Julia London - The Princess Plan

“We are more than acquainted, really, given our conversation in Chichester. Well, you’ll not believe it—he pretended not to know me at all.”

“Pardon?”

“As if we’d never met!” She reached for another piece of cheese. “I was given the cut direct, Eliza, and for no reason whatsoever.”

“But...did he not write his name on your card?”

“Oh, that,” Caroline said, and had a third piece of cheese. “Miss Williams wrote his name there because I had said, with certainty I believe I am due, that once I greeted him, he would naturally extend the invitation. Any gentleman would have done so. But he has cut me to the bone.”

“The bastard ,” Eliza said in full solidarity with her friend.

“He will regret it, you may trust me,” Caroline said confidently. “All right then, come along, and stop eating! Let’s go and fill the rest of your dance card. There are only three sets left, and one of them is an Alucian dance.”

“But I want the tipsy cake!” Eliza complained. “I don’t want to dance the Alucian set. I’ll make a fool of myself.”

“Come,” Caroline commanded.

Eliza stifled a belch and allowed Caroline to remove the tipsy cake from her reach.

They walked arm in arm to the ballroom, but the hall was very crowded and their progress slow. As they made their way, the peacock, all smiles now, passed on the arm of an Alucian gentleman. “That’s her,” Eliza said, indicating the woman with a tip of her chin. “She’s the one who informed me I had to be invited to meet the prince.”

Caroline blinked. “Do you know her?”

“No. Should I?”

Caroline squeezed Eliza’s arm. “That is Katherine Maugham .”

Eliza glanced over her shoulder as the peacock was swallowed into the crowd. “Who is Katherine Maugham ?” she asked, mimicking Caroline’s dramatic intonation.

“Eliza!”

“What?”

“Do you speak to no one but the judge? Haven’t you heard of Lady Katherine Maugham? Surely Hollis has mentioned her.”

Eliza shook her head. “If she did, I wasn’t listening.” At Caroline’s withering look, she said, “I have quite a lot to do every day and I can’t listen to every word my sister utters, for you may trust there are loads of words. Where is Hollis, by the bye? And are you going to tell me who Lady Katherine Maugham is?”

“ She is the one everyone believed would catch the eye of the crown prince. Her father is particularly well positioned in the Lords and heir to a vast fortune. His ironworks company is one of the largest in all of England and this trade agreement would be a boon for him. I’m truly surprised Lady Katherine didn’t tell you herself, for everyone knows she is certain to whisper it to whomever is nearby at the first available opportunity.”

“Well, she didn’t catch his eye in the introduction line. He walked on before she ever opened her mouth.”

Caroline gasped. And then grinned. “ Really. Tell me everything , especially how offended she was.”

Eliza giggled. When they reached the ballroom, Caroline made Eliza stand to one side. “Don’t move as much as an inch, will you promise?”

“I promise,” Eliza said, and saluted her friend.

Caroline hurried off. As Eliza waited patiently—she was too full to do more than that—she became aware of a group of gentlemen very nearby. Alucians and Englishmen, she confirmed with a quick peek, and once again, she noticed the thin, wiry companion of the prince. He seemed particularly agitated now. Eliza sidled closer under the pretense of stepping out of the way of foot traffic as a dancing set came to a close.

“How dare they utter the word rebellion,” one of the Alucians muttered, his words heavily accented. “Do they not understand that every whisper feeds the potential?”

“I think they do not understand your country,” said one of the Englishmen. “They believe what they’ve been told by those who would do you harm.”

That voice sounded familiar. Or did they all sound familiar to her?

“Then perhaps they should not have been invited,” the Alucian snapped. “Surely you must know that he is—” He very abruptly stopped talking and turned around.

Eliza blinked with surprise. She hadn’t realized she’d gotten so close. “I beg your pardon,” she said, and turned away, hurrying toward the ballroom door before any of them could speak.

“Eliza!”

In her horror at having been caught eavesdropping, she’d forgotten Caroline’s instruction. She whipped about to see Caroline walking toward her on the arm of a gentleman.

“Where are you off to?” Caroline said, and through her mask, Eliza could see her glare.

“Um...” She looked toward the door.

“I should like to introduce you to my friend, if I may?” Caroline was staring daggers, so Eliza straightened, smiled and curtsied to the gentleman. Should she have curtsied? Oh well. Caroline would be sure and critique her performance later.

Caroline’s friend was no taller than Eliza. His mask rode up his nose, but he had a pleasant smile and he bowed.

“May I introduce Mr. Howard of Brighton?” Caroline said with proper aplomb. “Mr. Howard, please meet my dear friend, Miss Eliza Tricklebank.”

“How do you do, Miss Tricklebank.” He bowed. “May I be so bold as to request the pleasure of this dance? Lady Caroline informs me that your dance card is not yet full.”

Eliza shot a look at Caroline, whose countenance had gone from impatience to smiles. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you, Eliza?”

“They will be starting a quadrille,” Mr. Howard said, glancing toward the dance floor.

“Thank you, Mr. Howard. I would like that very much,” Eliza said, offering her hand to be placed on his arm. Which might have been poorly done. She couldn’t keep all the rules in her head.

“You must enter his name,” Caroline said, pointing at her dance card.

Eliza thrust her arm forward. “Perhaps you might do the honor for me, Caroline. I would so very much hate to make a mistake.” If Caroline noticed her sarcasm, she gave no hint of it. She quickly wrote Mr. Howard’s name. “There you are, off you go!” She smiled brightly, as if sending a child off to the schoolroom.

So Eliza trotted off to dance with Mr. Howard. After him, she danced with another gentleman, a friend of Mr. Howard’s. And then, the dreaded Alucian set with an Alucian whose English was so heavily accented that she could hardly understand him as she concentrated on the intricate steps. She danced a quadrille—Caroline was right, she performed passably at the quadrille. And finally, a waltz with a gentleman who reeked of tobacco and liquor.

At this point in the evening, the masks had begun to come off, as people were perspiring behind them. The cacophony of voices grew louder and the punch ran low. Eliza doffed her mask, too, tying the ribbons together and looping it over her arm while she danced. Once or twice, she had to remind herself that she was in Kensington Palace at a royal masquerade ball. That the gentlemen with whom she danced were important and wealthy men. And the women around her who weren’t already in desirable marriages were bound for them.

She might have smiled and flirted, might have pretended for the evening that she was not a spinster who looked after her father. But strangely, she had no desire to pretend. She was quite at ease as a dancing spinster fallen gaily into her cups.

And really, the only eyes she could recall at all in that vast sea of masks were a pair of autumn green eyes.

At half past two in the morning, the buffet in the banquet room was replenished to the great appreciation of many after the rigor of the Alucian sets. Masks began to come off and revealed several surprises, including how the curious tastes of a northern lord extends to his costumes. There was not a single sighting of a particular royal visitor after one o’clock. Nor was there any hint of the whereabouts of a lady whose hair marked her identity where her mask attempted to hide it. There was no witching hour for revellers, as many of them were heard in the streets as they departed Kensington well past four o’clock.