Until You (24 page)

Her disappointment was clearly evident to the other three people in the room as well as she removed the small perfume flask from its bed of blue velvet.  Granted it was obviously an expensive fragrance, but it was the type of gift that required absolutely no thought.  It was the type of gift one could send a servant to purchase, and with a heavy heart, Ashleigh realized that Nicholas had most likely done just that.  “Thank you, Your Grace,” she murmured, without meeting his gaze.

Nicholas felt like a complete ass.  He hadn't even known what was in the package.  The morning he’d left London he had instructed his housekeeper to purchase a gift suitable for a seventeen-year old female houseguest of his grandmother's.  The wrapped package had been placed amongst the other items Nicholas had been taking back to
Sethe
Manor and he was ashamed that he hadn't even inquired as to its contents.
 
Of course, he’d never imagined that her gift to him would be something so extraordinary or personal, but he was humbled nonetheless.

When the last of the gifts had been opened, Ashleigh retired to her room with the excuse that she wanted to pen a letter to her uncle.  When she entered her bedchamber, she walked over and seated herself upon the window seat.  In her hand she tightly gripped the small perfume flask that Nicholas had given her.  As she watched the newly falling snow swirling downward like glittering diamond shards, she unclenched her fist and looked at the purple-tinted crystal flask.  Without thinking, she suddenly stood up and hurled the flask with all of her might into the stone fireplace, and then watched in horrified fascination as it shattered into a thousand pieces.  With her hand pressed against her lips in horror, she sank back onto the window seat, and then a moment later, buried her face in her hands and wept.

That afternoon Nicholas returned to London, despite Madeline’s objections, claiming he had business matters in the city that needed his immediate attention.  In truth, his thoughts as well as his emotions were in turmoil and he needed to distance himself from the cause it all, Ashleigh.  To appease his grandmother he’d promised to return to the country for New Year’s and had agreed to attend Lady
Taryton's
masquerade ball with the family.

  Ashleigh didn’t learn of Nicholas’ departure until the following morning at breakfast, for she had been overcome by nausea after returning to her room the previous afternoon, and had felt so poorly afterward that she had been unable to attend the evening meal.  She supposed it was for the best that he’d gone, for Madeline was certain to note the underlying tension between her, Nicholas and Brendon before long.

Over the course of the next few days, Ashleigh continued to spend the majority of her time with Brendon.  He took her on sleigh rides when the weather permitted, and when it didn’t they stayed inside and played cards or chess.  He also taught her how to fence, for when she had learned that Brendon was somewhat of an expert with the rapier, she had begged him to teach her. 

Now, as they had been doing for the past two days, they practiced in the immense ballroom surrounded by the dozens of large mirrors that reflected their every thrust and parry.  Ashleigh loved the motion of the thin blade as it sliced through the air and the balanced weight of the silver hilt that she held in her hand.  The blade was supple and lethal, but at present the end was affixed with a small, protective brass cap, as was Brendon's.

Brendon had been amazed at how quickly she had picked up the basics of fencing and had soon declared that she had natural talent.  He grinned at her now, as their blades clanged together in musical dissonance.  Ashleigh's concentration was intent however, focused upon the glinting rapiers and Brendon's ever-moving figure.  He moved with the grace of a dancer, belying his height and size, and she was far from a match to his skill and experience.  As such, she appreciated his unending patience as he taught her the techniques she needed to wield the deadly blade. 

They had been practicing earnestly for over an hour though, and as much as she hated to admit it, she was beginning to tire.  She always did her best to keep her fatigue hidden, for whenever Brendon thought she was getting the least bit tired he immediately ended the lessons, always concerned for her delicate condition, though she constantly assured him that she was fine.

A few minutes later however, Ashleigh was about to tell Brendon that she was ready to quit for the day.  It was then that she saw Brendon's gaze flicker for the briefest instant toward one of the mirrors lining the far wall.  It was enough.  She took advantage of his momentary distraction and touched her button to the spot directly over his heart, and then smiled at him with a victorious glint in her eye.

