Legacy of the Watchers Series Boxed Set: Books 1-3

by Nancy Madore

  Before she could answer the waitress returned with the wine and cheese.

  “A ship is safe in harbor, but that’s not what ships are for.”

  — William G.T. Shedd

  Chapter 49

  October 27th

  BEACON’s Masquerade Ball at the Plaza

  Manhattan, New York

  Nadia took a moment to survey her handiwork. It was magnificent, elaborate, over the top—just as she had intended. Even her mother would have been impressed, and Nadia felt a pang of regret that Gisele wasn’t there to see it. She had no family to share this moment with—though she supposed her father might be out there, somewhere, watching the event on television with the rest of the world. Would he approve? She felt that he would—especially if he knew what she had planned behind the scenes.

  The guests were just beginning to arrive, lingering on the red carpet for the opportunity to be captured on film. Their costumes ran the gamut from elaborate ensembles that required hours of preparation, to elegant masks placed over their eyes. This latter was favored by women, and their masks had been custom made for the occasion. They came in all shapes and sizes, and were decorated in every imaginable way. There were wild and wispy feathers, precious gemstones, pearls, lace—one mask was completely encrusted in diamonds. But most of the guests appeared in full costume, sparing no expense to produce the most accurate likeness to the characters they were meant to represent. The costumes included historical figures as well as those belonging to fantasy, so kings and great warriors could be seen mingling among the many creatures that had sprung from imagination. Any character that had been made into a movie was fair game. There were epic personalities from blockbuster films, such as Rhett Butler and Scarlet O’Hara from Gone with the Wind (featuring Scarlett in the notorious red velvet dress, and Rhett wearing the elegant silk blouse and cravat). And there were an array of characters that were inspired by the classic films, like Mary Poppins, The Wizard of Oz and Grease. There were a number of superheroes who put in an appearance as well, including Batman, Spiderman and Thor, just to name a few. There were, as well, more macabre characters from such movies as Avatar, The Hobbit, Hellboy and even Carrie—which featured a gorgeous woman with long blond hair in an exquisite silk gown—all of which had been splattered so elegantly with blood-red liquid that she looked like a work of art. Most of the costumes rivaled the originals they were fashioned after. Nadia happened to know of a few that had been created by the same team of make-up artists that had been used on the actual movie set.

  Reporters hovered all around the red carpet to capture the most famous and outrageous on film.

  As for Nadia, she presented the perfect picture of Marie Antoinette, right down to her powdered hair, which was piled high up on her head, and her slim figure, which had been squeezed into an elaborate seventeenth century gown. Will had been pleased to take the complimentary role of Louis the Sixteenth. In fact, the costumes had been his idea and, in spite of the disastrous outcome suffered by the infamous couple, Nadia had jumped on it. She made a perfect Marie Antoinette and, strangely enough, the role of Louis the Sixteenth seemed to fit Will to a ‘T.’

  Inside, all of the wait staff—which included Clive and Gordon—was concealed beneath identical costumes of the Star War’s character, Chewbacca. It had been Clive’s idea, proposed mostly in jest. They were discussing the necessity of having a costume that would disguise them so completely that they would be able to roam freely throughout the Plaza with the other staff. They had laughed at the idea at the time, but later, after Nadia thought about it a while, it started to grow on her. The character of Chewbacca was not only a favorite among Star Wars enthusiasts, but it seemed to reflect the image of good will that Nadia wanted to convey. It was whimsical and nostalgic, and could be made more formal by dressing the creature in a tuxedo. The costume itself was very simple and comfortable to wear. It was designed by a makeup artist who worked with actors on Broadway, and consisted of four extremely lightweight hair pieces. The largest hair piece fit right over the head, to cover the top half of the face and the entire back of the head. The second piece covered the bottom half of the face. The final two pieces were worn over the hands. The tuxedo covered the rest. Special shoes with inserts were ordered to adjust the Chewbacca’s height enough so that they would be slightly taller than the average guest. This simple costume would render them completely unrecognizable.

