Page 36 of A Secret Infatuation
Felix had not counted masquerade balls as one of his objectives for London Society, but he was not going to ignore his patron’s expectations. His only preoccupation was how to find a more elaborate costume than a simple colored hood and mask. “You may count on me. I will see what I can find. When is it?”
“It is on Friday, the twenty-fifth of April.” The admiral stood, went around the sofa, and dragged a trunk into view. He looked at them with a sheepish air. “I, myself, enjoy a good masquerade, and I have taken the liberty of asking my servant to bring the characters from past balls.”
He opened the trunk and pulled out a crimson mantle and plumed helmet and handed that to Mr. Edwards, who accepted it gamely. “Here is the cloak. I have a decorative shield somewhere in the house, and I am sure you will have a sword. Once I locate the shield, you will be perfectly suited for Achilles.”
Edwards thanked him, and the admiral dug through the trunk again and pulled out a long white robe and what looked like a rustic blue shawl embroidered with stars and a moon. He held them out to Felix. “When I first married Mrs. Mowbray, I was Endymion, and she went as Diana. You will make a perfect shepherd if you can find a staff somewhere. And with this shawl, you will easily be recognized as Endymion. Besides, you have the hair for it.”
Felix agreed to this meekly, feeling a bit like he was swept along in a current. He would rather be something a bit more manly than a sleeping shepherd, visited by Diana at night, only to spend his days miserable and moping.
Once the costumes had been distributed, a tea tray was brought, and the conversation shifted to how to stir the sympathies of the ton over the very real plight faced by the dead sailors’ families. Felix had not had time to gather a list of signatures from the widows in coastal towns, so Mr. Edwards offered to go and accomplish the task. They agreed that the best way to meet the widows’ most pressing needs was to apply to prominent sponsors and create a subscription fund. The move would be complementary, for the petitions would show the need and the subscription fund would demonstrate Society’s support. Felix could bring both before Parliament to enact legislation.
“And I will be the first to put my name on the subscription list for the widows’ needs,” the admiral said, slapping his armrest in satisfaction.
When Felix felt the conversation had drawn to a natural end, he set his hands on his knees. “If you will excuse me, I must be on my way to visit my father. He has come to London, for he was required to appear in the Prerogative Court of Canterbury. My sister Margaret has come with him.”
With a glance at the helmet sitting on the table in front of him, Mr. Edwards said, “If your sister and father are in London, perhaps they will wish to attend the masquerade.”
Felix bit back a laugh at the thought of his father dressing for a masquerade or allowing his daughter to come to one. He shook his head.
“It is most kind of you, but as vicar, he is overly cautious in the invitations he accepts. He fears to be seen as loose on morals by the stricter members of his parish.” He softened this by saying, “But you may depend upon me. I will look forward to it.”
He flagged down a hackney to Searle Street, where his father and sister had taken rooms, conscious that he was arriving later than had been expected. His sister opened the door at his knock.
“Felix!” She hugged him. “London is something to be wondered at. I did not expect it to be so big. How ever do you manage life here without always feeling overawed by it?”
“I believe you are too easily awed.” He was teasing, for he could remember his own first view of London and how much it had overwhelmed him. “I shall take you to see everything—even the royal menagerie, where you may cower before the tigers.”
She shuddered in earnest. “Oh no, anything but that.”
“A presentation to the queen, Megeween?” he proposed, cocking his head with a grin. She went pale and he went on teasing. “You needn’t fear, for she is not likely to speak to you. You need only worry about not tripping over your gown.”
He finally relented when it looked like she would faint. “Have no fear, Megs. Only those invited to visit the queen may do so. The rest of us are spared that honor.” He thought back to his own visit to the king’s levee, remembering how heartily glad he was to have been ignored after his initial reverence. He would not tell his father and sister about that, for they would likely make a bigger deal of it than was warranted.
Their father entered from another room. “Forgive me. I heard your arrival, but I was struggling to open the trunk I had brought with me. The clasp must be broken.”
“Do you need my help?” Felix asked, but his father only shook his head.
“If you are free at present, I wish to have some time to prepare my case before I must meet with the proctor. Might you escort Margaret out to see some of London?”
“Certainly.” Felix hesitated, wondering if he should mention the house he was contemplating purchasing in London, for he had not stopped thinking of it. But he felt unaccountably reluctant, and besides—his father was occupied. He glanced at his sister. “If you are ready?”
She nodded and fetched her bonnet and cloak from a peg near the door. He decided they would begin by going to Hyde Park. There was much to see with Society strolling about at this hour. A pleasant scenario struck of him running into Lady Sophia by chance. He had not forgotten about the picnic he’d invited her younger sister to and was determined to deliver the invitation, perhaps securing approval for his own sister to join as well.
They spent two hours walking in Hyde Park, where he impressed his sister by returning the acknowledgment of two gentlemen and a lady at separate intervals, then by providing her with her first taste of strawberry ice under the plane trees next to Gunter’s. His only disappointment was in not having seen Lady Sophia or another member of her family. On a whim, he glanced at Margaret.
“There is a family I know a very little—the daughters of the late Earl of Poole, and I met some of them for the first time when visiting Robert. They are his neighbors in Sussex,” he explained.
Her eyes grew wide. “You never told me you knew an earl. You must truly be important.”
He smiled at her naivete. “I don’t know an earl precisely. I’ve not met the heir yet. But I promised the youngest sister that I would arrange a small picnic, for she was disappointed at being excluded from a larger one. I thought we might go and see if they will receive us so we can fix a day.”
His sister looked at him with large, worried eyes—a feeling he was not far from himself. It seemed like an audacious thing to do were it not for the fact that he thought the invitation a justifiable excuse to call. Taking his sister’s arm, they went on foot to Grosvenor Square, where he knocked on the front door. Margaret looked up at the facade and then at him mutely. The broad row of immaculate houses fronted by an expansive carriage road were grander than what they were accustomed to seeing.
A footman opened the door, and Felix mustered a confidence he did not feel. “Good day. If you would be so good as to present my card to Lady Sophia, or any of the young ladies of the house, I will wait to see if they are at home to visitors. I have come with my sister, Miss Harwood.”
The butler came forward at that point and seemed to recognize him, for he did not betray any sign of shock at the presumption of an unannounced visit. After disappearing with the card, he returned. “Lady Sophia will receive you, if you would be so good as to wait. I will return in a moment.”
“Thank you.” Felix tried to settle his fast-beating heart, and Margaret was staring with open wonder at the bright corridor leading from the entrance hall. They waited in silence, and when the butler returned, he led them toward the drawing room.
