“Oh, I did. Lord Ashfield was very energetic and complimented me mightily after the dance. I do believe he may call on me.”
Since Georgie always thought men who danced with her would call on her, Sophie didn’t wish to dampen her enthusiasm. Her friend was desperate for attention, having the unhappy place as the forgotten child of eight. “Of course. You are lovely and such an enthusiastic dancer. If he kept up with you, I’m sure he’s happy he met such a wonderful person. Did you tell him your name?”
“I didn’t need to. My parents introduced us earlier. I do believe he was impressed with my knowledge of ornithology. Have you danced yet?”
“Not yet.”
Georgie cocked her head, causing the feathers on her costume to wiggle, which made her appear even more birdlike. “I know you do not care for attention, but in this new costume, no one would know who you are. Why, you’re like the character you told me about in that story. The one you said about the lady dressed as a boy when she was shipwrecked and fell in love with a duke, but he didn’t know she was a woman?”
“I hadn’t thought of that.” Sophie did like the idea of no one knowing who she was, but unlike Viola in Shakespeare’s playTwelfth Night, she didn’t intend to be so adventurous—even if it was the same night.
“Have you seen Rose?”
At Georgie’s question, Sophie shook her head. “She should be with Dory and Lord Harewood. They are her chaperones this weekend.” She scanned the room, but kept coming back to the Roman soldier who’d kissed her. It wasn’t that the kiss had been unpleasant. She’d been so shocked, she hadn’t even moved when his tongue stroked her own. It was an odd sensation that she needed to think upon more. What concerned her was that she didn’t even know his name, never mind know him well enough to allow such liberties. What truly surprised her was that he hadwantedto kiss her.
She shook her head. How silly. He didn’t know who she was. He’d thought her someone else, his Lydia. Perhaps such a lady was his mistress or wife. But then, why had he mistaken Sophie for someone he knew so well?
“She’s over there, near the punch table. Don’t you see her?”
At Georgina’s direction, Sophie quickly moved her gaze to find Rose in her monk costume along with Lord Harewood in his Musketeer costume and Dory, who looked absolutely lovely dressed as aGrecian goddess, all standing close together. Sophie observed Dory, beyond pleased that her former classmate had found a man who understood her so well. Lord Harewood, Dory’s husband, was talking to Rose, and based on his stance, he was not happy. Rose didn’t appear very happy with her brother either.
Sophie was about to comment on that fact when the dinner bell was rung. Immediately, she tensed. As much as she disliked being seated next to men she didn’t know at a dinner party, she truly dreaded the casual seating Ellie had planned for the midnight repast. Having the hostess as her chaperone made her more nervous, since everyone would be talking to Ellie.
People began to move toward the ballroom’s open doors, except Ellie, who was nodding and chatting to people as they exited.
Sophie searched out the Roman soldier and found him coming closer, the plume atop his helmet easy to spot. As he moved toward the doors, he seemed to angle more toward her, or rather toward Ellie, who stood between her and the throng of guests. When he approached, she turned to the side so he wouldn’t see her face and looked down at the floor to watch his sandaled feet.
He walked past Ellie, then hesitated.
Sophie held her breath until the white dress of a shepherdess stepped into view. She’d just inhaled again when her arm was caught in another’s.
“You two must sit with me and protect me from my well-meaning brother. It seems his sense of humor disappeared after the new year turned.”
As Rose propelled her and Georgie into the crowd, Sophie frantically looked about for the helmet.
“What is it, Sophie? You’ll be fine at our table. I promise.”
Rose’s soft-spoken words helped her relax. At least none of them would be a Roman soldier who wore no mask.
After much ado, they were all seated in the dining room. Sophietook a bite of roasted hare and chewed, thankful to Rose for maneuvering them to a table of only ten chairs. She was perfectly happy sitting between Georgie, whose parents sat on her other side, and Rose, whose brother and Dory sat next to her.
Two of the remaining three seats were filled by Lord and Lady Sommerset, good friends of Lord Harewood and two people whom Sophie was very familiar, since they often visited the school when Lady Sommerset gave lectures on art history, appreciation, and themes. The lady was becoming quite a popular artist, and Rose had confided that Lady Sommerset had painted her husband in the nude! Though how she’d discovered that, Sophie didn’t want to know.
From Sophie’s vantage point at the table, she could view the whole room, and she found it quite interesting. People chatted gaily in their costumes, and those with full masks set them aside in order to eat. Obviously, they did not mind being recognized. Lord Ashfield, who had danced with Georgina, appeared to be dancing attendance upon a young woman dressed as Artemis, the goddess of the hunt in Greek mythology. Fortunately, Georgie was too busy chatting with her mother to notice.
There were a few other people Sophie recognized, despite their masks. The owners of the Belinda School of Curious Ladies, the Duke and Duchess of Northwick, were dressed as Athena and Plato. Then there was Lissa, another former classmate, and Lord Bellamore. Lissa was scandalously dressed in a toga with her husband dressed as Caesar. Sophie could always count on Lissa or Rose to keep the evening interesting.
What she loved about her schoolmates, and past schoolmates, was that they never pressured her to do what she didn’t wish to. Even Ellie, who had perhaps pushed a bit more, would eventually concede. Not like her mother.
Despite being quiet herself, Lady Dowling was anxious for Sophie to marry. It was her mother who’d insisted she attend the BelindaSchool for Curious Ladies. Though Sophie had asked fervently not to attend, she’d had no choice, and it had resulted in a whole new world. Now she had friends, could read all that she wished, and was allowed to have opinions, as long as they were supported. At home she’d always felt nervous, though her mother seemed pleased with her. She truly dreaded having to go back to London, where she’d have to stay in her family’s townhome for her third Season.
Loud laughter to her right had her turning. Her contented feeling of but a moment ago vanished like the murdered ghost of Banquo inMacbeth, leaving her with an equal chill. Two tables away sat the Roman soldier. With him were two men she knew, also maskless. Lord Durham and Lord Manning—the first was dressed as a jester and the other as a Persian. There were additional men at the table, all seemingly focused on the Roman.
Rose elbowed her, causing her to turn. “That one is far too popular. Lord Sommerset says he won’t marry until he reaches thirty. More’s the pity. He’s one of the few lords who wouldn’t be boring.”
Sophie’s heart skipped a beat. “You know the man dressed as a Roman soldier?”
“Of course. He’s Lord Sommerset’s younger brother, Christopher Crauford, Viscount of Tamworth. My brother has been a mediator many times between him and his older brother.”
