Page 44 of A Secret Infatuation
Camilla and Dorothea stood, preparing to leave, and Sophia got to her feet to go with them. Lord Pembroke nudged Evo to stand, which he did begrudgingly.
“That’s the way, Evo,” Lord Pembroke said. “Show them you are a gentleman.”
Dorothea laughed as they exited the box. It had grown cooler and fully dark in the time they ate their meal, but the paths and rotunda were well-lit with the excess of paper lanterns. Sophia could not resist another glance into the admiral’s box when she went by but was disappointed to see that it was empty but for the admiral and his wife and another older couple. She followed her sisters to one side of the rotunda, outside of the stone barriers, where two things happened at once. A man in a plain domino and loo mask came and bowed before Camilla. She looked at him in surprise.
“I hope I might have the honor of dancing with Minerva and trying my wit against hers,” he said. It was impossible to guess who he might be, but his speech was that of a gentleman.
She curtsied. “You may. Although Fortune cannot hope to win against strategy, so you must not allow your hopes to soar too high.”
He laughed and swept her away as Dorothea spotted a friend who had made little effort to disguise her identity. “Anne,” she called out. “I have not seen you this season.”
It was Dorry’s friend Anne Kensington, and Sophia did not begrudge them a chance to catch up, even if it meant waiting on the sidelines with no one to talk to. She stood straight, as regally as Diana herself, and watched the flash of color and movement of the dance in front of her. She felt a presence at her side and turned. Her gaze snagged on the blue scarf draped across a gentleman’s chest with suns and moons embroidered on it.
Then she lifted her eyes and found herself looking right into those of the man in a silver loo mask. He was close enough that she saw his eyes fixed on hers through the holes in his mask. His lips curved into a smile, but he did not speak, as though the moment had held him captive, too.
Mr. Harwood. He had come to her—had sought her out. Did he know it was her? She did not think he could. But it was time to be bold whether or not he did.
Chapter 19
Although Felix felt himself obliged to attend the masquerade, his motivation for going was to see Lady Sophia. It had been four days since the picnic and he had not been satisfied with his leave-taking, for once they had arrived in Grosvenor Square, their surroundings were too public for him to ask to see her again. One point in his favor was that young Lord Poole did not seem to despise him. But it all progressed too slowly, and he was determined to pursue Lady Sophia with more intention—to persuade her to begin a serious courtship.
It inspired him to take the one step he had too long hesitated over and purchase the house in Bloombsury. It was still available, and he had an appointment with his solicitor to sign for it the next day. There were no longer any doubts about the rightness of this purchase, and he dared hope the house would please Lady Sophia should he be so lucky as to win her for his wife.
He was glad to have Miss Edwards’s company, for she was just as pleasant and unaffected as she had been on the day of Hyde Park. Miss Mowbray and Mr. Edwards had found a common subject of humor in one Admiralty clerk who was forever spilling ink over important documents or losing his spectacles only to sit on them. Their laughter was not unkind, for Miss Mowbray began to think seriously about which young lady might suit him since he was clearly in need of a wife. Miss Edwards, on the other hand, was pleased to follow Felix in a discussion much more suited to his own interest—Lady Sophia—even if the conversation concerned subscriptions for the asylum and the best way to secure them.
Shortly after arriving in the admiral’s booth, Miss Mowbray leaned in to murmur that her friend, Lady Sophia, was crossing in front of their supper box at that moment. She had borrowed her mother’s character disguise of Diana and did it not suit her fetchingly?
That was all it took for Felix to grow distracted. Was that vision of bold loveliness truly her? He had caught sight of red lips and hair that was thick and piled high with curls that escaped down her back. She disappeared from his view where the path turned and led to the rotunda, but he kept his eyes peeled for her. After a short time, he was rewarded. She returned with her sister, and this time directed her attention to their box—at him. Perhaps it was her shyness, but she turned away before he could give any sign of recognition. She should know him, should she not? For he was clearly standing with her friend. But then, was that not what a masquerade was? A chance to pretend one was not acquainted, thereby being free to express all that was on one’s mind. Very well, he would play that game.
If Miss Mowbray had not pointed out her friend, he would not have known her. Lady Sophia generally wore discreet gowns, it seemed with an aim to blend into the room, clearly not realizing that her beauty did not permit such a thing. But tonight her chiton, although modest, allowed a glimpse of her figure. With red lips and hair cascading down her back, she revealed an entirely new, bewitching side to her.
Politeness compelled him to remain in the box while they ate and to stay afterward to partake in the conversation. With his eyes continually on the crowds passing by, he did not miss it when Lady Sophia passed in front of him again. Shortly thereafter, Robert and Grantly left their supper box, and Miss Mowbray invited them into hers. Miss Edwards drew Mr. Grantly into conversation with surprising ease, and at the first opportunity, Felix excused himself by saying he wished to walk around. He did not care whether Robert suspected his true aim or not; he had to see Lady Sophia.
The crowds had grown thick around the rotunda, making it difficult to spot her. He walked around it, craning his head to look, and then…she was there. Heart pounding, he approached and bowed, willing himself to fall into character and not propose to her on the spot.
“Do I have before me Diana, the goddess of the hunt?”
Her answering smile was arch and so unlike her in its teasing, his mind threatened to turn sluggish. “How ever did you guess?”
“Why, your legendary beauty.” He watched dimples appear in her cheeks below her mask, and she seemed to be fighting the smile that sprang up at his words. He reached around her, allowing his arm to brush hers as he touched the quiver strapped to her back. “And, of course, your weapon.”
“You must take great care, then, not to displease me,” she responded with mock severity. “And what are you, sir?”
It was then—only then—that the harmony of their costumes came to him. Endymion was the shepherd whom Diana loved; he loved her in return, although he could only meet with her in his dreams.
He affected a look of hurt. “Why, Diana, I am your Endymion. Can you not tell?”
It took a moment, then her eyes lit up, first in surprise, and then a laugh escaped her. “I see it now.” She then quelled her humor by scolding. “But should you not be sleeping?”
“You should not wish for me to sleep, my fair Diana, for it is our chance to break the eternal cycle. If we are meeting while I am awake, then it means we are destined to celebrate our love and not mourn its loss.”
She shot him a surprised look, and the way her mouth opened and closed let him know she did not miss the truth he had infused into his words.
“How is that so?” she asked, her voice now feeble.
Her return to shyness did not deter him. Instead, it made him long to confess both his identity and his love, but he refrained. It would be breaking the rules of the masquerade, and he might frighten her away. He needed to pursue her in a faithful, open manner, and not give her cause to think him volatile. So he answered as lightly as he could.
“Why, Endymion’s story is a tragic one that we should not wish to reproduce. He is hopelessly in love with Diana.” He paused and allowed himself to give her a significant look before going on. “She can visit him only when he sleeps and at no other time.”
