Comical, and very useful. Without even seeing the Duke at all, not even to catch a glimpse of him, Ella was able to make her way through the entrance hall with ease. She handed her hooded cloak to a waiting footman and carefully watched where he hung it so that she could take it back for herself when she made her illicit exit later that evening.
She smiled to herself, pleased that she was already paying a good deal of attention to detail. She would not let Violet down, nor William, she was most determined.
Ella was relieved to note that the ballroom was full to capacity when she entered. She made her way immediately to a table where fruit punch was being served and gratefully accepted a cup from a smiling, handsome young footman.
She looked all around the room, keen to speedily discover the whereabouts of her mother and the Earl and his daughters. She knew she needed to locate them quickly so that she could keep her eye on them all night. She could not slacken in that, for she needed to know their every move. After all, their every move would likely dictate her own.
As she stared around, grateful for the anonymity that such a fulsome mask provided, she made a good study of many of the other guests. The masks were the usual sort of small and pretty eye covering that did not disguise a young lady completely. No doubt her step-sisters were wearing something similar.
It seemed to her that young ladies everywhere were on their guard, as taut as it was possible to be as they looked surreptitiously this way and that for any sign that the Duke was nearby. They were no doubt waiting impatiently for him to finish greeting the last of his guests, all of them hoping for their chance of a few minutes with him.
And the families looked equally taut, so aware of their surroundings as they eyed other families and other daughters. It really was a dreadful sight. So many beautiful young ladies all prepared to be bartered away by proud fathers, men who wanted the reflected glory of a wonderful title, not to mention the connections it would afford them.
How glad she was for her own dear father. Even though Winston Winfield had passed, that wonderful old Baron had never thought for a moment to push his daughter into such a thing. Even though Ariadne had badgered him for years, determined that he should go out of his way to find a suitable match for Ella, he had never done so. All he wanted in the world was for his daughter to be happy in the choice that she made, and he was determined that the choice was hers.
Even though she had lost him so very early, Ella realized how grateful she was to ever have had him at all. Although he had been in her life but twenty years, he was the most important, wonderful influence that a young woman could ever hope for. He had taught her to have self-respect, to value herself more highly than she might otherwise have done.
He was the one who had taught her that she was not just a pretty face, not just a suitable hanger for a beautiful gown. She was a person with likes and dislikes, with humour and humility, with intelligence and poise. And, as long as she lived, she would never forget that.
At that moment, her eyes fell upon the Earl of Dandridge, and her heart almost stopped beating. For a dreadful moment, she felt as if their eyes had met, and she wondered if he had recognized her instantly. She felt rooted to the spot, not needing to fight the urge to run away because her legs would not move even if she had made that demand of them. She was suddenly terrified.
And then, just as quickly as he had looked at her, he looked away again. He was smiling and nodding at an acquaintance and quickly fell into conversation, despite the fact that he remained extraordinarily vigilant, probably waiting for the Duke as much as every other ambitious father in the room.
Ella decided to keep moving, choosing not to linger in any one place lest anybody tried to strike up conversation with her. The more she moved, the less people would realize that she was a woman alone, a thing most unlikely at any event, and certainly a ball.
All the while, she kept her eyes on the family she so despised.
When an elderly gentleman whose mask showed that he had put in very little effort at all approached the Earl, Ella studied him with interest. Not just because of the way he had approached her stepfather, but because he had approached with a younger man. The man wore such a full mask that he could hardly be made out at all. But he was tall and broad, that much she could tell, and his hair was as black as coal and gleamed under the light of the chandeliers.
She knew, without a doubt, that he must be the Duke of Hillington. Even though she had not spied him at all when she had made her illicit way in through the great entrance hall, she could tell by the way that her family suddenly reacted that he must surely be the man himself.
Ronald Bellville, ordinarily such a pompous man who held himself straight-backed and aloof, seemed stooped, albeit just a little. It was a deferential stoop, one which spoke volumes about the difference in the relative statuses of the two men. It was certainly a sight that Ella had never imagined seeing, and she had to stifle a laugh as she watched from afar.
Patience and Georgiana, by contrast, had become even more puffed up and preening than ever. As the little group talked, both young women continually tossed their heads and pushed out their ample busts in a most obvious manner. And, every so often, they passed each other frustrated, appraising little looks.
How funny the little competition looked, especially when they had identical blonde hair, and their masks hid any tiny differences between them. It was a ridiculous competition, and one that was still so very distasteful to Ella. And yet, as distasteful as it was, it really was so amusing.
For a moment, she wished she knew what they were all saying, and had to content herself with imagining it all. No doubt Ronald would be at his charming best, hiding the worst of his nature quite successfully beneath an endless stream of platitudes.
