The company hurried to the kitchens, where the sounds of sharp cries were being heard. As we burst into the kitchen, a jumbled picture greeted me. A serving-girl was on the floor, amidst many broken plates, where the head cook- a buxon woman with grey hair- was scolding her and another serving-girl was attempting to help her.
The poor girl had a number of scratches, leaking blood from her, the plates having cut into her skin.
"Quiet!" Lord Shireley ordered firmly, but not unkindly. Instantly, the entire kitchen was cut in the chords of all the different voices. "What has occurred here?"
"Your Lordship, Layna here tripped while holding the plates for tonight," the woman related to us. "I did tell her she was carrying far too many, your Lordship, but she insisted and then she fell. As you can see, the kitchen came into uproar."
"It was not so!" the other serving girl. "Mrs Partridge-"
"Hold your tongue!" 'Mrs Partridge' ordered her, turning a slight shade of red.
"What is your name?" Lord Shireley asked the serving-girl.
"Agatha, if it pleases your lordship," she uttered, seeming extremely frightened. "Please pardon my speaking out of turn, your lordship."
"I pardon you," he said lightly. "Now, if you could help Layna here up the stairs and to the Blue Room, we shall clean up here. Mrs Partridge, please inform one of the servants to fetch the physician for Layna."
"Yes, your lordship," she immediately replied, waddling away to call one of the man-servants in her harsh tongue.
"I am sorry that this happened," he apologised to the rest of the company. "It is not often that we have such an event in the kitchens."
"It is of no apology that you should be making," Mother said kindly towards him. "It is often a mistake that servants will make and sometimes they may have repercussions."
"Yes," Lady Shireley said, smiling upon us. "Now, let us retire to the drawing room. It would not do to linger here."
We filed back to our preceding room, talking of what had just happened. My mind was running along a different track than the tongues were wagging- a very different way.
Somehow, the serving-girl, Layna, had attracted a memory within me. I tried to remember when I had last seen the jet-black haired servant; perhaps aiding Victoria? No, it was not that....
Making tea with Lord Darrens! I recalled with satisfaction. The strange incident where I had found the two ruffled and strange- a curious event to my mind. A pang of curiosity rang through me and I had the urge to go up quietly to her.
"Can you excuse me?" I said to the group. "I just have to attend to a matter."
The group nodded and I slipped away, not intent in the bathroom, as what they had assumed, but on visiting the serving-girl. It was easy to flit upstairs without a soul noticing me, and so I did, flying up the stairs as quickly as a mouse scurries through open spaces.
The Blue Room was one of the guest bedrooms, so it was simple to find my way through the hallways to there. A muttering was heard through the walls, as I neared the room. Knocking at the door, not wanting to surprise anyone, a pattering of feet sounded towards me, then the door was swiftly opened.
"Milady," Agatha greeted me. "What service should you have of me?"
"Only that I require speech with the serving-girl, Layna," I said levelly. Agatha nodded and opened the door wider. As I entered, I looked back towards her.
"Alone, thank you." The girl went to close the door behind her but I stopped her.
"Wait! If you could speak of this to no one?"
"Yes, milady," she obeyed, closing the door.
Turning my attention towards Layna, I felt pity for the poor girl. She was propped by cushions and the bed-spread, appearing tired. Her cuts were still oozing a little blood, though it was not a grand hurt, otherwise I would not have dared visit.
"How are you feeling?" I asked her kindly, hoping my visit would not strain her. "Well enough for conversation?"
"Yes, milady," she answered, her eyes a little wide at the prospect of talking with me. "What would you talk with me of?"
"I would like to know.." My voice trailed off, as I thought on how to phrase it. As I thought, my fingers trailed the ornate wood of the bed-stead, my fingers dipping into the patterns carved into it. "What went on between Lord Hugo Darrens and yourself in the kitchen, that day I disturbed you."
"Nothing, milady." The answer was too swift. A quavering reply and an answer that only hid a deeper truth. "He was teaching me on how to make tea, from another culture, that is all."
"Is that so?" I asked her, determined to catch her out. "Pray, what culture did your tea-making have its inspiration?"
"Uh... it- it was from India, milady," she answered haltingly. "An Indian tea."
"Truly?" I replied. "That is strange. My friend, engaged to Lord Darrens, has told me every single place under the sun that her fiancee has traveled to. It is most peculiar how India was not included. Quite accomplished to engage in the art of Indian tea-making, when you have not imbibed any of the culture, is it not?"
