Lady Eugenia's Holiday (3 page)

“Well, now that you have finished your business and
have successfully found us, I believe it’s time to be off,” Lady Penelope said,
giving Eugenia a gentle nudge.

“Must you?
Wirklich
? I
vas
hoping you would share tea
vish
a humble musician such as myself.” He gave them the most forlorn expression.

Eugenia had only seen such a look on a dog denied a
bone. Miss Cynthia gazed at Lady Penelope then Eugenia, pleading that they
accept Herr Mueller’s kind offer.

They were not in a hurry to leave nor did they have
any pressing engagements. Eugenia sent a forlorn glance at Lady Penelope for
some compassion. Would she not reconsider just this once?

Apparently Lady Penelope was quite adept at masking
what she genuinely felt she as acquiesced. “Yes, of course. We’d be delighted,”
she lied.

Herr Mueller led the ladies to a table and took a
seat with them. It seemed to please him to no end.

“Please,
ve
are all such
gut friends, you must call me Franz.”

“Yes, Franz!” Miss Cynthia echoed, very excited. “And
you shall be Penelope and you, Eugenia!”

“I really do not think it proper, Herr Mueller,”
Lady Penelope lowered her voice and replied in all seriousness. “We, the
ladies, perhaps might manage but … you are a … gentleman. I cannot see how it
is in any way acceptable to polite Society.”

He exhaled and appeared deflated at the news. “Perhaps
you are correct. I apologize to you.”

“Oh, Franz….” Cynthia empathized with him then
offered to make him feel better. “Please, I insist all of you call me Cynthia.”

“Well, he is known to you,” Penelope pointed out. “But
we have only just met him. I maintain that it cannot be proper for Eugenia nor
I
to be on such intimate terms.”

“I understand.” Franz managed to hold his chin high
and accept Penelope’s reasoning.

The ladies stayed for only half an hour before
making their excuse that they needed to prepare for that night’s ball. The
masquerade ball Eugenia had so been looking forward to
was
to take place at the Old Ship.

The three young ladies planned to meet once inside.
Franz, who, with a great deal of enthusiasm, could not wait to meet up with the
ladies once again, told them he was invited to play at least once during the
evening.

Eugenia and Cynthia cheered with great
anticipation.

It was not beyond Penelope to feign delight at his
expected presence.

Eugenia started her thorough and laborious toilette
soon after arriving at Grove House. She was to attend a ball—a masquerade ball!
It would be the night of her dreams! She would meet young men and dance until
dawn.

Before entering the Old Ship’s elegant ballroom,
Eugenia donned a domino. She felt as if every eye focused upon her anonymous
form. She found Cynthia and Penelope shortly after her arrival. No sooner did
Eugenia greet her new friends than they were deluged with a dozen admirers.

“We cannot possibly dance with them all!” Cynthia
appeared overwhelmed by the attention and could say nothing when a blond,
curly-haired Romeo squired her away.

Eugenia had only dreamed of this kind of notice.
Never did she imagine it would truly happen. A dashing, masked man bowed, took
her hand, and escorted her to the dance floor.

“Speak for yourself, Genie,” Penelope called to her
while passing with a dance partner of her own.

They spent a good part of the masked portion of the
ball amusing themselves with the young men. Eugenia could not say any of the
gentlemen struck her as memorable—they all looked too similar. Nor could she
swear that she did not dance with any of them more than once.

“I do not believe I can stand up for another set.”
Trying to catch her breath, Cynthia stood stock-still next to Eugenia. “Refuse
them, Genie, refuse them all!”

Eugenia laughed at her friend’s edict. The two
masked gentlemen approaching the ladies halted when she waved them away,
refusing their attention.

“Where is Penelope? Is she still dancing?” Cynthia
glanced around and laid her hand on Eugenia’s arm, steadying herself. “Or has
she returned?”

“Somewhere, out there,” Eugenia gestured to the
dance floor, “is Penelope among the dozens and dozens of prancing couples.”

They stood quiet for a moment, watching the guests.

“Were any of the gentlemen you danced with
noteworthy?” Cynthia’s attention remained fixed on the guests stepping about in
time to the music. Perhaps she was still searching for signs of Penelope.

“I must confess, without the benefit of seeing
their entire faces, they seem much alike. Can you say any one gentleman has
gained your favor?” As Eugenia waited for an answer, she felt Cynthia grip her
arm more tightly.