  The effect was actually quite impressive. The all-male sentry of Chewbaccas brought an air of joviality to the occasion while preserving its dignity. Nadia knew that she had chosen well when she heard the gasps of pleasure from the guests as they spotted them, lined up and ready to serve.

  Or perhaps it was the room itself that caused the stir, for Nadia was sure that it had never looked lovelier. Though the Plaza was known for its majestic function rooms, Nadia had wanted her event to be unique and exceptional, especially for those patrons who had been to the Plaza before. With this in mind, she had brought in fourteen very ornate chandeliers with thousands of tiny crystals to reflect the light, along with five hundred over-stuffed, upholstered chairs so that the guests could dine, and be entertained, in absolute comfort. Each table was elaborately decorated with tall candles and an enormous bouquet of flowers, featuring, of course, a wealth of poppies, which are the California state flower.

  Nadia flitted through the crowd with a leisurely air. To everyone present, she must have seemed as cool as a cucumber. And in fact, there was nothing for her to do but to occasionally offer a greeting, or to point out the location of a particular table. She had prepared well. Every detail had been attended to.

  Inside, she was all turmoil. But Nadia didn’t worry that this would interfere with the night’s events. She was on auto-pilot, going through the motions mechanically. Having memorized her part, she had forbidden herself to think.

  As the guests began to enter the ballroom, they brought with them an undercurrent of excitement. Certain words kept registering with Nadia whenever she happened upon them—words like ‘amazing’ and ‘incredible’ and ‘surreal.’ Anticipation for the delights yet to come hung heavily in the air.

  So far, the media remained outside to cover the red carpet. The guests were very slow in making their way into the ballroom.

  There was an orchestra just off to one side of the enormous stage at the far end of the room. It consisted of a piano, a bass, two violas and twelve violins—and that was before you got to the horn section. The pièce de résistance—for Nadia at least—were the four oboes. It was her favorite instrument, having the power, in her opinion, to lift an entire orchestra from a mere musical performance to a state of grace. The oboe’s rich, compelling timbre would produce a poignant contrast to the invigorating accents of the violins. This combination had the power to make her heart beat faster. It was the perfect accent to set the mood for the evening ahead, and Nadia commended herself on this little detail that she had attended to. She had planned every detail of the entertainment as carefully as she had planned everything else.

  Per her instructions, the conductor began with Gabriel’s Oboe, a stirring melody that underscored the significance of the event while preserving the joyous atmosphere that she was determined it should have. Next would follow Prelude of Love, which was a delightful piece of music that had the power to fill the listener with wonder.

  The music, the lighting, the flowers—they all played a part to create just the right effect. And she was glad that she’d had the foresight to delegate every last piece of work in these final hours to someone else. She was in no frame of mind to handle even the simplest task. The atmosphere was having a strange effect on her. It was messing with her mind, titillating her sensations and leaving her agitated and uncertain. She had the peculiar impression that this evening would bring about the end of her world as she knew it, but she felt strangely detached, like a driver watching their car spin off the ice and over a cliff after losing control. Her world seemed to be spinning in much the same way. As h
er gaze swept over the ballroom, she caught the eye of Louis the Sixteenth, who was coming toward her. She watched him as he approached. The powdered wig, the paunch around the middle—it would’ve looked silly on anyone else. But Will brought a certain elegance to the costume. It was his self-assurance, she realized. He really might’ve been a king in another life. He was smiling at her, and she smiled back, hardly aware that she was doing it, like an infant mirroring the expression of the one it adores.

  “This is quite the shindig,” he said, handing her a glass of champagne. “Congratulations.”

  “It’s not over yet,” she said, but she clinked her glass with his and took a sip.

  “I can’t get over how well that costume suits you,” he remarked. “You could’ve been Marie Antoinette in another life.”

  “How strange,” she remarked. “I was just thinking the same about you.”