But the girls would be unable to contain themselves, with Patience undoubtedly inserting into the conversation that she was the oldest, so she must come first. Perhaps she would even say that she ought to be married before her sister, Georgiana.
Oh, how wonderful it would be to have such a disguise that she could stand right next to them without them knowing. What fun she would have to stand so close and hear exactly how it was they conducted themselves in such a situation.
The older man with the grey hair and the small eye mask seemed to do a good deal of the talking, spending more time with the Earl than the Duke himself did. For his part, the Duke did not seem particularly animated, but rather bored.
Every so often, he looked around as if searching for some escape and, once again, Ella found herself almost laughing. What a peculiar set of people they were. The Duke seemed so uncomfortable that she would have felt sorry for him, had she not already found his mode of finding a wife to be so at odds with everything she thought was right.
And yet, there was something in the way he stood. Something in the way he turned his head now and again. And his mask was so incredibly full, it was as if he did not want to be known. But he was being introduced as the Duke of Hillington, she had no doubt. How curious he was.
After some minutes, the Duke excused himself and set off across the ballroom to make some conversation with somebody else altogether.
The grey-haired man, however, continued to converse with Ronald, who looked pleased with himself as if everything had gone very well.
He was straight-backed once more, and Ella thought it amazing how his pompous character could be cast off and thrown on again like a cloak. How very duplicitous people in society really were!
She watched them for a while longer, continuing to move around the place as she did so. She made her way back to the table for another glass of fruit punch and stood at its far end watching for a while.
“Are you enjoying the punch, My Lady?” A very deep and rich voice startled her out of her single-minded surveillance of her family.
Ella turned to look and almost gasped when she saw the full and somewhat long-beaked mask of the Duke of Hillington.
“Yes, very well indeed, sir,” she
said, keen to not give away her hand and let him know that she realized immediately who he was. After all, it was a masquerade ball, and she would do well to feign ignorance of his identity. “I am extraordinarily fond of fruit punch,” she said and then laughed at the ridiculousness of her assertion.
“Well, then so am I,” he said and laughed also. “Tell me, are you enjoying the masquerade ball?”
“Yes, I am enjoying it very well. There is something very freeing about a mask, is there not?” she said and began to enjoy herself a little.
Ella realized that she could speak quite freely with a man whom, ordinarily, she would be expected to be in awe of. But if she could claim ignorance of his identity, then she could continue to have a little adventure and come out of the thing unscathed.
After all, the two of them had never met, and so there was no chance of him recognizing her. And, after the evening was finished, she would run off into the night, and he would never be any the wiser that the young lady who had spoken to him so boldly was not a fine lady, but simply the Honorable Ella Winfield, daughter of the late Baron Winfield.
“I think there is too, My Lady, but I should like to hear your reasons for saying so.”
“And why would you like to hear my reasons for saying so?” She was fighting against all reason, the very core of her being willing her to caution, even though she would not heed it.
“To see if it matches with mine, why else?” He laughed, and it was so deep that she could almost feel it in her chest.
“Well, since I am a firm believer that such frankness should be rewarded, I will tell you the truth,” she said in a mock haughty tone.
“Please do,” he said with interest.
“My main reason for enjoying a mask, a very good mask it has to be said, is that it allows one to stare freely around the room without drawing attention. I am able to observe my fellow revelers without them realizing it. Do you not think that is strange that people do not see you sometimes, just because you have covered your face?”
“What a very fine observation.” The Duke sounded impressed, and there was something in the tone of his voice that suggested to her most clearly that he was smiling. If only the mask did not cover his face in its entirety, for she thought at that moment that she would have liked to have seen his smile. A smile so often gave away a person; so often it said so much more about their personality than their words did initially. “And a very true and honest one. I must say, I admire your frankness.”
“Ah, but does my frankness exist in its own right, sir, or is it simply a facet of my anonymity?” she spoke in a tantalizing tone, and he seemed to turn towards her just a little more, growing just a little closer.
“I have spoken to many young ladies this evening, and not one of them has spared me an ounce of frankness,” he said and sounded suddenly a little less amused. “And they all wore masks too, so your theory is upended.”
“Oh dear, you do not seem to have had a very promising evening thus far, sir,” Ella said and hoped that his sudden change in demeanor was more to do with the rest of his guests and much less to do with her. Quite why she was finding him suddenly so interesting, she could not say, but it was a fact. “Or at least you do not sound as if you have had a pleasant time of it.”
“You are quite right, my good lady. I have not had a pleasant evening at all.”