Cynthia’s eyes widened behind her mask and a
strange look came across her friend’s face. The odd thing of it all was,
Cynthia wasn’t looking at her. Her stare passed over Eugenia’s shoulder and
stretched far beyond where they stood.

Curbing her half-curious, half-terrified,
completely overwhelming feeling on confronting the apparition, Eugenia turned
slowly to see what had attracted Cynthia’s attention. All of a sudden, she
faced it … him.

She felt as if time drew to a standstill. There was
a man. A tall, slender, dark-haired man with a stray lock curled upon his
forehead. A man worthy enough to inhabit one of Eugenia’s fantasies.

He made his approach, moving with such smoothness
and grace across the room. His cape billowed around him and the mask obscured
half his face. His mouth, in a dreamy half smile, greeted Eugenia.

The piercing, intense gaze from his dark eyes captured
hers. Eugenia felt her neck warm and her cheeks flush. Incapable of movement,
she did not think she could have fainted even if she had wanted to.

Once she’d laid eyes on this stranger, Eugenia had
not drawn a single breath. Then, ever so slowly, movement from the people
around them began.

His hand reached out for her. All this felt as if
it were happening for a very long time, which proved most fortuitous. It gave
her ample opportunity to put to memory the intricate engraving of his gold
signet ring.

As soon as he took her hand, Eugenia felt as if her
feet had left the ground. He took her into his arms and she felt as if they
floated on air across the dance floor. The entire incident seemed very fuzzy,
as if it were a dream. But she knew it all to be quite real.

After their dance, he placed a kiss upon her hand
and uttered a polite thank-you. He turned from her, strode off the dance floor,
and exited through the door from which he had come.

Just like that … he was gone.

Who was that man? Eugenia wished she knew!

Penelope rose Eugenia out of her surreal stupor to
tell her it was time to remove their masks. Eugenia was anxious to do so and
discover the identity of her stranger.

“Did you see him?” Eugenia anxiously asked
Penelope. Penelope? Where had Cynthia gone?

“See him? How could one not see him?” Penelope
replied in equal excitement. “Dearest Genie … he was so … so …” But words
failed her.

Although he seemed very real to them, when they
made inquiries about him to the other ladies, they did not seem to recall
seeing this mysterious dark-haired man.

That was impossible.

Eugenia was certain that if the other guests had
seen him, they would certainly have remembered him.

She was grateful Penelope had seen him at the end
of their dance. Cynthia, who was the first to see him, watched as he and
Eugenia had stepped onto the floor. It reassured Eugenia that she was not going
mad, had not brought him to life from her fertile imagination.

As she and Penelope walked back to the ballroom,
Eugenia fanned herself. Just talking about the stranger caused her face and
neck to warm.

“You must find him,” Penelope told Eugenia. “If it
is the sole accomplishment of the evening you must know who that man is. And I
shall do all I can to help you.”

With set determination, they strolled into the
grand room together. On arrival, they noticed straightaway that no one was
dancing. The guests stood silent, staring toward the musicians, the pianist in
particular.

Cynthia sat next to her mother in the front row. At
the pianoforte, Herr Mueller played a piece Eugenia had never heard with great
flourish and in exquisite form. A small part of Eugenia regretted being tardy
and missing the beginning of his performance.

“We are most fortunate, Genie,” Penelope whispered
to Eugenia. “We have an excellent opportunity to study all the gentlemen in
attendance.”

Indeed, all the guests stood or sat quietly,
listening to the musical performance, making the task an easy one. Eugenia’s
gaze passed over the females standing among the gentlemen. She moved her
attention from one gentleman’s face to the next, looking for the familiar
features she thought she remembered so well. He was nowhere to be seen.

Just as Franz put the finishing touches on the
musical piece, Eugenia saw him standing in the far doorway that led into the
card rooms.

“There he is!” Eugenia whispered and indicated the
man across the room.

Penelope saw him immediately. He was leaning
against the open door frame with a contemplative, gold-ring-adorned hand to his
face.

“It is him.” Penelope stared wide-eyed at him.
Perhaps she thought he would disappear if she should blink.

“I wonder who he
is?
”
Eugenia couldn’t help but be curious. He looked to be someone of great
consequence. If that were true, why would someone such as he single her out for
a dance?