Brendon looked at Ashleigh with a mixture of surprise and admiration.  “I knew I shouldn't have agreed to let you wear those breeches when we practice,” he said, grinning wickedly. 

Ashleigh was wearing a pair of cream-colored breeches, one of the four pairs he had given her for Christmas, so that her movements were not restricted or hampered by heavy yards of fabric.  She was well-aware that the sight of her softly rounded derrière reflected in the mirror had been the ultimate cause of Brendon's downfall.  “Well, you did tell me to utilize
any
available advantage,” Ashleigh replied cheekily.

“You are a minx,” Brendon responded good-naturedly.

They were distracted from their cheerful banter however, when the duchess swept into the ballroom a moment later.

“There you are, dearest,” Madeline said, as she made her way toward Ashleigh.  “Madame Olivier is ready to make the final adjustments to your costume.  Are the two of you finished?” she asked, looking back and forth between Brendon and Ashleigh.

“She is all yours, Grandmother,” Brendon replied as he touched his blade to his forehead, before bending in a perfectly executed swordsman's bow.  “Please take her away before she discovers yet another devious technique to humiliate me even further,” he commanded with a wink in Ashleigh's direction.

Madeline was already leading her out of the ballroom, but Ashleigh couldn't resist turning her head and wrinkling her nose at Brendon, who in turn chuckled aloud.

Ashleigh spent the next ninety minutes struggling to maintain her patience as the
modiste
and her assistants endeavored to make Ashleigh's costume for the New Year’s ball the most elegant creation ever designed.  She truly appreciated Madame Olivier's efforts, but she loathed the amount of time she was required to stand in one place while each nip and tuck was inspected for absolute perfection. 

However, if Madeline and Madame Olivier's comments were any indication, all of the time and effort spent on the gown would be well worth the end result.  The two older women emphatically declared that Ashleigh would be unrivaled at the masquerade, the unequivocal belle of the ball.  Ashleigh wasn’t nearly as confident, but she appreciated their enthusiasm.

Before she knew it, New Year’s Eve was upon them and Ashleigh stood in the center of her bedchamber garbed in the now completed gown, dressed as the infamous French queen, Marie Antoinette.  Her hair was piled high atop her head, arranged in artful curls and then covered with a thin layer of silky white powder intermixed with tiny golden flakes, which muted the fiery hue of her natural auburn-colored tresses without concealing the color completely.  Then, sprinkled throughout her curls were numerous diamond and emerald studded hairpins that reflected the light and added a touch of sparkle.  After finishing the elaborate coiffure, Annie had applied a light coating of face powder to her already flawless complexion, and then added just a touch of rogue to her lips and cheeks.  The final touch had been the placement of a black, heart-shaped beauty patch upon her upper right cheekbone, accentuating her delicate bone structure. 

Her gown was emerald green, and shot through with shimmering golden threads that also captured and reflected the light as she moved about the room.  The skirt was divided into two wide panniers that stood out stiffly on each side, while displaying an underskirt of delicate gold tissue.  The bodice was snug and the tight corset she wore pushed the tops of her breasts high above the square-cut neckline.  The gown had long tight sleeves that were puffed at the top, and then tapered down to fit tightly at her wrists.  Her shoes were high-heeled gold slippers and she wore sheer, white silk stockings which were embroidered with tiny gold fleur-de-leis.  She also wore a diamond and emerald necklace borrowed from Madeline around her neck, a complete circle of interwoven diamonds with one large pear-shaped emerald that rested in the valley of her breasts.  To complete the ensemble, she attached the diamond and emerald rose broach that Madeline had given her to her bodice.