“And might a masked lady of true anonymity enquire as to why such a tall and well-spoken gentleman with so fine and fulsome a mask has had such an evening without promise of any kind?” She smiled, and she saw his eyes dart to her lips.
It was the first time that she had really taken note of his eyes, which was curious since that was the only part of his face that was visible. They were very dark indeed, and she knew they must be brown, surely, but they looked somehow black in the light. With such black hair and mask that was fully black, his eyes ought to have seemed a little ominous, yet they did not. There was something wide, bright, and appealing about them.
“This particular masked lady might ask whatever she likes,” he said with a laugh, returning to his original humour. “And in the spirit of frankness, I wonder if I can tell you the entire truth of it all?” And now it was his turn to speak in a tantalizing fashion.
“You have me hanging on a piece of string, sir. You really must tell me the entire truth of it all; you must put me out of my misery.” She laughed and took a sip of the fruit punch as she wondered what could possibly be coming next.
“Well, without wishing to boast at all, it is true to say that there are a good many young ladies here this evening who are very keen to become my wife,” he began in humorous earnest.
“Good heavens, what a sore trial that must be,” Ella interjected, and he laughed in such a wonderfully unguarded fashion that she felt curiously drawn to him.
“You have hit the nail on the head, My Lady, for it turns out to be the sorest trial of my life.”
“Am I to take it that you do not wish for a wife, however many beautiful young ladies seem intent to throw themselves at you?” She was amused and amusing all at once.
“I do wish for a wife, more than anything. But I do not wish that any of the young ladies presented to me this evening turns out to be the young lady I spend the rest of my life with.” He paused and lowered his voice further still. “Does that make me sound terribly ungrateful?”
“No, it makes you sound terribly honest,” Ella said brightly. “But tell me, how is it that a man who is tall and broad and in a position to have so many young ladies throw themselves at him, is not already married to the finest woman in all the county?”
“Because I have yet to find one who is truly interested in me.”
“And how is that possible, sir? Did you not say yourself that the room is crammed with young ladies all keen to throw themselves into your path, under your very own hooves, so to speak?”
“Goodness me, you really are very amusing,” he said with a laugh. “But it is not me that they are interested in, My Lady. They are all interested in what a marriage to me would provide for them.”
“Then you must be a very important man,” Ella said knowingly.
“I suppose it depends on how you judge a man’s importance,” he mused.
“Ah, you make a very good point, sir,” Ella said and suddenly thought of her own father again. “For I was raised to judge a person on their own merit, not on an agreeable face, or even more agreeable status and circumstance.”
“Then you were raised very well, I must say.”
“I was raised by a very fine man, a very fine man indeed.” Her voice dropped to almost a whisper as she fought the old emotion of grief once again.
“And I am very sorry for your loss,” he said, and for an awful moment, Ella thought that the Duke knew exactly who she was.
But of course, he could not, for they had never met, and as far as she was aware, her father had not been at all acquainted with the man.
“But how …?” she said with no idea how to finish the sentence.
“I can tell by the sadness in the voice that you have lost your father. Forgive me, I did not mean to upset you.”
“You did not upset me, sir. I daresay thoughts of my father will always make me a little sad.”
“No, not always,” he said with clear knowledge. “It is clear that it is not long since you lost him. And I can tell by your pretty lips that you are a very young lady, so I am sorry for you that you have lost him so young. But I lost my father young also, and I am pleased to be able to tell you that the pain does lessen as the years go by. And then, one day in the future, you will have a memory of your father, and instead of feeling your eyes fill with tears, you will feel a smile on your lips, and even a little laughter in your heart.”
“What a beautiful thing to say,” Ella said truthfully. “And I cannot begin to tell you how touched I am by that. I cannot begin to tell you how grateful I am.” And, by instinct, and without thinking for a moment, she reached out to take his ha
nd, giving it a little squeeze before releasing him.
When she looked up, she realized that he was staring at her intently. She was sure that she had done the wrong thing, sure that he must think that she was dreadfully forward like almost every other young lady in the place.
“So, how are you to pick through so many young ladies?” she said, suddenly desperate to change the subject.
“Well, I have the assistance of my very oldest acquaintance.” He nodded over in the direction of the grey-haired man with the very minimal mask. “Henry Mercer is my attorney, and he was my father’s attorney before me. He is doing all the hard work, I am bound to say.”
“If you do not care for any of the young ladies in your company, why are you suddenly so keen to marry? If that is not too impertinent question, sir,” she said with another laugh, glad that he had taken her small and inappropriate act in his stride.
Kind Ella and the Charming Duke: A Historical Regency Romance Book Page 6