"Accomplished, indeed," the poor girl gulped, knowing I had caught onto the tail of her lie. Somehow, despite my status that demanded truth, she had been silenced from another party.
"If it is retaliation, you fear," I said casually, making my words plain. "From any.... others, I would have you know that I would not speak of any indiscretions that you did to your master or to others' ears."
"I-I-," she seemed to not know how to present the truth to me, beads of sweat lining the top of my forehead, just against her hairline. "I only obeyed what I was told, milady."
"I am sure, you did," I reassured her. "I will not punish you, Layna."
"He asked me to," Layna told me desperately, the words tumbling out. "He told me that it was my duty to oblige him as he was to marry into the family. I only did as I was told!"
"What did he make you do?" I inquired, hopelessly wading through her words which were just beginning to form together in my mind.
"At first it was just a kiss," she confessed. "But then he told me that I must visit him at the nights, that I would pleasure him. I had to do what I was told, milady, only what I was told. When you saw us, you caught it then. He was bolder, constantly showing that he could do whatever he wished and whenever. I had to oblige, you see."
The poor girl, I pitied her, thinking that Layna had gone through too much.
"Did he give you a choice?" I asked her gently. "Did he say that you might or might not do this duty for him?"
"Why... I am a servant," she said. "He commanded and I had to obey, milady. It was what I had to do."
I took that as that he took her choice and bent it and broke it.
"Tell me the name of the gentleman," I ordered her, determined to make sure that I did not have any such mistakes where this was concerned. "Tell me his name."
"He- he was-" the girl lowered her voice, thinking that voices travel. She was terrified. "Lord Hugo Darrens."
"Thank you," I said softly, leaning from the bedstead and straightening. "I understand how difficult this was for you. Lord Darrens will not touch you again, you have my word. Later, Lord Shireley will relieve you of your service to him. When that occurs, come straight to the Taylors' house. We will give you service there."
"Thank you ever so much, milady," she thanked me wildly. "You are indeed graceful and too kind to a servant such as I."
"It is no matter," I said kindly. "Now, I must leave you. If Lord Darrens shows his face within here, you will firmly refuse him and make sure you do not tell a soul of this conversation, especially not him. Do you understand me?"
"Yes, milady," she said. "Thank you, milady."
I nodded, then departed, ripping the door open with an anger that I had not let myself feel when in the company of the poor girl. I dreaded to think of what she had suffered under the command of Lord Darrens. Layna had been forced to bequeath her secret to me, and only under the promise that I would grant her protection.
My next stop was at the kitchens with Mrs Partridge. The lady received my distaste, but her conniving ways I could readily use.
"Mrs Partridge," I greeted her.
"Milady," she replied in kind, subserviently. "I must apologise for the incident beforehand. I hope that you enjoy the dinner, if it pleases you, that is."
"Yes, well the accident did disturb me," I drawled, harsh and cold. "It is not often that I dine upon others and hear troubles when I should not hear anything. You would not want your position to be compromised, Mrs Partridge."
"Oh, not at all," she said. "I am most sorry, milady."
"That is all very well and good," I continued in a voice of complaints. "But I shall remind you that perhaps you should not have inept girls under your staff, where they will disturb others. Is that understood?"
"Yes, of course, milady," the woman accepted it. "I shall do my utmost to retain the integrity of the staff, if it pleases you."
"See that you do," I finished, turning to leave the kitchen back to the general company. My performance had been well, I must say. Though I would normally never commit such an impropriety as to lecture another's staff, my status still worked to exert power over the servants, and they would listen to each word I spoke as if it was glistening gold itself.
Mrs Partridge was useful indeed. Not to be shown up by Layna's accident, she would immediately slip hints towards Lord Shireley to drop the girl from service, manipulating lies and the truth together. In the end, I had not a doubt that Lord Shireley would relieve her from duty. It was important to maintain a fully functioning staff and everyone had to make sure of that, especially if advised from head servants such as Mrs Partridge.
Then, as Layna left, she would be free from Lord Hugo Darrens, as he was most certainly not being allowed near her when he dared to venture inside my house.
Slipping back to the drawing room, a different and more dangerous intent settled into my mind. I could not have my dear friend marry such a rogue as Lord Darrens, with his terrible ways. If I had a hand in it, Lord Darrens would not have her hand in marriage.
But to accomplish that, I must needs ask for the help of one other, who would be extremely eager in helping me to my ends.