  “And here I was trying to pay you a compliment,” he said wryly.

  Nadia laughed. “So was I!” she insisted. She tilted her head, examining him thoughtfully. “I don’t know what it is,” she said. “Something about the powdered wig—or maybe it’s the stockings. Whatever it is, it’s working.”

  “Maybe it’s the belly,” he said. “What do you think? Should I give up the gym?”

  “Not yet,” she chuckled. “Let’s wait a few years.”

  Will captured her free hand in his and lifted it to his lips in the style of the French aristocracy. His gaze, when it returned to her face, was warmer than his breath had been on her skin. “Can I safely assume then, that you’re mine for at least another few years?”

  The directness of his question took Nadia’s breath away. Though she didn’t reply, it suddenly occurred to her how much she wanted the answer to be ‘yes.’

  Will didn’t appear to be waiting for an answer. He moved in closer and lowered his voice. “So, my fair queen,” he said, changing the subject, “any regrets?”

  An alarm went off in Nadia’s head. She searched his eyes for a hidden meaning behind the question. “None whatsoever,” she replied with a haughty air that she didn’t feel.

  King Louis raised an eyebrow. “But your subjects are starving,” he objected gently. His voice was little more than a caress now. “They say they have no bread.”

  Nadia was finding it hard to breathe. She could feel the rise and fall of her breasts in the tight fitting dress. Though there was every indication that he was speaking in jest, she felt as if a trap was being laid for her. She drank the rest of her champagne and then presented him with her arm, which he took. She felt a little like a queen as he led her to their table. A feeling of recklessness suddenly came over her and a determined smile curved her lips.

  “Then let them eat cake,” she murmured obstinately.

  Chapter 50

  Beth tried not to notice that she was causing a stir. They had bypassed the red carpet in an effort to avoid excess attention that might lead to questions about who they were. So far, it had not been all that hard to do. For the media at least, there were much bigger fish to fry. But Beth realized now that Isabella was right. She may have gone too far. Curious glances seemed to be coming from every direction.

  “You’re causing quite the sensation,” remarked Isabella. Though Beth couldn’t see her face, she could hear the warning in her voice. “Whatever you do, remember your lines if anyone asks who you are.”

  “I’m just a nurse from Alaska who cashed in her life savings for a good cause,” she said.

  “That’s right,” said Isabella. “And I’m your date.”

  Beth frowned. “I doubt anyone will believe that,” she said. “You’re smaller than I am.”

  “With any luck, they will have lost interest by that time and moved on to someone else,” said Isabella.

  It was strange to have Isabella’s beautiful face hidden behind a Guy Fawkes mask, but having caught their reflection in one of the windows, Beth had to admit that they made a striking couple.

  It had been Beth’s idea—though she had intended to wear the Guy Fawkes mask herself. She’d been fascinated with it ever since that night she saw it on Wayne’s computer. It obviously meant something to him, and she wanted to know why. She began with a search on Guy Fawkes, who was a conspirator against the crown of England in the sixteenth century. He was hanged, drawn and quartered, and his death was celebrated, but somehow, over the years, he had become a symbol of revolution. All of this had led Beth to the movie, V for Vendetta, which Isabella and Asmund watched with her. But the movie had such a negative effect on Beth that she actually became sick before it ended. There seemed so many similarities between the ‘evil’ fascist regime in the movie and T.D.M.R. She felt a strange kinship to the main character, Evey, and had started identifying the ‘anonymous’ character with Wayne.

  “I think we have our costumes for the ball,” she said later. Surprisingly, Isabella instantly agreed. But she insisted on being the one to wear the Guy Fawkes costume.

  “But you’re much more suited to be Evey,” objected Beth.

  “I don’t think so,” said Isabella. “And for this particular affair, I think it will work to my advantage to be a man. And this way I won’t have to change my hair. It’s exactly suited for the part.” And it was. The dark waves fell all around the mask for a startling likeness to the character in the movie.

