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Their mother agreed with everything their father said and barely noticed the most important things about her daughters, like the fact that Elizabeth had been carrying a very small golden helmet with red plumes on her head since they left their house. Her mother’s favorite phrase was, “Listen to your father.”
Another thing that Elizabeth found odd was her mother’s sudden interest in her. The woman had rarely paid her any mind when she was a child, and upon her debut, her mother had made no effort to encourage Elizabeth to make a match. Now that Irene was out in Society, Clarice was suddenly interested in Elizabeth’s affairs.
“Well—” Clarice sighed and pulled Elizabeth with her. “Why you chose to be the Goddess of Wisdom tonight is beyond me, but I hope that our promenade will have heads turn in our direction.” She raised her hand to wave at a lady who sought her attention a few feet from them. They stopped, and the lady began to approach them with a tall gentleman.
“Lady Winston?” the lady asked when she joined them. When Clarice nodded, she laughed and said, “I knew I would recognize you at a masque. It’s Lady Ashbourne.”
“Yes, of course,” Clarice replied with a smile.
“This is my son, the Earl of Ashbourne,” Lady Ashbourne introduced, and Clarice gently pushed Elizabeth forward.
“Lord Ashbourne, this is my daughter Lady Elizabeth,” Clarice said, beaming.
Lord Ashbourne bowed over Elizabeth’s hand. “Lovely to make your acquaintance, My Lady.”
“And you, My Lord.” Elizabeth felt her mother’s arm slip from hers as she answered, and she immediately knew that she was being left with him.
“You look lovely this evening. Might I inquire who you are dressed as?” he asked.
“Athena,” she replied with a forced smile, not surprised that he asked. She did not expect him to know. After all, her mother did not.
“The Goddess of Wisdom?” His brows rose.
“Yes. You seem surprised.”
“I am,” he chuckled, and it sounded as though he was ridiculing her. “No lady in this ballroom is dressed as the Goddess of Wisdom. Many are dressed as Aphrodite and Hera.”
Elizabeth’s smile did not falter as she asked, “You believe a woman should only dress like the Goddess of Beauty or the Goddess of Marriage and Childbirth?”
“Those are the most desirable goddesses,” Ashbourne returned, raising his chin so he regarded her down his nose. “Athena represents aggression.” He shook his head. “Not a flattering appearance for a lady.” Elizabeth could not believe him. He had called her lovely only a moment ago when he had no inkling of who she was dressed as.
“Athena also represents reason and wisdom which Society is in dire want of. I suppose I should not keep your company, My Lord.” She curtsied, and added as politely as she could, “Please excuse me.”
She had encountered many gentlemen with such views of a lady’s worth and endeavored to avoid them. Tonight, when Ashbourne had been introduced to her, she had hoped that he would be different. Her goal might have shifted from finding a husband for herself, but there was still a longing within her for a man who could understand the sort of woman she was and accept her.
Elizabeth breathed deeply and pushed those thoughts from her mind. She saw her mother several feet away conversing with two ladies, and, seeing an opportunity to escape, she moved toward the edge of the ballroom where she watched Irene dance with another gentleman.
The Marquess had yet to arrive, it would seem, for Elizabeth had not seen him. But then it would be difficult for her to recognize him because she had only seen him once when they were introduced at the start of the season, and he had quickly turned away from her to give Irene his attention. She knew about his reputation, however, and he did not keep a mistress for more than a month. No good man was that debauched in her opinion.
Feeling uneasy in the ballroom, she decided to leave. There was nothing for her to do there, and she would much rather seek a library in which to find some occupation. No one would notice her absence…not even her mother, who was now among her friends.
Elizabeth left the ballroom and walked down the hall then took a turn at the end into another, larger, hallway. A door opened, and a woman in a bright blue dress walked out. Her eyes met Elizabeth’s, and the woman looked startled for a moment before she hurried past Elizabeth.
Elizabeth stood in the hallway for a moment after the woman had left, wondering where the library could be. The likelihood of opening a door and walking into a tryst at a masquerade was high, and, not wanting that to happen, she decided to find a servant to ask them where the library was. A footman obliged her, and she found herself back in the hallway she had left and in front of the door from which the woman in the blue dress had come out.
There was no one inside when she entered, but an empty glass of liquor sat on a table between the chairs in front of the fireplace. Elizabeth guessed the woman had been here alone, and that made her comfortable enough to begin exploring the shelves. She started with the one on her right.
“Now, Liza,” she said to herself as she read the spines of the books in front of her, “what shall we read while we are here?”
“Will you accept a stranger’s suggestion?” asked a voice behind her. She immediately turned around to see a tall, dark-haired man standing a few feet from her.
He was dressed completely in black, but the blue eyes that regarded her from behind his mask were transfixing, and when they moved down her body, she felt as if they were disrobing her. Elizabeth’s breath hitched, and she took a step back, her entire body warming. Since her arrival, she did not feel the mystery of the masquerade until now, when she met this handsome stranger.
“Athena,” he murmured, drawing her gaze to his mouth as it curved. She had never seen a mouth and thought it beautiful until now, and something that had lain dormant her entire life was awakened. She wanted those lips to kiss her.
Smiling, she said, “Yes to both your question and observation.”
“Impressive.” His eyes moved down her body again, lingering on her breasts and causing her breathing to quicken. “Very impressive.” He took a step toward her. This man was a rake, and even though she disliked rakes, she was unable to deny the part of her that yearned for a man’s attention, and she had never received attention like this.