This gentleman would be very angry, terrifying so, and in enlisting his help, I ran the risk of him challenging Victoria's rogue to a sword-fight, resulting in death, immediately.
But this gentleman was more like to see beyond the haze of red, see through to the reason and help me through to how I would run Lord Darrens off, without him carrying Victoria off as well.
It hadn't taken me long to think of him.
Her brother.
-------------------------
After the long and tiresome dinner party, where Victoria did flirt shamelessly with her fiancee and I was forced to watch each second, knowing that he was a rogue, a dastard and perhaps much more, I managed to secure Daniel's company in one of the rooms upstairs.
"I know it must be strange to have me bring you up here," I apologised. "The attic is not the nicest place to be, but yet it offers the privacy that I must have in order to speak with you."
"I do not mind, Rosalia," Daniel replied, waving off the apology good-naturedly. "Now, what must you communicate with me?"
"Victoria," I blurted out, unwilling to hold onto this secret any longer than I must. "It is of Victoria and her husband-to-be."
"Lord Hugo Darrens?" Daniel considered, though not suspiciously. "He seems well-mannered enough and not an unkind fellow, if that is what you are suggesting."
"But that is exactly what I'm suggesting," I told him. "I have reason to believe that.... that Lord Darrens is not what he seems. That he is a cad and dangerous, maybe, to your sister."
Daniel's eyebrows knit together, in the slow trickle of suspicion that I was wishing to pour into his mind. "In what way?"
"The serving-girl," I reasoned. "The one that fell earlier- Layna. I saw her once before, when I visited here. When I entered the kitchen, Darrens was ruffled and so was she, both completely out of states."
"Is that all?" Daniel inquired, trying to piece together evidence.
"No, not a whit," I said. "This evening, I went to see her, to ask her what had transpired. She confessed to me that he had propositioned her and she had been forced to accept, being raised to always obey. More than just mere embracing had occurred, I believe, with what I have heard."
"You think she is truthful in her telling?"
"Of course!" I replied. "The girl was utterly open with me, not a deceit upon her expression. She was frightened, even, that he would hear."
"If Lord Darrens is not what he says he is," Daniel replied, his expression a storm. "Then my sister should not marry him. But the issue remains that he is a high-born lord and this Layna is but a servant. The force would not imprison a man on the word of a servant, even if it was backed up by yourself and myself. We must wait for further truth, in which we would be able to expose him entirely."
"Oh," I uttered, crushed by defeat. "We must wait, wait until her marriage draws near, then hope that he slips up again except in full view of others?"
"It sounds unlikely, I know," he admitted. "But there is none else we can do. If we chose to expose him over this then Darrens would beat the charge away easily. He would also be more careful, or even abstain entirely, until the wedding. Once he gets that ring upon Victoria's finger, it will be extremely hard to take it off. Have you done anything about the servant?"
"She will not talk of this, I am certain," I reported. "I have also taken the liberty to have her discreetly taken from your father's service; then replaced into mine, so she will not lose work. I would not have Lord Darrens take advantage of the poor girl once again."
"That is well," Daniel agreed. "You have done extremely wisely this evening, Rosalia. But mark this, you cannot let on to Lord Darrens that you know what you do. I shall not slip up on my guard either, but we cannot have him smelling that there is a rat in the air. If he does, we lose Victoria completely."
"I understand," I said, though the idea of talking with him as I did made me sicken. "How will you bear it?"
"I will avoid him as much as I can," Daniel responded grimly. "And if I am forced into conversation with him, I will hope for the future, where perhaps I could kill the bastard."
-----------------------
A few more weeks trickled by, then here I was. Layna had arrived in the weeks, for work and I had posted her as one of the kitchen maids, as she was well-equipped for the job. Mother took my recommendation for her with a pinch of the salt, but otherwise didn't suspect the arrangement and did not recognise her from the Shireleys'. On the eve of my nineteenth birthday (one day older, Rosalia, one more year unwed!), having a chat with Mary on the arrangements. It did not scare me that I was more more unwed, as my mother liked to bemoan my situation. I would be married before the next month was out.
"You shall be pleased with the ball," Mary informed me. "Though your mother may not see eye-to-eye on many things, it will amaze you how she has outdone herself this celebration. The Duchess loves you dearly, you know."
"She does not show it much," I remarked dryly, hugging my knees in the wisps of cold night air, trickling in from a crack in the window. "With the state in which she is conducting herself, this is as much my funeral than my birthday."
