At the Masked Ball
Nov. 6th, 2022 03:30 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
rix_scaeduElsbeth was confident that no-one would recognise her. She was at the Grantham’s masked ball and instead of taking the opportunity to have a little too much of her flesh on public display, she had chosen to cover almost her entire person. The dress was form fitting, made of dusky purple satin under decorative net of the same colour, but it was high collared and fell to her ankles. The sleeves were elbow length, ending just above the matching elbow length gloves. Her mask covered everything on her face above the bottom of her ears and her hair was pinned up under a glorious monstrosity of a hat that involved tulle, feathers, and some decorative elements that she couldn’t even name. For this evening she was Madam Incognita.
Julius was less dressed than usual. In fact, he was feeling distinctly undressed. Because he had wanted to be something and someone completely different to himself this evening, he had decided to come as a pirate. No old-fashioned wig dictated by the loving relative with all the money tonight, just his own close-cropped hair under a tricorn hat and a simple black mask. His shirt was open at the neck, and he wore neither a cravat nor a stock, leaving his throat bare to the world. There were a comfortable pair of worn-in boots on his feet and his buckskin breeches were also clean but comfortably worn in. He was wearing a coat and waistcoat, but both hung open over his shirt. Several men dressed as classical gods were showing more of themselves to the world than he was, but he still felt exposed.
As it was a masked ball, Lady Grantham was not receiving her guests as they arrived but instead was having her butler announce them as who they had come as when they entered the ballroom. However, being a member of the family in residence, Julius avoided being announced at all, slipping into the room through a servant’s doorway and securing himself a glass of champagne when he did so. Thus armed, he joined the party without attracting any attention and or speculation about his identity. All with none of the expectations of his behaviour that came with his real identity. It was rather pleasant. Grandmama couldn’t berate him to maintain the formal standards of her youth, his parents couldn’t nag him to make Grandmama happy, and he could avoid the fiancée they had foisted on him and her indecorous dress sense.
Just as he was congratulating himself on these points, the butler announced, “Madam Incognita!” He watched with growing appreciation as the woman descended the stairs, a smile on her lips, her the curves of her body hugged by her dress, and barely any skin on show at all. It was a spectacular statement when fashion was baring the female upper torso from the chin to the armpit. If one did not know the lady already, she wasn’t showing enough of herself to be identifiable. Julius was enchanted.
The pirate wearing his grandfather’s tricorn was the first person to walk up to Elsbeth when she reached the bottom of the stairs. He swept a second glass of champagne off a footman’s tray as he made his way to her and then presented it to her with a bow and a smile. “Madam Incognita, I am but a nameless pirate but as we are both here alone, may I offer you a drink and my company?”
“You may.” She silently wondered if she knew him – the voice was familiar but not so familiar that she could place its owner without a full view of his face.
They made light conversation and made each other laugh. Because they were having fun, more people joined them: two shepherd girls, barely out of the school room, were steered over by a middle-aged man dressed as King Midas whom Julius silently recognised as a well-known roue; two young men, only a year or so older than the shepherdesses, who were in town for the university vacation and had no costumes so only wore plain black masks with a black domino each over their clothes; and a Roman matron, or possibly a mature goddess, accompanied by a Roman legionary. It soon became clear that King Midas was the shepherdesses’ uncle, and he was concerned that they would meet men just like him as their chaperone had gone missing almost as soon as they had entered the ballroom. The young men were trying to regain their sangfroid after being propositioned by a lady they were certain was a friend of their mothers’ and the Roman couple were married, but not to each other. Julius reflected briefly that this may not be the party his mother had intended to throw and went back to enjoying himself.
Their ad hoc group danced, drank moderate amounts of champagne and lots of Lady Grantham’s very good lemonade in deference to the shepherdesses’ youth, and occupied a large table at supper. Elsbeth danced four times with the pirate and sat next to him at the supper table. She was considering going for a walk with him on the terrace when he turned around and asked her if she’d like to take the air with him. She agreed.
They were not the only couple taking the night air, some more intent on the night air than others. Julius found them a quiet corner that was not already occupied by a couple in conversation or close quarters. “I like you,” he began, “and under other circumstances, I would like to know you better. However, my parents have just arranged and announced my betrothal. I’ve only met the young lady three times, but I cannot embarrass either of you by pursuing a courtship with you.”
