er and then lifted her mask to her face.
She was still playing the game, but Charles had been acting strangely all night, pressing her to accept his generous offer to take her into keeping. He’d only tried to kiss her once in the past few weeks, but tonight she was finding him more difficult to handle. Three times he’d managed to get her in a corner alone, and while she’d previously been curious about what it would be like to kiss him, she was less interested with each passing hour. Logic told Sapphire that Charles truly was an appropriate suitor, but there was something about him that bothered her, something in him she hadn’t seen before.
“I’ll only be a moment, my beautiful swan,” he told her, bringing her hand to his lips to kiss it before releasing her.
She offered a quick smile. He’d been attentive all evening, obviously pleased that she had accepted his invitation over the others’ to escort her to the ball. Obviously he thought the acceptance of his invitation meant she was seriously considering his offer of financial support. “I’ll wait right here and then perhaps we could go for a stroll in the garden,” she said. “I understand it’s spectacularly lit with thousands of candles.”
“A fine idea. I’ll be right back. You’ll be all right here alone?”
Sapphire nodded and let out a sigh as she watched him weave his way through crowds dressed in exquisite gowns and black frock coats and elaborate masks on sticks raised to conceal their faces. Sapphire had chosen the white and black mask of a swan and her gown was a delicious white silk that felt sinfully smooth against her body. Charles, in honor of her costume, had also chosen an avian persona, but was a peacock, of all things, his mask made of bright green and blue feathers.
“Sapphire!”
Sapphire looked up at the sound of Angelique’s voice, attempting to spot her in the crowd.
“Sapphire, we’ve been looking all over for you!” Angelique called from a short distance down the hall. She stood on her tiptoes amid bears, jesters, Egyptian princes and princesses, and waved her green mask, ignoring their stares and whispers of impropriety. Tonight she was a mermaid dressed in an emerald-green gown with a green silk mask. “There she is, Henry. I knew she hadn’t left without saying good-night.”
Angelique made her way to Sapphire with Henry on her arm.
Sapphire lowered her mask and leaned forward to greet Angelique and was disturbed to find that she smelled of whiskey, as did Henry. Henry, in fact, was bleary-eyed, red-faced and appeared to be quite inebriated.
“I’m so glad you didn’t leave,” Angelique continued at the same unladylike volume. “This is a wonderful party. Isn’t it a wonderful party, Sapphire?”
“It is,” she murmured.
“Where’s Charles?” She looked around. “Surely he hasn’t abandoned you.”
“I should speak to him about his manners,” Henry piped in quite sternly, despite the slur of his words. Then he broke into laughter.
Angelique laughed with him, running her hand up and down his arm. He had discarded his black frock coat somewhere and was no longer carrying the mask Sapphire had seen earlier, that of a lion. He held up a pink lady’s mask that sported genuine pearls hanging down one side so that it appeared he was wearing an earring. “Isn’t this a divine mask?” he asked Sapphire, leaning forward to peer through it at her.
She put her hand on his chest, gently pushing him upright. “Divine,” she said. Then she looked to Angelique. “Perhaps you should go,” she said softly. “Henry’s parents are here. I was introduced to them only a short time ago. They shouldn’t see him like this.”
“See me like this?” he demanded jovially. “Like what, Sapphire, dear? Happy? In love? I’ve asked my Angel to marry me, you know, at least a hundred times.”
Sapphire looked to Angelique in surprise—she hadn’t said a word!
“And I’ve refused him a hundred times,” Angelique explained. “Why on earth would I want to marry him? I like him too much.”
“Oh, you’ll come around.” Henry grabbed her roughly by the waist and pulled her against him, lifting her feet off the ground. Both of them burst into laughter again.
“Henry,” Sapphire chastised quietly. She looked to Angelique again.
“What can I say?” She raised her hands. “He can’t be controlled. See you later, darling.”
Sapphire watched them sail off as Angelique fluttered her ivory fan, a recent gift from Charles, in front of her face. She was hot and suddenly felt as if she couldn’t breathe. There were too many people in the alcove, all jostling her as they went by. Now all she wanted to do was find Charles and have him take her home. She was turning to look for him, rising on her toes to try to see over the crowd, when she felt someone approach from behind her.
“Charles?”
She knew at once that the man wearing the plain black silk mask and standing so near to her was not Charles; he was too tall, his shoulders too broad.
“Not Charles,” said the man as he leaned over her.
She recognized the voice and scowled. “Mr. Thixton, what kind of costume is that?” she asked.
“The kind a man wears who does not like masquerade balls.”
She fluttered her fan, the heat now seeming to come in waves over her. “And who are you supposed to be?”