"Trust me, milady, you will not see any measure of black this ball," Mary laughed. "The servants are whispering that this will be the grandest ball we have known."
"Even to rival my eighteenth birthday?" I asked her, remembering how sombre that affair had been. My mother had held a small gathering, but was not quite herself, still in paroxysms of grief over how my sister had disgraced herself and then migrated away from the family with Mr Hartley.
"Ten times what that gathering had been," my servant wryly informed me. "You shall be extremely happy. I have a very special gown for you as well, which you will look very handsomely in."
"Thank you," I said, smiling at the thought. "I will be nineteen on the morrow, just think. It seems strange that it has been near twenty years since I was born."
"Not to me milady," Mary said. "Why, I watched you grow from such a little girl to this beautiful lady you are today."
"Was I a lovely little girl?" I asked her, curiously. "Or was my heart as black as pitch?"
"Not one little girl has a heart of evil," Mary chuckled. "Yet you were a feisty one. Not bad, don't mistake me, but very definite. Knew what you wanted, even from such a little age."
"I suppose nothing has changed," I remarked, thinking of the forceful little girl. "I am glad it has not."
"Perhaps marriage might," Mary mused, throwing down my bed-covers to settle a little more straightly, while I still sat at my dressing-table. "Many a lady has been known to smooth their tongue."
"But do I want to be changed?" I asked her. "I know I have a very opinionated mind, which might be considered improper. But it is much a part of me as the hair that falls from my head. I do not think I would wish for a husband that transformed me in such a manner."
"You might want to. To please him, milady."
"If I wanted to do so, that does not seem like the right kind of man for me. With the man I wish for in marriage, I would want to stay as I am, and not change myself so that he could be better pleased with me. Marriage is about marrying the person they are, not the one they wish to change into another."
"That is true," she replied, in a level tone. "Somehow, I don't think even marriage will calm your spirits, milady, if I may be so bold."
"No, I do not think it will," I smiled at the thought. "Marriage may not be as far off as many think, however."
"Is that so?"
"Quite. Mayhap William will offer for my hand, this night."
"That would be a lovely thing indeed," Mary beamed. "Am I to assume that milady does wish to marry Sir William?"
"Your assumption is correct," I answered her, my heart thrumming a little. "I have loved William since the first time that we danced together. From when he recited Shakespeare to me and when he saved me from the ruffians, when he met me in the shadows and made me guess and when he offered to rid Zachariah Hartley for me."
"You do not name any occurrences that your William had when he was unmasked," Mary put forward.
"No," I said, suddenly realising the change. "No, I do not. I did not notice that."
"A mask makes any man bold," Mary reassured me. "I am sure that marriage will make him the same William that you know, and love. It is this courtship that makes the relationship quite stilted, I believe, milady.
"Yes," I replied, smiling a little. "Yes, you are quite right. Any man would watch his step with Mother making sure he walks the line."
"I must go to bed now," I told her. "Please leave me, Mary, blow out the candles as you go."
"Of course, milady," she assented, departing immediately, and snuffing out the flickering flames. I shivered into bed, with my thin night-gown, as the last candle was extinguished. My mind revolved around a thousand topics, preventing me from much-needed sleep.
I thought of a little girl, with brown locks and a fierce face. I thought of a masked man that I had kissed, soft lips across my own. I thought of another pair of lips, ones that should have been unwelcome... were unwelcome.
I thought of expectations and how I didn't want to change.
Will marriage change me?
Only time would tell.
But once you entered marriage, there was no returning.
---------------------
"Good wishes," another servant said to me, scurrying by on their way to another duty, another destination.
"Thank you," I called after their retreating back. I had had many alike greetings from servants this morning and this evening, taking the time to wish me a happy birthday even as they were intensely busy upon their tasks.
"Should you not be going ready, good daughter?" Father asked me, his voice coming from his study. I entered, taking in the piles of books, the crumpled paper and my father's wearied face, which Mother would despair at.
"Should I?" I replied skeptically.
"Your mother will be hounding you soon enough," he declared, with a pinch of a smile at his lips. "Perhaps you should retire for your chambers, so your maid may begin dressing."
"Perhaps you should as well," I replied, a laugh upon my lips. "I'm sure your valet will be greatly at unease with my mother barking orders left and right, and the Duke not being presentable at this late hour, the ball being nearly upon us."
"I have just been finishing up a touch of business," he explained. "It is difficult indeed with this work, be glad that you do not have the duties to take on the business afterwards. It is trying."
