Page 4 of His Scarred Duchess
Beside her, Adeline felt almost plain in her midnight blue and silver ensemble. But as she caught her reflection in a nearby window, she was struck by the transformation. The gown hugged her figure in a way her usual dresses never did, the low neckline hinting at hidden charms. With her scars concealed behind the mask and the flattering cut of the dress, she looked alluring.
For a moment, panic seized her. What had she been thinking, agreeing to this foolish plan? She didn’t belong here, amongthese carefree revelers. She was damaged goods, a social pariah. Surely someone would see through her disguise, would point and laugh at her audacity for daring to show her face among polite society.
Isabella’s hand on her arm jolted her from her spiraling thoughts. “Adeline? Are you all right?”
Adeline forced a smile, grateful for the mask that hid her expression. “Yes, of course. Just… taking it all in.”
Isabella squeezed her arm reassuringly, the feathers of her costume brushing against Adeline’s skin. “Remember, no one knows who we are. Tonight, we can be whoever we want to be. Now, come on! Let’s join the party before we miss all the fun.”
With a deep breath, Adeline allowed Isabella to lead her towards the entrance. Each step felt like a small act of rebellion against the society that had cast her aside.
I have as much right to be here as anyone,she told herself, trying to summon the confidence she’d lost years ago.
The silver stars on her gown caught the light as she moved, creating the illusion of a night sky in motion. Tonight, she wasn’t Adeline Follett, the scarred spinster. She was mystery, she was allure, she was possibility.
And for one night, that was enough.
As they entered the grand foyer, Adeline’s senses were overwhelmed. The air was thick with the scent of perfume and wine, the sound of a hundred conversations mingling with the strains of a lively waltz. Couples twirled across the dance floor, their elaborate costumes creating a kaleidoscope of color and movement.
For a moment, Adeline forgot to breathe. It was all so beautiful, so vibrant. When was the last time she’d been part of such a gathering? The realization sent a pang through her heart. This was the world she’d lost, the life that had been snatched away from her in a single, terrible moment.
“Isn’t it wonderful?” Isabella sighed, her eyes wide with wonder.
Adeline nodded, not trusting her voice. It was wonderful, yes, but it was also a stark reminder of everything she’d been denied. The carefree laughter, the flirtations, the sense of belonging—these were things she could only experience from behind a mask.
As they made their way deeper into the crowd, Adeline felt her anxiety begin to ebb. No one was staring at her. No one was whispering behind their hands or casting pitying glances her way. For the first time in years, she was just another face in the crowd—or rather, just another mask.
“Oh, look!” Isabella exclaimed, pointing towards a group of masked gentlemen near the refreshments table. “Isn’t that Lord Hadley? I’d recognize that laugh anywhere.”
Adeline’s smile faltered. Lord Hadley was known for his sharp wit and sharper tongue. She’d been on the receiving end of his thinly veiled barbs more than once since her childhood accident.
“Perhaps we should find somewhere else to?—”
But Isabella was already moving towards the group, her natural vivacity drawing her like a moth to a flame. Adeline hesitated, torn between the desire to blend into the background and the need to keep an eye on her impulsive sister.
With a resigned sigh, she followed, her steps careful and measured. As she approached, she overheard snippets of conversation.
“Did you hear about old Brenton’s eldest?” one masked figure was saying. “I hear they’re shipping her off to the country. About time, if you ask me. Bad enough to look at her across a ballroom, let alone?—”
Adeline froze, her breath catching in her throat. Even here, even now, she couldn’t escape the cruel whispers. The fragile confidence she’d been building crumbled, leaving her feeling exposed and vulnerable despite her mask.
Just as she was about to turn and flee, a matronly figure in a striking owl mask stepped forward.
“Gentlemen,” the woman said, her voice carrying a note of authority that silenced the group, “I find such gossip distasteful.Surely, at an event where we’re all meant to be equals, we can find more worthy topics of conversation?”
Lord Hadley—for Adeline was now certain it was him behind the elaborate bird mask—had the grace to look abashed.
“My apologies, Madam. You’re quite right, of course. No harm meant—it was merely idle chatter.”
The owl-masked lady nodded regally, then turned to Adeline. “My dear,” she said softly, “I believe I saw some particularly delightful refreshments being served near the terrace. Perhaps you’d care to investigate?”
Grateful for the escape, Adeline nodded. “Thank you,” she whispered, hoping her voice conveyed the depth of her gratitude.
As she hurried away, she couldn’t help but wonder about the identity of her defender. There had been something familiar in the woman’s bearing, in the gentle authority in her voice. But in this sea of masks and secrets, she knew she’d likely never find out.
Reaching the refreshments table, Adeline took a moment to compose herself. She filled two glasses with punch, one for herself and one for Isabella. The cool liquid soothed her parched throat, helping to calm her frayed nerves. However, as she scanned the crowded room, a knot of anxiety formed in her stomach.
Where was Isabella?
