs. Brace, but I a
ssure you you’re cut from the very same cloth. All you care about is improving your own reputation, and you don’t care who you hurt in the process. It’s disgusting.”
Juliet spat the words with such a fury that Cecilia had never seen or heard from her. She had greatly underestimated how this news would affect her sister, and she regretted sharing it at such an inappropriate time.
“Jules—” Cecilia put a hand upon the younger woman’s shoulder, but Juliet roughly brushed it off. She spun around and marched away into the throng of guests.
“What an insufferable girl!” Cecilia heard Mrs. Richards exclaim as she quickly followed behind her sister.
Cecilia caught up to Juliet’s shorter steps and overtook her, clasping one of her hands and redirecting her towards a quiet corner with some chairs. Juliet sat in one of the chairs, still trembling with anger, and Cecilia sank into the other.
“I hate that they’re doing this to us,” Juliet growled before Cecilia could speak.
“I know. But as you said earlier, we’ll figure something out. This is simply not the best time to do it.” Cecilia kept her hand around her sister’s, rubbing small circles with her thumb against the fabric of her glove.
Juliet fell silent for several moments, and Cecilia wondered if she were hatching some sort of grand plan right then and there. But a closer examination of her sister’s face indicated that her mind wasn’t working out a solution, but rather that it was fixated on some singular point.
Cecilia looked in the direction of Juliet’s gaze, and immediately understood what had her so transfixed. Lord Overton stood almost directly across from them on the other side of the room. He was wrapped up in a rather humorous looking conversation with several other gentlemen. As always, Lord Neil stood nearby, just a touch too far away to truly be part of the group.
“Jules, are you sure that such a thing as marriage is still so disagreeable to you?” Cecilia asked softly, careful to make sure her voice carried no judgement. She had struggled to understand Juliet’s viewpoint in the past, but she didn’t need to understand it to know how important this matter was to her sister.
Behind The Baron's Mask: A Regency Romance (Resolved In Love Book 1) Page 11