Not having any idea what women wore to such a party, Ginny settled on the her most revealing gown. With her corset, it made her boobs look huge and her waist look small. The coloring was innocent, but she figured it would be dark and no one would notice with the ample bosom she'd be displaying.
After dressing, she found a mask that covered half her face, from the nose up. With her hair put up, flowers woven in, she looked like some sort of Greek goddess, with soft tendrils framing her face and mask.
Sneaking down the back stairs, Ginny knew that most of the staff would be having their own dinner at that moment. It was easy to slip out the side door of the townhouse and make her way up the alley. She was covered from head to toe in a long, black cape, hood up over her hair and face. Once on the street, she was able to hail a hackney to deliver her to the appropriate address.
During the ride, Ginny felt some pangs of worry. Truthfully, she knew she could handle herself and not end up in a position she didn't want to be in, but if she were to be discovered, Sarah would not be able to ever marry respectably. The scandal would ruin her family, embarrass her parents, and leave her living in the country for the rest of Sarah's days.
With all that going through her mind, she still knew she'd do it. If she had to live another life, she might as well enjoy it. And if she was discovered at the party? Would she give it all away, just to make a point that she was still in control of her own life, even if it wasn't actually her life? One way to find out, she mused as the hackney stopped abruptly and she opened the door to get out.
She handed the driver a coin, which must have been more than necessary since the man tipped his hat and asked if she wanted him to wait for her. Refusing his kind offer, the driver took off in a hurry, obviously needing to make more money that evening.
Ginny walked up the short steps and knocked on the door. It creaked open slowly and a tall, gaunt man stared at her, standing mostly behind the door. At first, Ginny thought of a haunted house on Halloween. The man only stared at her, without saying a word. So Ginny used her ace in the hole.
“Bacchus.”
The door opened all the way and she was led inside a darkened entryway. Candles lit up the corners, leaving most of the foyer in shadow. There were doors open on either side, with more candlelight pouring through. Several sconces lit up the large stairway in the front of the room. Ginny could hear whispers of conversation, laughter and giggling.
“May I take your cape, miss?” Lurch had finally spoken and it nearly sent Ginny out of her skin.
“Yes, of course,” she said, untying the front and handing it to the butler.
Without another word, the man disappeared behind the staircase. Ginny stood still for a minute, trying to figure out where to go. Remembering what the woman had said about going to the correct room, Ginny went to the one on her right, peering in and seeing nothing disgusting going on. As she entered, she saw several people, talking in small groups and drinking wine. Everyone was masked, some more elaborate than others. She spotted men rubbing women's arms, but that was the extent of the touching. Ginny didn't think she should be disappointed, but part of her was. Didn't seem very lewd to her.
A footman walked up to her holding a tray of beverages. Ginny turned to take a glass of wine from his tray when she noticed that the footman also had on a mask, but no shirt. After spending so much time during a period where prude was king, Ginny felt startled by the sight. A shirtless man was hardly that risqué, but it had the power to cause a little cough of embarrassment to slip from her lips.
Taking the glass, she murmured a thank you. The footman was staring into her eyes, which was strange for a servant.
“I am available, if you are interested,” he said, a seductive smile on his lips.
Sputtering, Ginny replied, “Uh... well... thank you. I... I will let you know if I'm interested. Thanks.” She moved away quickly, resisting the urge to look back at the obviously young man offering himself up as one of the delights of the party. Thank God for the dim lighting, she thought as she felt a blush creep up her chest, neck and cheeks.
Taking a sip of the wine, needing the alcohol to both bolster her courage and resolve, Ginny continued taking a turn around the room. She felt several pairs of eyes on her, but wouldn't make eye contact in return. All her confidence had flown out the window, all from an encounter with a footman. She was truly pathetic.
Meaningless sexual liaisons were not her forte, or her preference. When she thought back to her other adventures, there was always a connection with the men she slept with. One night stands and tawdry encounters were not her cup of tea, but she was still determined to stay and see what there was to see.
Leaving the first room, Ginny crossed the hallway and entered another parlor. Still sipping her wine, feeling the calming effects taking over her mind, she gazed over the small crowd lounging on settees and padded chairs. As she passed a couple, she overheard the man making bawdy innuendos to his partner, who was in turn giggling and hitting him with her fan. Some of his suggestions would require an acrobat's flexibility, she thought as she continued her turn around the room.
Ginny stopped at a painting that was displayed on a stand by the room's fireplace. Enjoying the warmth from both the fire and the wine, she examined the piece for a moment. It was a classic picture of naked women, with abundant features, lying around eating fruit. Ginny was certain she'd seen something similar on a trip to an art museum. As she continued her examination, she felt a hand go up her bare arm and a nose sniff behind her ear.
“You smell delicious, my dear. What is that scent you wear?” The voice was low and seductive, but something started ringing alarms bells inside Ginny's head. She couldn't put her finger on what had raised the goose pimples on her arms, so she turned around to face the first gentleman to approach her.