“I think you should find out,” Penelope said with a
tight smile. “That gentleman made quite a dramatic display to gain your
attention. It is only fair that you should let him know he has done so.”

Penelope’s tone implied that what she really wanted
to know was why Eugenia and not her? To tell the truth, Eugenia could not help
but wonder that too.

He must have felt Eugenia stare at him. He returned
her gaze along with an amused smile. Leaning toward his male companion, the
stranger whispered to him.

Penelope dropped her fan open, hid the lower half
of her face, leaned in, and whispered to Eugenia. “You need to lure him to you.”

“What?” Eugenia fingered her fan, preparing to
follow Penelope’s instructions.

“Open your fan,” Penelope repeated. “Draw it toward
your face and gaze at him over the top.”

Dropping her fan open, Eugenia glanced at her
friend, checking to see if she was applying the fan correctly. She made the
movements slow.

“Now tilt your head … and turn away from him ever
so slightly.”

Eugenia turned her shoulder and coyly dropped her
gaze before abruptly returning her attention to his face. Even she knew that
such obvious flirtations to one whom you have not been properly introduced
would be considered scandalous.

“You need to let him know you are interested in
making his acquaintance,” Penelope urged.

Eugenia’s actions seemed to have amused him. An
absolutely sinful smile passed over his lips. Her message had been received.

“Well done!” Penelope praised Eugenia with a
squeeze to her arm. “I believe you have successfully intrigued him. It looks as
if he may be on his way here.”

The music ended only seconds later. The guests
milling about obstructed her view of him for the next several minutes. When the
center of the room began to clear, Eugenia saw quite clearly that he moved in
her direction.

She could feel a knot begin to tighten in her
stomach. Eugenia wondered what had possessed her to take such daring action and
tried to keep her wits about her.

Eugenia kept glancing at Penelope in a silent plea
for help, but feared the kind of instruction she might receive. “Whatever am I
going to do?”

“Why, Genie, you’re going to introduce yourself.”
She smiled, seeming quite at ease.

Penelope left Eugenia gaping at the impropriety.
She tried to catch her breath, still her heart, and settle her nerves before
his arrival.

The throng of people thinned before her. Eugenia
watched the two gentlemen continue their passage across the floor. The
stranger’s approach varied from his last.

During the first, Eugenia could see an almost
predatory glint in his eye that entranced her by its sheer determination. This
time, he merely strolled across the floor in a calm, casual approach.

He moved with the grace Eugenia vividly remembered.
His arms swung by his side in perfect rhythm. His legs were long; he crossed
the room in no time at all. His exuding self-confidence and refinement be spoke
his breeding. She would not be surprised to learn that he was a gentleman of
some consequence.

His intense stare should have frightened her. It
was his dark gaze that first drew her attention, then her curiosity. Eugenia
felt compelled to speak to him, with or without a proper introduction.

“Allow me to make myself known to you, ladies.”
Something about his voice sounded familiar … perhaps it was from what she could
recall of the few words he had uttered to her on the dance floor.

Eugenia could not bring herself to look from him
and glance toward the card room in search of the Master of Ceremonies or Aunt
Rose to do the honors. How she had wished for a proper introduction.

“Thomas Mallick.” The stranger sketched a bow. “Duke
of Rothford.”

Eugenia was suitably impressed, as was Penelope by
her soft, sudden intake of breath.

“My friend,” he turned and gestured just so to
imply the gentleman next to him, “The Honorable Donald Hamby.”

Eugenia dipped a curtsy and introduced herself and
Penelope in turn.

“So very pleased to make your acquaintance.” Mr.
Hamby bowed over Penelope’s hand, then Eugenia’s.

“May I suggest we remove to the refreshment room to
remedy my parched throat?” Rothford suggested and he offered Eugenia his arm.

She hesitated but Penelope had already accepted Mr.
Hamby’s escort and strolled past. Eugenia could not very well remain standing
with the duke as their friends walked away. She took his arm and they followed.

The two couples found the refreshments and each
partook of a glass of punch. Their conversation consisted strictly of socially
acceptable, polite subjects and never neared a topic of a questionable or
personal nature.

After a good half hour of pleasant conversation,
the duke interrupted with sad news. “I am having such a delightful time, and I
am quite distraught that I cannot stay to claim a dance. I am afraid Mr. Hamby
and I must be off.”

“Oh?” Was this some type of masquerade mystery game
that they should deny they had shared a dance?

