To Deceive A Duke

Chapter 22

The journey to Stirwell Manor takes the two sisters away from the centre of town and towards the suburban outskirts. As the carriage pulls them past Kensington Green towards Kensal Green, the homes change from tall townhouses to giant manors with large acreages. The further they get from town, the more apprehensive Clarissa starts to feel. Luckily for her, Celeste's excitement cannot be contained and her sister's constant rambling helps to distract her from the thick feeling of foreboding in her stomach. 

The carriage slows down as it joins a queue of carriages snaking past the boundary walls and through the high iron gate that welcomes you into the grounds of Stirwell Manor. A natural turning circle has been made by a stone statue standing in the centre of the gravel drive, surrounded by small green bushes. The edge of the drive is lined with a vibrant grass verge that follows the path of the wall and twists towards the front steps. The manor is made of a light sand coloured stone with beautiful white windows on three floors. The main centre of the house is reached by a steep staircase, with large wings on either side, set a metre or so behind. 

There is barely any time for the two girls to soak in the sight of the impressive house before footmen approach and opens their door. They stick out their arms and help them out. For once Celeste is silent as they look up at the house towering over them. Clarissa gives her name to the footman ticking names off a long list when they reach the front door. He gives them a scathing look but allows them to enter. The brightly lit front hall is filled with chattering guests as the buzzing crowd filters towards the main ballroom at the back of the house. Clarissa takes Celeste's hand, unwilling to lose her, and they join the throng heading in the direction of the tinkling music. 

When they step into the ballroom and get a clear view of their surroundings Clarissa feels her throat dry up and her stomach twist. The room is enormous and intricately decorated. Extensive gold crowing is spread along the walls and ornate Grecian murals are painted on the ceiling. She turns on the spot, drinking in every golden statue and candle holder. She has only seen paintings of ballrooms like this. The room appears to shimmer in the light cast by the chandeliers and the floor-length windows, and the many shades of beautiful dresses reflect a sparkling rainbow onto the cream walls. Her hand tightens around her sister's, like her, Celeste is struck dumb by the sheer decadence of this room. They edge to the right, allowing the guests behind them to enter, sticking close to the wall. 

"Shall we take a turn about the room?" Celeste murmers. Clarissa doesn't reply, too in awe to form words, fortunately, her legs still function. Their heels click on the polished hardwood wood floor and they drift further inside. A large orchestra is seated on the left side of the room, just in front of the tall fireplace. They have been tucked onto a small platform, to raise them away from the dance floor that stretches across most of the first half of the room. The music that is playing is striking and many couples have already started to waltz around, despite the early hour of the night. The far side of the room is where most of the guests have gathered, drinking and talking as numerous waiters silently pass through them, trays of champagne and nibbles held aloft.

Halfway down on the right side of the room is an open door. The girls peek into it to see a smaller, darker room, arranged with tables set up for cards and bets. There are a few people sitting at the round tables, cards clutched to their chests but Celeste tugs her sister towards the central collection of guests. Hovering on the outer layer of the main crowd, Clarissa looks at the people around her. Wherever she turns her head she spies Lords and Viscounts, Marchionesses and Countesses. It seems that there is only a small percentage of non-titled guests. Celeste is right, this ball is as exclusive as it gets. 

Clarissa spots their hostess in the middle of the throng, talking to a beautiful dark-haired lady and her tall imposing husband. Grace Cavendish tilts her head as laughs at something the woman says and then sees Clarissa looking in her direction. She beckons her over with a delicate finger before she can turn away. Clarissa forces a smile and nods, taking her sister's arm and pulling her through the waves of people between them. Many people watch the girls as they pass but Clarissa keeps her focus on the floor until she reaches the dowager.