Elsbeth sighed. “I’m engaged too. It seems to be going around just now – I know of eight couples in the ton who’ve had engagements announced by their parents in the last week. I think I’ve said four words to my betrothed. He seems very nice, and his father’s dogs like him, but I haven’t been allowed to talk to him.” She gave a little laugh and went on, “My parents think that I just need to sit there and do my best to look pretty and fashionable. I tried to speak to him, and my mother kicked me in the ankle.”
He asked, “How did you manage to get here alone tonight then?”
She smiled. “Our hostess promised to chaperone me, and I’ve avoided her all night. I am sure they will all be very cross.”
“It’s a masked ball,” he smiled back at her. “There is some latitude for stepping outside the usual social bounds.”
“I hope that my betrothed and his family don’t think that I’ve crossed too far beyond those bounds.” She gave herself a little shake. “Though this is the worst thing I’ve done all night, and it’s not as if we’re alone out here.”
“True,” he gave a quick look around, “but we might be the most restrained people out here. Shall we go back inside?” He offered her his arm.
“I think we should. Unmasking is at midnight, and we don’t want to draw attention to ourselves by being the last to unmask.” She smiled as she took his arm. “Thank you, sir pirate, for a pleasant evening and the pleasure of your company.”
“And to you likewise, Madam Incognita.” They walked back into the ballroom completely unmussed and with no traces of anything illicit having happened. As far as Julius could tell, most people were too busy with their own enjoyment of the evening to pay attention where none was attracted.
Even so, the errant pair re-joined their impromptu party just as the carefully positioned clock against the ballroom wall began to strike midnight. As the last stroke died away, a woman dressed as Britannia stood at the top of the stairs and proclaimed, “And now it is time for all to reveal their faces!” Then she removed her mask to reveal the face of their hostess, Lady Grantham. Everyone else followed suite, some going so far as to throw their masks into the air.
King Midas was exactly who Julius had thought he was, and his nieces really were a pair of sweet-faced girls whose progress through the Season might well be giving the man nightmares. Their chaperone re-emerged from wherever she had gone to, to have King Midas say with low voiced precision, “When we get home, Cousin Martha, you and I are going to talk.”
The two very young men down from university for the vacation were meanwhile asking the very young ladies if they could call on them tomo…, no later in the day. One of the young ladies was enthusiastically agreeing and the other was smiling happily.
The Roman matron, Lady Caroline Weatherby, and the Roman legionary, General Sir Marcus Ramsey (ret), were taking punctilious leave of each other. As Lady Caroline’s husband had been roaming between Kandahar and Isfahan for the last decade, and Sir Marcus’ wife resided year-round in a Tuscan villa with one Lord Hugh Danforth and a man known as the Conte di Monte Bianco, even the gossips who noticed thought the two of them were acting with commendable restraint.
Meanwhile, the pirate and Madam Incognita unmasked. Surprised and shy, Elsbeth said, “Oh, it’s you. I didn’t recognise you without the wig. I like your hair,” she added.
“Thank you,” Julius bowed because it seemed to be the thing to do. “I only wear the wig and the rest because my grandmother insists. Thanks to Grandfather’s will, she holds the purse strings.” He smiled wryly at her. “I didn’t recognise you either. I think it’s because you covered your hair and your face.”
“Not because I covered up my cleavage?” She gave him a cheeky grin. “A lot of gentlemen seem to look there instead of at my face, particularly at a distance.” She sighed. “My mother does insist that I dress as fashionably as possible. As for the purse strings,” she leaned forward and whispered in his ear, “make sure that the marriage settlements put the nett of my income after my pin money and expenses into your hands, not your father’s or grandmother’s.”
“Oh?” He leaned back a little to look her in the face. “They’ve not talked about that with me.”
“Well I am, while I can. I have six thousand a year from investments in Funds. Two thousand is being kept aside for my personal use. The rest should be under your control, as my husband. Work on it.” Elsbeth finished talking as her future mother -in-law glided up to them.
“Darlings, I see you found each other all on your own. How wonderful! Julius, make sure that you don’t let your grandmother see you like that, you know how she is.”
As Lady Grantham linked arms with her son and his betrothed to lead them in the direction of a final champagne, Julius Grantham muttered, “Yes, Mother I do. I do believe I do.”