"I have my own duties to attend to," I remarked wryly, thinking of the woman's lot in life. "Trying for my sake as well."
"Yes, they will be," Father considered. "I must needs talk with you on one matter, Rosalia."
"What may that be?" I asked him, descending upon the seat that he gestured to. "I have not been mixed up with some trouble, have I?"
"No, though I would not be surprised," he replied lightly. "But Sir William Coulters has interest in gaining your hand."
"I suspected as much."
"Then, I assume, that you are happy with the match?" he asked, looking at me with an intense stare. "I have not given him my blessing, though your mother does tell me to do so immediately."
"She would," I grimaced. "But yes, I do have happiness in the match. If you would be good to do so, your blessing would be opportunely placed upon him."
"Then that is settled," he closed the discussion. "Your mother will be so disappointed when I send Lord Henry Chalmers away."
"I believe her favour has drifted Sir William's way," I grinned. "The one who takes the blow more seriously is the Pig."
"Oh!" I exclaimed, my hand flying to my mouth. "I did not mean-"
"You did not like the man much, did you?" Father responded sardonically.
"Well," I admitted. "Well, no, not at all."
"We only agreed to the possibility because we wished you to be safe," he reasoned, leaning back with a weary look upon him. "I do not wish to cause you unhappiness, you do know that, Rosalia?"
"Of course, Father," I acknowledged. "I understood that you wished me a secure future."
"It is difficult when you are a parent," he continued. "You have the responsibility of entrusting your daughters and sons to a marriage, which will keep them in good hands and in a situation which will benefit them in their status and their prosperity."
"Yet this can have the effect of ridding happiness for a time," I summarised.
"Yes," he admitted. "Your mother..."
"Staged a marriage with a street rat," I recalled with a wicked grin, as GrandMonster had scathingly put it.
"Was extremely like you," Father smiled. "Of the same devil-may-care attitude and liked to make friends with the local boys, though it always brought her to trouble. Her mother despaired of her, just as she does with you. When she was married to me, Lacey declared it to be the worst night of her life."
"Life went on, and she respected and began to love me as a wife," he continued with the story. "It was not the nightmarish tale that she expected, but a one that she had wished for, though not quite as romantic as young girls' imaginings."
"At least you were of good physique, well-mannered and not of ample supposed knowledge of their own self-importance," I sniffed. "Somehow I think that if I had married Lord Chalmers, I would not have a fairytale ending as you and Mother did."
"Perhaps you might not have," he agreed. "But you had to marry one day and he was the first- and we thought- only one offering. Your future was in our hands."
"I know," I said, understanding the trouble. "Though I imagine you as a leaner, kinder and less pompous personage than Pi- Lord Chalmers."
"That would not surprise me in the slightest," he sighed.
"Rosalia Taylor! Dear husband of mine!" Mother snapped, bringing our attention to her, framed by rage, and standing but in the doorway. "Why are you not both being dressed? It is nearing seven already and yet you persist in tiring me both out!"
"Of course Mother," I replied glibly, catching a sideways smile from Father. Dashing away from Mother before she could give me a proper scolding, I stopped for a moment in the hall-way.
"Rest easy, my love," Father murmured to her, as he cradled her in his arms."Everything will be well."
Yes, I smiled. Everything will be well.
"Lady Rosalia!" Mary called. "I needs dress you, milady, by the express order of the Duchess!"
"Coming Mary," I replied, snatching one last look at the happy two.
------------------------
I had been scrubbed and perfumed with rose essence, dressed in my best under-garments, though whether they were my best because of the price or how tight they forced my stomach in, I could not tell. My hair had been brushed, then combed, then placed into an impossible hairstyle, where Mary braided each and every strand of my hair then curled them upwards into a bun, threading in small white material roses in, setting off the dark of my hair nicely.
My skin had been brushed with a powder, to remove any blemishes and to maintain an English rose complexion. Then finally the dress had been shown to my attention. Purple, for the colour of power, purple to complement my hair. The dress had a unique bodice, pretty lace lining the top, then the pattern dipping and swirling around, in a line of tight, thick stitches.
The bottom half of my dress was spectacular, billowing out. In five or so lines, held what looked like hundreds of tiny dark purple gems, catching the light and making me appear truly dazzling. To finish it off, a necklace of complication but beauty lay from my neck. It was a black metal, the top as if a branches of a tree, then lessening into the larger branches, then to the trunk.
