“Edward had other plans this evening.” She pursed her lips as resolve filled her. These next few months were all she had. Her life would change drastically once she was trapped in marriage. She expected to be as miserable as her mother was. The vague expression Lady Wynn wore, especially when her husband started on one of his tirades, was heartbreaking.
Then there was the glass of sherry so often at her elbow that Charlotte had realized wasn’t truly sherry but something stronger. The frequent headaches that gave her an excuse to remain abed, the lack of concern about anything, combined with the bland expression she so often wore, suggested she used any means necessary to cushion herself from the reality of her life.
Those signs caused Charlotte to study the other married women around her, and she’d realized that ladies like her mother were the majority rather than the minority. Marriage was the beginning of the end. A business arrangement that both parties endured with stoicism and numbness.
Charlotte loved her mother but didn’t want to become her.
The thoughts strengthened her determination to see through with the evening’s plans. If she wanted to enjoy life, she had to take every opportunity open to her.
Carpe diem.
Charlotte held tight to the thought and leaned back against the bench seat, determined to relax and enjoy the evening. “Did you bring your mask?” she asked Barbara.
Her friend nodded enthusiastically. “It’s gorgeous. I can’t wait to wear it.”
Barbara was a friend best taken in small doses. She rarely thought about consequences and met life with blind enthusiasm, making her the perfect companion for this sort of evening. Her lack of regard for more serious topics frustrated Charlotte. But on this night, the lack would play to Charlotte’s advantage.
“Do you have yours?”
Charlotte held up the gold and green mask that had been tucked in the sleeve of her Spencer.
“Perfect,” Barbara declared. “I cannot wait to see how everyone is dressed as well as their masks. What do you suppose Madame Bernard will wear?”
“I didn’t think you were venturing to the gathering to admire their fashion or lack thereof,” Lord Palmer drawled as he stared out the window as if bored by the conversation. “Surely you would prefer to engage in a more exciting activity.”
Another prickle of nerves struck Charlotte as she wondered what the lord had in mind, but she did her best to ignore it.
“Why don’t we begin the evening properly?” He reached into the dark corner of his seat and retrieved a bottle of champagne and three fluted glasses from a basket. “I believe a toast to our adventure is in order.”
Barbara clapped her gloved hands in delight. “How thoughtful of you, dear brother.”
He opened the bottle with practiced ease, the pop causing Charlotte to jerk even as Barbara giggled. When Palmer handed Charlotte the first glass, she held it carefully before her and off to one side, not wanting a bump in the road to cause her to spill the bubbly, golden liquid on her gown.
“To our adventure.” Palmer raised his glass and looked at both of them in turn. “May we all find a thrill we didn’t expect this evening.” His gaze lingered on Charlotte as he finished the toast, his shockingly predatory expression making her uneasy.
With a mental shake at her ridiculous thoughts, Charlotte forced a smile. It wasn’t as if she would be alone with him. Barbara was at her side, and Charlotte intended to make certain that didn’t change. She wanted to have fun, not place herself in danger. “To our adventure.”
“Yes, to adventure.” Barbara took a sip quickly followed by another. “I intend to dance as much as possible. What if they play a waltz?” Her eyes rounded at the scandalous thought.
Aware of Lord Palmer’s continued regard, Charlotte shook her head. “I don’t think I’ll waltz.” Though the dance had become integrated into Society, including at Almack’s Assembly Rooms, her parents thought the dance scandalous.
“Why not? We’ll be wearing our masks. No one will know.” Lady Barbara held out her glass for a refill and nudged Charlotte to do the same. “I want to do it at least once.”
Deciding she appreciated the way the drink eased her nerves, Charlotte accepted a refill as well. Between the mask and the champagne, perhaps a waltz wouldn’t be so terrible after all.
Lord Palmer clinked his glass against hers again. “Finish your drinks, ladies. We’re nearly there.”
Anticipation simmered as the carriage drew to a halt. They returned their glasses to the basket, donned their masks, and alighted.
Charlotte smiled at the sight of the two-story mansion with torches lighting the path to the front door as anticipation filled her.
This. This was the exact type of experience she’d longed for, where she felt a thrill from the tips of her toes to the top of her head. She intended to collect as many moments like this one as possible this Season. Before she married and everything changed.
“Let us see what we can see.” Charlotte linked her arm through Barbara’s, leaving Lord Palmer to follow, hoping to make it clear she wasn’t open to any advances from him.
The crush of people, all wearing masks, some wearing outrageous attire, was a sight to behold. One man wore a gold-colored suit coat that sparkled in the candlelight. Another strutted past whose outfit brought to mind a peacock. The ladies were equally amazing, some with low necklines that left little to the imagination. Others wore wigs piled high on their head, decorated with colorful ribbons and tall feathers. Many wore heavy rouge and painted lips along with colorful masks.
She and Barbara strolled around the room, enjoying the décor of gold and silver along with an entire mirrored wall. Even the footmen wore gold and silver uniforms as well as masks. Everything glittered.
Charlotte felt underdressed in her simple green silk gown. Thank goodness her mask was elaborately beaded, covering most of her eyes and cheeks.