At first, Ashleigh had worried that she wouldn’t be able to carry off the grandiose fashion of the earlier era.  However, when she looked in the mirror she could scarcely believe her eyes.  She looked as if she had stepped directly from one of the many aged canvases that lined the
Sethe
family portrait gallery.  The white powder that covered her hair and the thin dusting on her cheeks gave her an ethereal quality and the high swept hairstyle accentuated her striking profile.  Like the woman she portrayed, she had to admit that she did indeed look like a queen.  Although not vain by nature, Ashleigh wanted to look her absolute best that evening.  If she was going to be in the same room with Nicholas’ paramour, she needed all the confidence she could get.

Once she, Madeline and Brendon had all arrived in the downstairs foyer, Ashleigh was delighted to see that Brendon had chosen to don the costume of a seventeenth century pirate.  He looked incredibly dashing in his billowing, white silk shirt, tight black breeches and knee high, black leather boots.  He also wore a scabbard and jewel handled sword strapped to his left thigh and a wicked looking black eye patch covered his right eye.  She knew without a doubt that Brendon would leave a trail of dreamy-eyed, lovesick females in his wake before the evening was through.

Madeline however, had chosen not to wear a costume, declaring that she was much too old for such frivolous behavior, insisting that masquerades were intended for the younger set rather than for women of her advanced years.  Ashleigh thought that Madeline looked quite elegant in her royal purple gown of French watered silk and assured her that she scarcely looked a day over forty-five.  

 Once they had donned their winter cloaks, they made their way to the front drive and were soon comfortably seated in one of the
Sethe’s
luxurious coaches, embossed on each side with the
Sethe
ducal coat of arms, two gold lions, rearing up against a black and silver shield.  Due to the width of Ashleigh's skirts, she occupied the seat facing the rear of the coach, while Madeline and Brendon sat together on the opposite seat as they drove to the
Taryton
residence.  Nicholas had sent word earlier that he would be meeting them at the masquerade.  

When they arrived at the countess’ home, they were quickly bustled into the heated foyer and divested of their cloaks by a bevy of helpful servants before making their way toward the ballroom.  As they neared, the rippling waves of conversation and laughter grew louder, battling with the efforts of the musician’s instruments.

Entering through the archway of the brilliantly lit ballroom, Ashleigh was instantly dazzled by the vast array of brightly colored costumes and elaborate disguises that met her eye.  She saw knights in highly polished silver armor, medieval princesses, sorcerers, monarchs of past eras, mythical gods and goddesses, court jesters, highwaymen and dozens of other characters.  Almost everyone, aside from a handful of aged gentlemen and a few elderly matrons wore masks to disguise their features, some adorned with jewels, feathers, ribbons, and colored beads, while others were devoid of all decoration, simple dominos held in place with velvet ribbons.  Hers was made of delicate gold tissue to match her gown and anchored to a thin narrow rod wrapped in gold ribbon that she held in her hand.

Ashleigh hastily scanned the crowd for any sign of Nicholas, but she failed to spot him amongst the revelers.  She did see Lady
Taryton
however.  The Countess of
Dragmore
was garbed in the flowing white and silver Grecian robes of the goddess Venus, the filmy material clinging provocatively to her every curve.  The gown was fastened over one shoulder with a sparkling diamond broach, which left the other shoulder tantalizingly bare.  She wore delicate clusters of flowers in her hair and several more were pinned within the folds of her gown.  She looked incredibly beautiful and Ashleigh felt a moment of unease.  She didn't know how she was going to bear being in the home of the woman who might very well be Nicholas’ mistress, when she herself carried his child. 

As the dowager had chosen not to don a costume, they were recognized immediately and several people quickly made their way over to greet them, including their hostess.  Ashleigh managed to murmur a polite greeting to the countess, though inwardly she seethed.

Brendon was obviously a popular figure, for he was immediately surrounded by several of his friends and acquaintances as they made their way into the room.  Having been at sea for several months, it was obvious that the members of the
ton
were delighted to have him once again within their midst.  Before long, nearly a dozen women were flirting unabashedly with him, much to Ashleigh’s amusement and his obvious delight.  Unlike his older brother, Brendon clearly enjoyed the attention and he emanated a charm and exuberance that other people were naturally drawn to.