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Behind her she heard someone say, 'My dear, that is the most magnificent costume. I do envy you, even though I don't have the figure to wear it any longer.' Turning round, Christy recognised one of her mother's friends. 'Where on earth did you get it?'
Smiling, she explained.
'Oh, well, that explains it. It really is stunning. Yes, I can see Shakespeare's Kate in that, quarrelling with Petruchio.'
'I'd better get to the ballroom, and check that the musicians have arrived,' Christy excused herself.
In the ballroom only the wall lights were illuminated, with low-wattage bulbs, and the soft pink glow they cast had a softening effect on the room. The wooden floor had been polished by volunteers from the WI before being chalked, and the musicians were already in place on the small raised stage. One of them raised his head and whistled appreciately as Christy hurried towards them, and Christy dipped him a mock curtsy, only to tense as she felt the heated pressure of eyes boring into the back of her neck.
She knew before she turned round who was looking at her. Dominic was standing with Amanda, who was chatting animatedly to her godmother, far too intent on her own conversation to be aware of her escort's slow and thorough scrutiny of Christy's white and silver figure. It was a long time before he lifted his eyes to her face, and Christy felt the whole room sway around her as she read the savage contempt in their depths. She wanted to cry out against it, and like someone under a numbing spell she moved slowly as though through water as she dragged her gaze away and tried to resume her conversation with the musicians.
'Ah, Christy. Everything seems to be under control. The ladies from the WI have provided a first-class buffet. Have you seen it yet?'
Thankfully Christy turned to the Major, accepting his invitation to, as he put it, 'Inspect the troops'.
'You're not supposed to be able to recognise me with this mask on,' she teased him mock-reproachfully.
'Oh, I'd recognise that red hair of yours anywhere!'
All the women were to retain their masks until twelve o'clock when their partners, who would presumably be quite well aware who they were, could demand their removal or payment of a forfeit. This had been Lady Anthony's suggestion, and Christy had thought it a good idea, in view of the romantic theme of the evening.
Within an hour most of the guests had arrived, and the ballroom floor was pleasantly crowded. Christy watched the dancers from the sidelines, trying not to notice how well Dominic and Amanda danced together, and how close their bodies were.
She didn't know how much more of Dominic's contempt she could take. She had never thought him a particularly egotistical man, but she could only presume that his savagery towards her now sprang from the fact that in his eyes she had turned him down as her lover in favour of David.
She told herself that the Dominic she had loved would never have behaved so cruelly, but it made no difference at all to the way she felt about him.
The Major asked her to dance and she got up to do so, the skirts of her dress swaying gracefully as she moved. She was aware that her dress had caused something of a stir, but she took no pleasure in the knowledge. That one contemptuous look Dominic had given her had stripped her defences from her, and the evening had become something merely to be endured.
The Major danced surprisingly well, his olde-worlde courtesy balm to her soul after Dominic's biting sarcasm, but even so, she was aware that she didn't have all the Major's attention. She had seen him glance more than once at where Lady Anthony was sitting and on some impulse she was reluctant to analyse she said quietly to him, 'Lady Anthony looks rather lonely ; why don't you go and ask her to dance ?'
'I would, but I know she'd refuse me.' He gave a rather humourless bark of laughter. 'And it wouldn't be the first time.' A shadow .crossed his face. 'There was a time when I thought… but I was foolish. Her father wanted to keep the title in the family, and she married Ronnie. We were in the same regiment, you know.'
And the Major had loved her, Christy suspected, her heart aching for him. Just for a moment she had seen behind his stern mask to the man, and as he glanced across the room to Lady Anthony, Christy realised that he still loved her.
The music stopped just as they swung level with Lady Anthony's table. 'You dance very well, my dear, and in that dress you are quite the belle of the ball…' The faded blue eyes grew lightly wistful.
Acting on impulse, Christy said softly, 'The Major was just telling me that he would love to ask you to dance, but that he was frightened that you would refuse him.' She didn't dare to look at her companion, but even without doing so she was aware of his growing anger, and prayed that she had not made a terrible mistake.
To her relief she saw that Lady Anthony was slightly flushed and rather disconcerted, but far from displeased.
'Oh well… well… I rarely dance these days. My arthritis, you know.'
'Nonsense,' Christy heard the Major saying gruffly. 'Why, I remember when you were the best dancer for fifty miles around, you were so light on your feet.'
Almost unable to believe her eyes, Christy watched the Major reach out and bring Lady Anthony gently to her feet, just as the musicians started to play a waltz. Lady Anthony was smiling at him, as shy as a young girl.
Just as Christy had mentally prophesied, there was no sign of Dominic making any attempt to join the rest of their table when it came to the time for supper. She could see him sitting half-way across the room with Amanda, and she had to fight down the hot, smouldering jealousy corroding through her body.
She didn't eat very much, and excused herself as soon as possible, going down to the ladies' cloakroom to check on her appearance. Her face looked too pale, and her hands trembled as she applied more blusher and fresh lipstick.
She didn't touch her hair, studying
herself only briefly as she slipped her mask back on. It transformed her face, giving it an odd, fey quality that was hard to define. Behind it her eyes flashed and glowed, the light playing on the rounded smoothness of her breasts. She still felt uncomfortable with the neckline of her gown, but there was nothing she could do about it, and in reality her outfit was far less revealing than the gauzy creation being worn by Amanda.
She must have stayed in the cloakroom longer than she intended because when she got back people were just beginning to drift on to the dimly lit floor, and as she stood watching them she heard the compère saying, 'Come on, ladies and gentlemen, in five minutes it will be midnight. Gentlemen, remember that if your partner refuses to unmask for you, you can demand a forfeit…'
She had to get away from here, Christy realised stubbornly, trying to control the pain savaging her. She simply didn't have the strength to stand and watch Dominic dance past her, holding Amanda in his arms.