Although he was wearing a mask, she instantly recognized him. Her whole body froze, from her legs that desperately wanted to walk away, to her mouth that wanted to utter an excuse and get as far away from that spot as humanly possible. She continued to stare at him, without the ability to do anything, even dash his advances. Fortunately, he only took her hand in his and kept up a stream of dirty talk the likes of which a sailor would have trouble keeping up with.
Before she could do anything to save herself, a footman, this one with his shirt on, walked over and spoke.
“Sir, you have an urgent message waiting for you at the door.”
A look of annoyance came over his face like a blanket. “Very well,” he uttered to the servant. Then, turning his attention back to Ginny, he said, “Wait here, my dear. I should not be more than a minute or two.”
As he walked away, Ginny was finally able to take a breath. Before a serious case of shivers could come over her, another man came up behind her, took her by the arm and led her away. Although she didn't know who he was, there was one thing she did know. That he wasn't her father.
********
After leaving the ball the night before, his friends all shared a carriage to their next stop, White's. Once ensconced in a parlor with drinks in hand, it was Devon who was the first to ask what had happened.
Trying to sound casual, so Conway wouldn't clam up and leave, Devon said, “Lady Sarah looked somewhat displeased when she left the dining room, Conway. Whatever could you two have been talking about?”
Although Doncaster and Townshend remained quiet, they leaned forward to listen to what their friend had to say. It was obvious that Conway had fallen for the Dunworthy chit. Would he be the first to succumb to her charms, ending up in the parson's noose?
“Nothing, I assure you. She merely needed to go to the retiring room.”
Arching an eyebrow, Doncaster revealed, “She looked much improved when she came out of the retiring room, to be sure. I saw her join her mother and sister and her next dance partner. She was smiling during the dance.”
A look of annoyance came over Conway's face. “Who was her partner?”
“Colonel Horton, I believe. The youn
ger son of the Earl of Bedford. Perhaps she was laughing at him, since he is such a horrible dancer.”
Conway turned away and sipped his brandy. He thought back on his behavior and it made him cringe. With any hope, his rudeness had driven her away and she would avoid him in the future, thus taking the decision out of his hands. God knew that if left to him, he would pursue her to the ends of the earth.
The three friends glanced at each other, signaling with their eyes. It was finally Devon who was brave enough to speak. “I have an idea, Conway. It has been months since you've had a girl in your bed. I happen to know that Lady Sinclair is having one of her parties tomorrow night. Why do we not attend and see where it leads.”
Rolling his eyes, then staring into his glass of brandy, he said, “You think that all I need is a warm body to stop me from acting like such a bloody fool?”
“I cannot see how it would hurt. Come on, Oliver. Surely you would not turn down the opportunity to relieve some tension.”
It had been months since he and his mistress had parted ways. It had been his intention to find someone new, but something always prevented him. The more he thought about it, the more it made sense. Lady Sarah wasn't so extraordinary. He was just desperate.
“I think you may be right, Devon. Perhaps it would be a good idea to attend. Shall I pick you up around ten.”
Smiling his lady killer smile, he responded, “Of course.”
********
What seemed like an excellent idea the night before, was less so as he stood talking to a woman in the parlor of Lady Sinclair's townhome. Although masked, he could tell that the woman before him was pretty, with a curvy figure and soft, blond hair. Her voice was low and her lips were full, but all Conway could think about was Sarah.
As they continued their small talk, Conway was distracted by Devon leaving the room with a tall, willowy creature wrapped around his arm. She giggled at something Devon whispered in her ear and he was flashing his ever present smile. Perhaps the party was better suited to some, but Conway knew he would not end up with a woman that evening. Somehow he'd become attached to the one woman who would only be available to him if he made the ultimate sacrifice.
Pardoning himself from his partner with an excuse to get more wine, the woman didn't seem disappointed at all. She merely turned and began a new conversation with another gentleman who had been patiently waiting for her to be free. Retrieving another glass of wine, Conway sat quietly in a corner, mostly in shadow, watching the proceedings, but not really seeing them.
When a new woman walked into the room, he stared at her as she cautiously made her way into the room. One of the “footmen” made his way over with his tray of wine. Conway was not one to judge, but he knew that the young men who served wine at these parties were there not only for the women, but those men who preferred male company. He had always wondered where Lady Sinclair found these men, all handsome and fit and willing to do whatever was asked of them.
When he heard the woman sputter, obviously frazzled by the shirtless man, he smiled. A newcomer was always easy to spot, especially by the way she moved away from the footman, obviously not looking back. He could just imagine how red her skin was, as her movements made her look both embarrassed and guilty.
