Page 29 of Presenting Miss Letitia (Once a Wallflower 1)

Chapter Eleven

Arietta had hired costumes especially for the Moncrief’s masked ball, to be held at their estate in Richmond. Letty in white and gold was Titania, Queen of the Fairies, from Shakespeare’s play A Midsummer Night’s Dream. Arietta in crimson and black, a lady from a fifteenth century Venice masked ball.

Letty turned before the mirror, admiring her flowing white gown, smoothing the long, full sleeves. A wide gold braid belt defined her waist, and narrow gold cord crossed over her bust. Artificial flowers and leaves of rose, gold, and green, decorated the low-cut bodice. Holding up the folds of the gown with a broad gold border at the hem, she slipped her feet into the gold sandals. More flowers circled her head, while wisps of her long hair framed her face, the rest was pinned loosely in a bun. She thought it a pity to cover such a lovely gown with the loose, hooded white cloak lined with yellow silk, called a domino. She stood ready, holding the cream and gold demi-mask which would tie at the back of her head.

“Titania!” Arietta greeted her at the foot of the stairs, dressed in her voluminous crimson gown revealing a slim waist and a dramatic black domino lined with crimson draped over her shoulders. Her crimson and black Venetian-styled mask looked exotic and mysterious.

When they entered the Moncrief’s ballroom, Letty gasped with amazement at the swirling tableau of color, riotous noise, and heavily scented air. The atmosphere was unlike anything she had yet experienced, or indeed ever imagined. It appeared that the masks lent the guests a sense of freedom as decorum and manners seemed to have deserted many of them.

The dancing was less ordered, the laughter louder, and displays of boisterous behavior made Letty stare openmouthed. A woman dressed as Bo-peep, held a crook with a satin bow, and led a lamb by a blue ribbon. A man, his legs bare beneath a tunic, wore a knight’s armor and a metal helmet which sported pink feathers. Another man in brightly colored silk trousers wore a turban on his head, and his slippers curled up oddly at the toes. There were several men in black dominoes, their masks like crows with elongated and fearsome beaks.

A man in green and gold with a high ruff around his neck in the manner of Shakespeare claimed her for the quadrille. “’Tis I, Miss Bromley,” said Mr. Boyce, his eyes warm behind his green mask.

“Heavens, sir, I would never have guessed,” Letty said. “How did you recognize me?”

“A mask does not hide your beauty, Miss Bromley, if I may be so bold,” her faithful and undeterred suitor claimed, before they were parted by the steps of the dance.

Letty waltzed with a gentleman in purple hose and black satin, whose hands moved lower than they should on her back. His leg pressed between hers as he turned her. She attempted to ease away from him, but he gripped her tightly. Arietta was dancing with their host nearby but not close enough for Letty to gain her attention. Nor would she welcome it. Letty would have to deal with this herself. “You are crushing my hand, sir,” she said loudly enough to be overheard by those around them.

“Beg pardon.” He loosened his grasp, his eyes glittering through the slits in his mask. He made a point of bending his head to ogle her bosom in the low-cut dress.

When the music stopped, and he led her back to her chair, she was so affronted, she refused to thank him. Slightly tipsy, he wandered away, apparently failing to notice the snub. A masquerade, it appeared, was a license to engage in bad behavior.

Letty looked about for Cartwright amid the sea of colorful costumes though it was impossible to spot him. Had he not come tonight? Somehow, she sensed he would be here. What better opportunity for a spy than a masked ball? Arietta had told her to wander at will, and confident no one would object, with only the few gentlemen who appeared at her side at every entertainment likely to approach her, Letty fully intended to.

When the orchestra took a recess, she slipped from the ballroom. Her heart in her mouth, she peeked into the other reception rooms. In the library, three men smoked and drank spirits, chuckling over an anecdote; none of them tall enough to be Cartwright.

She continued her search, determined to find him. Pleased that the domino and mask afforded her some freedom to eavesdrop, she went out onto the terrace and down the steps into the gardens. The path ambled through the topiary illuminated by braziers.

A couple passed her. “Have you lost your paramour?” the gentleman asked. His companion laughed as they continued on to the house.

Letty walked on past an arbor of fragrant roses in full bloom. The path wound its way through the shrubbery. Laughter came from amongst the trees, but she was relieved not to meet anyone, aware of how difficult it would be to explain why she wandered about without an escort.

She emerged from the rhododendron walk onto the closely clipped lawns. An artistic array of rocks hung with creepers formed a grotto where a small waterfall fed into a pool.

Men’s voices sounded nearby. Letty darted back in amongst the rhododendrons and crouched down, a purple flower tickling her chin. She peered through the branches, breathing in the honey-like aroma. Four gentlemen emerged from the side of the ruin, the hoods of their black dominoes pushed back, and their crow-like masks on top of their heads. Two of them smoked cigars, the smoke wafting toward her. As they gathered beside the pool, the moon cast off the fitful clouds and its rays alighted on a head of white hair. Lord Fraughton.

Surely Cartwright can’t be far away? She didn’t fancy him finding her as she’d chosen to ignore his somewhat sinister warning. Letty didn’t mind fencing with him, in fact, she quite enjoyed it, but not when it would be so one-sided. Best keep to the shadows. She had no intention of missing this. It was an excellent opportunity to hear something of interest to convey to Arietta.

“I am informed our cargo was landed in the marsh wrapped in oilskin bags,” a man said as he tossed his cigar into the pool. “It was then ferried up the creek on a moonless night to a waiting wagon, successfully avoiding the coastguard. The dragoons search all the houses and lands near the coast, but never venture as far as my estate. They won’t accuse a lord of smuggling unless they’ve clear proof. Not if they know what’s good for them.”

“Unless the excisemen get wind of it,” a familiar voice growled. “They might be waiting until they have that evidence.”

“You are a dreary fellow these days, Marston,” Fraughton said. He sounded quite jubilant. “Well done, Elford! Our first operation since we lost Napoleon’s support has been a success.”

“The goods will be brought to London through the usual channels,” Elford said. “But the smugglers are asking for a larger cut of the profits.”

“How much more?”

Letty could never forget Marston’s deep voice. Not after she’d overheard him in the library with Fraughton’s wife. It shocked her, he was the lady’s lover, and they’d spoken, however frivolously, of wanting Fraughton out of the way. She wondered if Cartwright knew?

They showed no inclination to leave. A painful cramp in her calf forced Letty to straighten slowly and carefully from her crouched position. She peered through the branches.

“They want a cut of our profits,” Elford said.

“Not a chance. Should we have them disposed of after the next batch arrives?” Fraughton asked.

Marston made a derogatory sound. “A watery grave seems fitting.”

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