“Do you plan to attend the public tea on Sunday?”
Rothford asked Eugenia.

“Well, we hadn’t thought much about it,” she
answered.

Penelope leaned in. “I shall do all I can to persuade
her that she must be present, Your Grace.”

“Excellent!” Mr. Hamby remarked, quite happy with
Penelope’s answer.

Rothford then replied, “Perhaps we shall see you
two lovely ladies there.”

The gentlemen made their farewells and left.

“Of course he wants to meet you there,” Penelope
said with complete confidence.

Eugenia wasn’t so certain. She thought he behaved
exactly how a well-mannered man would, nothing more.

“A gentleman in his position cannot show partiality,”
Penelope stated. “He cannot appear anxious for your next meeting, even though
he might have feelings to the contrary. I’m sure it must be as apparent to you
as it is to me that he is more than overwhelmed at the thought of seeing you
again.” She showed more far more delight than the duke had. “It is so beyond …
anything! He is a duke, Genie!”

“I am aware of that.” Simply holding the position
of duke did not secure her affection.

“How can you not be thrilled?”

“It’s just that I find his reaction to me lacking.”
How Penelope could imagine that he showed any type of enthusiasm regarding
Eugenia was beyond her.

“Do you not see that he must show some semblance of
discretion?”

Was Eugenia to presume his less-than-stellar
response was due to decorum and was only a pretense?

“You shall see,” Penelope remarked with a nod. “We
will just have to show some patience and wait to see how matters between the
two of you progress.”

We? Was not Eugenia the one, not Penelope, being
pursued by His Grace?

Eugenia and Penelope were again beseeched to stand
up with several gentlemen. They did the pretty. As Penelope reminded Eugenia, “We
can hardly disappoint them, can we?”

After the first dance set, Herr Mueller made his
appearance in the ballroom. Eugenia was pleased to see him. Penelope made sure
they did not cross paths.

“Is he not
très
gauche?”
Penelope whispered confidentially to Eugenia. “It is one thing to share a few
words with him at the library or to even sit next to him at a small dinner
party, but to be seen at a large public assembly … We must think of our reputations.”

Eugenia was less concerned about being seen with
Franz and wondered how tarnished her reputation would be by keeping company
with Penelope.

“He is so … out-of-date. At least one hundred years!”
Penelope wrinkled her nose as if she had detected some unpleasant odor.

“I really do not think he is all that old.” Eugenia
suspected he was no more than five years her senior. She had to admit it was
difficult to see the true nature of the man behind the brocade, powder, and
rouge.

“That wig makes him look positively ancient! I
cannot imagine how—”

As luck would have it, Aunt Rose took this most
opportune time to interrupt. “It is time, Genie.” Aunt Rose held out her hand
for Eugenia.

This fortunate action spared Eugenia from being
subjected to Penelope’s never-ending list of the talented Austrian’s failings
on a personal level.

“Perhaps it is best you leave. You should thank
your aunt for her early departure. I would.” Penelope glanced at Cynthia and
Franz who were heading in their direction. “It will save you from that horrid
little man’s uninteresting and endless discourse.”

That night Eugenia had the most wonderful dream.
She danced all night in Rothford’s arms. Alone in the ballroom, on the deserted
dance floor, the well-mannered duke abandoned the formal behavior he had
displayed when they finally met.

She could feel the strength of his arm and the
warmth of his hand on her back, holding her against him.

He wore the same mask. It hid the upper half of his
face. Only the dark, sculpted curls atop his head and his lips were exposed.
She reached up and stripped the mask away, only to find another in its place.

She all but exhausted herself making repeated
attempts at unmasking him, only to fail. It felt heavenly to be in his arms,
except she could not help but wonder who the real man behind the mask was.

Penelope insisted she and Eugenia visit Cynthia
that very next afternoon to relay their discovery that the masked man at the
masquerade was none other than the Duke of Rothford.

Cynthia had barely settled on the sofa cushion in
her family’s turquoise and gold parlor before she asked, “Is he truly a duke,
Genie?” Her wide-open eyes focused on Eugenia for an answer.

“You should have been there, Cynthia.” Penelope
gave the account of how the Duke of Rothford and his companion, the Honorable
Donald Hamby, became known to them. It had been a critical gathering that
Cynthia had missed. “The Duke saw to the introductions himself.”