It was much thinner, of course. But the true beauty lied in the gem that sparkled just above the lace of my dress- a darker purple gem that had many facets to it.
It was all beautiful, a gift from Mother and GrandMonster for this ball. Surprisingly, the mother and daughter had compromised and went to town to buy this for me. The necklace had been chosen by GrandMonster and the dress from Mother. The shoes- soft purple and pretty decorative patterns, had been bequeathed to me from Mother, who had also had inherited it from her mother.
It was strange, and comedic, that the two women could actually agree of what I was to wear, but nice that they should have made the effort. A silly smile washed across my face, but as I saw the first guest appear, I wiped it off my face and replaced it with a more appropriate conciliatory smile, that greeted the newcomers.
"Why, Lord and Lady Faltworth....."
The greetings were many and more, it being my duty to invite each guest into the ball. As there were many, this took a great deal of time, more time than I would have wished to spend on a few 'hellos' and 'enjoy yourselves'. I received many well-wishes that were nice, and even a gift or two that I had to put aside.
As the Shireleys made their way in, Victoria sent me a teasing look as to the mind-numbing predicament that I was in. I mouthed save me to her, but she laughed it off, whispering to Daniel of how comedic the light of my situation was.
Laugh away, I grumbled. I shall stay out here in the cold and greet a few more hundred people then. Good friend you are.
Victoria turned out to be a great friend of mine, as Father came out to relieve me, telling of how she had begged him to do so.
"Thank you Father," I said happily, before rushing off into the crowds. As soon as I saw Mother looking at me with despairing eyes, I walked sedately, perhaps feeling that I should consider her feelings, at least for this night.
"Rosalia...." My voice drifted along the air to my eyes, coming from patchy darkness, in one of the smaller rooms. Curious, but slight nervous, I walked into the room, switching on the light as I did so. I was not one to stand in dark rooms, while strangers called my name.
"Rosalia...."
"Hello- aahh!" I screamed as a figure jumped at me. Though it was attack, I feared, the person soon doubled over in laughter.
"William!" I hissed, recognising the mask. "You had me scared for a moment."
"Just for a moment?" he stood up, revealing the handsome mask that he wore, the first time that we had met. Taking a slow languid step towards me, his face pressed closer to mine. "Are you sure it was only for then?"
"Of course," I lied, though my heart was beating many times. "You are not as a mighty a lion as you roar."
"Is that so?" William asked me, those lips curving into a smile. Something about him felt strange, different, but I could not put my finger upon it.
"Yes," I uttered, my breathing growing slower with the space that was crossed each second between William's face and mine.
"Did you miss me, Rosalia?" he asked me. I could not even answer before he kissed me. The taste of him was sweet as honey and as welcome as rose petals falling down upon me. My hands rested on his face, his cheeks soft. His gripped my shoulders with an intensity, which might have scared me if it had been a different person, yet with him, I only felt safe.
As we broke apart, a smile gracing my lips, his pulled back in the same expression as well, a gentle breath was exchanged between us.
"Oh, how I have missed you," he declared huskily.
"It has only been a day or so," I reminded him delicately, laughing in his enthusiasm, my hands dropping to my own sides and stepping back lightly.
"Yes, only a day," William admitted. "It is a pity that you must host this ball of yours. Happy birthday, my fair creature. I would steal you here and keep you busy..."
"Thank you," I accepted his wishes. "Yet an unwed girl such as me could not entertain the likes of you." I hinted subtly and laughed.
"All in due time," he replied. "Soon, you will be mine, sweet Rosalia."
"Soon," I agreed eagerly.
William's head snapped upwards, his eyes trained upon the door.
"I must leave you fair one," he said suddenly. "I will leave you with this." He gave me a quick kiss upon the lips then went to leave.
"And one other thing," William said, his hand on the doorknob. "Remember that I will claim you as my wife. Wait for me."
"Always," I answered, though I yearned for him to propose for me now. It surprised me that he would not take his opportunity with Father blessing the match.
He left, a handsome grin upon his lips. I had missed this side of him, the fresh and daring and loving side of him that had faded when the masks had been unveiled.
"Rosalia, are you in here?"
A man came through the door, his eyes lighting up as he beheld me. "Oh, Rosalia, I have been searching high and low for you my dear."
It was Sir William, unmasked and clothed in different clothes than I had seen him wearing before. I stared at him in shock.
It could not have been the same man.
Then, who, had I just been talking to?
And, who, had I just been kissing?
Finally, who, had just promised to marry me?