  “Well, my hair’s not exactly right for the part of Evey, either,” said Beth.

  “I disagree,” said Isabella. “You have thick, curly hair, just like hers. It’s just a little too red. I believe you can have the color changed.”

  Beth frowned. “I don’t know,” she said. “I’ve never colored my hair before. Maybe I’d be better off wearing a wig.”

  Isabella gave her a look. “This is a very elegant affair,” she said. “Every detail has to be perfect.”

  So Beth had gotten her hair cut and colored in the exact style of Evey. But it still didn’t seem like enough.

  “I doubt people will recognize my character,” she said.

  “Mine will be the character they recognize,” insisted Isabella.

  So they went shopping. Isabella was fitted for a tuxedo with a luxurious black cape and matching hat. But Beth’s costume would prove much harder. Nothing seemed quite right. The problem was that the character she was depicting never actually wore anything that would be appropriate for this event, so there was no dress to simulate. They would have to find something original to reflect Evey’s personality. It would most definitely have to be subtle and understated, while at the same time being utterly fabulous. They flew to Seattle to go hunting for a dress.

  They found the solution to their problem in a small bridal shop in Bellevue. The shop owner was a seamstress who actually made many of the dresses she sold in her shop. The craftsmanship was flawless—as was reflected in the price. When presented with Beth’s dilemma, the shopkeeper enthusiastically drew up a sketch, filling it in with colored pencil as she went.

  It was magnificent. The shopkeeper proposed a very lightweight, flesh colored dress that would descend off one shoulder and flow luxuriously (and very flatteringly) over Beth’s figure to the floor. She suggested diamond earrings and bracelet for accessories—both of which Beth approved. Isabella was beside herself.

  “It’s perfect!” she kept insisting.

  And it was. The dress, which arrived two weeks later, fit Beth like a glove. It was flattering, subtle and utterly charming. Still, Beth wasn’t quite satisfied. “I just don’t think I look enough like Evey,” she said.

  Isabella considered her thoughtfully. Finally she came up with an idea. “Why not wear a mask,” she suggested.

  “A mask?” echoed Beth.

  “Yes,” said Isabella. “A pale, flesh colored mask to match your dress. That, with the hair and the dress, will make you a dead ringer.”

  The woman at the bridal shop was more than happy to assist them again, and in less than a week Beth had a mask to match her dress.

  But it wa
sn’t until the night before the masquerade ball, when she and Isabella were in their hotel room in New York City, that Beth put the final touch on her costume. It suddenly occurred to her that there was one thing she could do to guarantee that her character would be recognized. It was one of those split-second decisions that people always ended up regretting, but once she got the idea in her head there was no turning back. She didn’t even tell Isabella what she was planning to do. She just took out the scissors and cut off all her hair. She cut it right to the scalp, and then lathered what was left in shampoo before carefully shaving her head.

  The horror didn’t set in until a few minutes after she was finished.

  “Oh no!” she cried, staring at herself in the mirror. “What have I done?”

  Isabella tapped on the door. “Are you alright in there?” she asked.

  Beth opened the door and prepared for the worst. “What do you think?”

  Isabella just stared at her in stunned surprise. Then she sat on the bed.

  “Is it that bad?” asked Beth.

  “No, it’s actually quite good,” replied Isabella indignantly. “It will definitely clear up any confusion over who you’re supposed to be!”

  “Then why are you so upset?” asked Beth.

  Isabella couldn’t seem to take her eyes off Beth’s head. “Because I don’t think it’s wise for us to draw too much attention to ourselves,” she said. But it appeared that she was growing a little calmer. She tilted her head sideways as she studied Beth’s new look. “Although,” she added thoughtfully, “this will definitely put me in the background.”

  “So you think it’ll be okay?” asked Beth.

  “Well…it certainly elevated your costume from ordinary to extraordinary,” she said. “I can’t get over how perfectly shaped your head is.”

  Beth laughed. “I know,” she said. “But my face! I look like a man!”