Page 12 of The Wrong Royal
She beamed at me with tears shimmering in her eyes. “Emilie, you look absolutely enchanting. Tonight, you’re destined to be the belle of the ball.”
I climbed into the waiting car, nervous as hell. The air was thick with anticipation as I made my way to the opulent mansion where the masquerade ball was to be held. The grandeur of the house was awe inspiring, its stately columns and lavish gardens making it a fitting backdrop for an event of such significance. I had heard stories about the parties at Lady Hamilton’s.
As I entered the foyer, the chandeliers cast a warm, golden glow that bathed the surroundings in a soft, ethereal light. It was incredible. I imagined our palace would have looked like this decades ago. I was quickly escorted upstairs via a servants’ staircase. I was anxious to see the ballroom, but it was part of the surprise. I joined the other ladies, each dressed in their own exquisite gowns and adorned with masks that concealed their identities. We exchanged nervous smiles and whispered words of encouragement, sharing in the excitement and trepidation that hung in the air.
I didn’t know many of them. My sister was the one that socialized with the members of the society. I usually hung back. There were a few familiar faces, but not many. I couldn’t actually see faces, but I knew the names.
Lady Hamilton, the esteemed hostess of the evening, greeted us with regal grace. Her presence commanded respect, and her eyes held a knowing glint as she welcomed us. She’d been the host of the Wed season for as long as I could remember. She loved doing it.
“Ladies, welcome to the masquerade ball,” Lady Hamilton announced, her voice carrying through the huge sitting room. “Tonight, you will have the opportunity to meet your selected matches. I will expect good manners and decorum. Try to relax and enjoy your debut into Wed season. It’s a magical time that you will look back on and remember with fondness. Please follow me and form a line.”
I got in line, naturally gravitating toward the back. All the other women were giddy with excitement. They were thrilled to be doing this. I wished I could be anywhere other than where I was. Once I descended the staircase, life would change. The excited chattering of the other ladies did little to drown out the sound of the orchestra below. I could hear the murmur of masculine voices below. It was a sea of men down there and we were going to waltz down the staircase in front of them. I hated this whole thing.
“Your match will be waiting at the bottom of the staircase to take your hand and lead you to your table. Do not dawdle. We need to keep the process moving. Are there any questions?”
Murmurs and head shaking followed. Lady Hamilton seemed satisfied. “Very good.”
Lady Hamilton stood at the edge of the grand staircase with a microphone in her hand. The moment had arrived, and I stood in line with a group of elegantly dressed ladies, each of us shrouded in the mystery of our masks, ready to descend the grand staircase into an uncertain future. The grandeur of the mansion, with its towering columns and opulent decor, felt like a scene from my favorite movie, “The Phantom of the Opera.”
While I stood, waiting for whatever it was we were waiting for, I couldn’t help but mutter angrily under my breath about the circumstances that had brought me here. My sister was the one expected to fulfill her duty to our family and attend this masquerade ball, not me. Nora was prepared for this, not me. She loved ballgowns and pomp and circumstance. She liked being in the spotlight.
“Nora, this was supposed to be your destiny, not mine,” I whispered angrily.
But there was no turning back now. The line of ladies moved forward, step by step. I listened as names were called out, followed by the orchestra playing as they walked down the staircase and into the abyss below. I couldn’t see the ballroom from where I stood, but I could feel the energy. With every name called, I inched closer to the spot at the top of the stairs that was marked with a small X. That was where we would stand as our name was read. Everyone below would ogle us.
Soon it was my turn to descend the majestic staircase. I took a deep breath, gathering my resolve, and began the descent, the anticipation in the air thick enough to cut with a knife.
I took each step carefully and didn’t dare look toward the bottom of the stairs where I knew my match would be waiting to take my hand. If I looked at him, I would panic, trip, and fall ass over teakettle down the stairs.
As I descended the staircase, I could feel eyes on me. The weight of the mask on my face made my neck ache. The whispering below felt like it was directed toward me, even though I knew it wasn’t. My heart was pounding in my chest, and my palms were slick with sweat.
This is no way to fall in love.
7
THEO
Ipulled up my pants and quickly buttoned them. I found myself feeling shaky. Nerves were making me just a little nauseated. I tucked the crisp white shirt into my pants and stepped into my bedroom, moving on autopilot.
Jack was attacking my tuxedo jacket with a lint brush. I smiled and shook my head. “I think you’ve got it. I don’t know what you were going after, but you got it.”
“That’s not funny. I will not be the manservant that sends his man into what is easily one of the most important events in your life with lint clinging to his shoulders.”
I chuckled slightly and took the jacket. I put it on, admiring the way the tuxedo fit snugly on my body. Jack had always been a perfectionist, but I appreciated his attention to detail. It was one of the reasons I had hired him in the first place. The tailor had also done an amazing job.
“I appreciate your dedication to making sure I look my best.” I clapped him on the shoulder.
Clearly pleased, he stepped up with the bowtie and quickly tied it before putting on the cuff links with the Ashford family crest on them.
As I looked at myself in the mirror, I felt a twinge of excitement mixed with anxiety. You only got one chance to make a good first impression. The mask I would be wearing for the masquerade theme was a bit of a hindrance.
I sat down to put on my shoes, thinking of conversation starters I would use.
“Don’t be nervous,” Jack said. “It’s going to be fine. She’s going to find she’s very lucky to have been matched with you.”
“Let’s hope,” I muttered.
“It’s going to be fine.”