She passed by his spot, never glancing in his direction, when Conway smelled her perfume waft by. It immediately triggered a memory of dancing with Lady Sarah the evening before. He'd never smelled the scent before he'd met the girl, so it seemed strange that this woman would have the same one. His cackles were raised with the thought that Lady Sarah would attend such a party. Shaking his head, he chastised himself over what he would have hoped for, rather than what was actually possible. With the poor lighting, he knew his mind was playing tricks on him.
As the young woman drank her wine, he saw her hand shaking. She was obviously out of her element and now he knew he would have to save her from herself. What if she ended up in the arms of one of the more lecherous men, who liked certain types of bed sport that most women would find disturbing.
Standing up, he watched her leave the room, but not before he could clearly see the turn of her head. Even with the mask, he knew it was Sarah. The chin and the neckline were hers, and he would know as he had been studying her closely at every party they attended together.
A jolt of fear went through him as he went to follow her. Before he could leave the room, another woman stopped him with her hand and gave him a look of pure lust. Trying not to be rude, he smiled and whispered, “Later, my dear. I have other business to attend to.” With a wink, he was able to walk away without causing a scene.
Just as he entered the room across the way, he saw who was approaching Sarah. As she stood, studying a painting near the fireplace, Lord Weston came up to her from behind. In that frozen moment, as he watched the man place his hand up her arm, Conway was at a loss of what to do. If he approached, not only could it give away that Weston was soliciting his own daughter, but also that Conway was in attendance. In the case of Lord Weston, what was good for the goose was most certainly not good for the gander.
He watched as Sarah turned around and knew instantly that she recognized the man before her. Finally breaking his paralysis, Conway grabbed the first footman he could find, pressing a guinea in his hand and giving him a message to give Lord Weston. The footman complied, going immediately to deliver the message. Conway entered the room right behind the footman, coming up from behind Sarah and grabbing her arm as soon as Lord Weston left the room.
Still in a shocked state, Sarah complied, allowing him to lead her to the nearest empty room available. As it turned out, it was Lady Sinclair's library, complete with a lock and a guarantee that it was not a viewing room, as were many of the upstairs bedrooms. With a sigh of relief, Conway locked the door and turned to care for his flabbergasted lady.
Chapter 8
Ginny knew everything that was going on around her, but was disinclined to speak. If she opened her mouth, the only sound to come out would be, “Ewwww.” Sarah's own father had been trying to seduce her, and judging by the talk, in ways that even Ginny was unfamiliar with.
Her savior moved about the room, first putting more wood on the fire and stoking it to a bright flame. Then by pouring two drinks from the sideboard. Walking to stand in front of her, he handed her the glass with a light, amber liquid. She took it without argument and swallowed the whole glass without complaint.
“Better?” he asked, taking the seat across from her.
Ginny looked up and stared at the man. Of course she knew who it was. Who else would it be but her mega-hunk love interest? Without another word, she reached up and untied her mask and allowed it to fall to her lap. Then she held out her glass and asked, “May I have another?”
Before grabbing her glass, Conway removed his mask as well. Throwing it to a small table in between the chairs, he stood and retrieved her and himself another drink. Neither said anything for a number of minutes, until he finally broke the silence.
“How is it you find yourself here, Lady Sarah?” His tone was not accusing, merely curious.
Staring into his eyes, she smiled. She took a deep breath and answered as honestly as she could. “Because I'm a huge idiot. And I think that after tonight, you may call me Sarah.”
He returned her smile and replied, “Please call me Oliver, if you will.”
Nodding her head, sipping her drink, the room fell into a heavy silence once again. Ginny knew she had a big thank you to make, as well as an apology, but she was enjoying the quiet too much to break it just then. Waiting a few more moments, knowing he was waiting for her to make her move, she finally shook the heebie jeebies she was feeling away and turned to stare into his eyes.
“What can I say, Oliver. You saved me big time. Thank you.” She was incredibly sincere, because every word was the truth.
“How, Sarah?” was all he asked, but she knew exactly what he wanted to hear.
“Last night, after I left you in the dining roo
m, I went to the ladies room. Two women came in... I don't know who they were, but they were talking about this party. I was curious, so I made an excuse to my mother and came here instead of the party she wanted me to go to.”
“Why? Being seen here would not only ruin your reputation, but destroy your family as well.”
Ginny felt silly as the tears formed in her eyes, but nonetheless, she knew she was guilty. It had been stupid. It wasn't as though she didn't know about the depraved things two people could do together. She had no reason to come, other than to stick it to the man beside her for being so mean to her the night before.
“I know it was stupid. I have been feeling very... stifled. When I heard the women talking, I wanted to do something risky and crazy... and... and I wanted to get back at you for being mean to me last night.” When he looked as though he would speak, Ginny held up a hand to stop him. “I know it was ridiculous. Beyond ridiculous, but I wasn't thinking logically.”
Oliver looked sad that he had anything to do with this debacle. “Last night... I...” he began, but she cut him off immediately.
A Lesson in Friendship Page 9