The Season(53)

sixteen

I don’t think I’ve ever seen so many people in one room! My God! The entire ton must be here!” Vivi exclaimed, unable to tear her gaze from the sea of people below.

Vivi, Ella, and Alex stood on the upper level of Worthington House, looking down on the ballroom. They were shielded in an alcove on the second floor as they considered the mass of people who were here for the Worthington Ball. Each year, the duke and duchess hosted the grandest and most legendary ball of the season. No one who received an invitation missed the opportunity to attend.

Alex commented acerbically, “I think my mother may very well have invited the entire ton.”

She was watching the lady in question as she greeted the never-ending stream of guests pouring into the enormous ballroom. The room sat empty much of the year until mid-April, when its curtains were opened and the dustcloths were removed from its furniture for a thorough inspection in preparation for this night. Then, for weeks, servants shined the dozens of crystal chandeliers, polished the expansive oak and mahogany floor with beeswax, and washed the floor-to-ceiling windows to ensure that everything would be perfect for this evening.

And perfect it was. Thousands of candles were lit in the enormous candelabras hanging from the ceiling and standing around the room, giving the entire space a magical, golden glow. The orchestra was placed at the top of the room, farthest away from the entrance, obscured by shrubbery that had been brought into the room specifically to create the illusion of invisibility. Off the main chamber, directly underneath the girls, were multiple antechambers, each outfitted for a different purpose: a refreshment room complete with a spread of lemonade, wine, biscuits, and coffee; a supper room that would be opened midway through the ball; a card room for elderly guests to rest and play whist while keeping out a watchful eye for any juicy gossip; a men’s smoking room; and a ladies’ salon, offering a space to which ladies could escape in the case of damage to their elaborate gowns. Her mother had thought of everything, and that attention to detail was what set this event apart from the others of the season.

“It is quite a stunning sight,” Ella pointed out. “How many people do you think are here?”

Alex replied distractedly, “Between five and six hundred, I think.” She took a deep breath, as if preparing for battle, and turned to her friends. “Although there are three less than there should be, I venture to say. While I’d much rather stay up here and watch the whole event from afar, I have a feeling that someone will come looking for us if we don’t make an appearance soon.”

“Agreed.” Vivi looked at her friends and added, “And what a stunning appearance we shall make!”

She was right, of course. With the help of the remarkable Eliza, the three had dressed and applied their cosmetics to perfection. They were attired in gowns that had been made by Madame Fernaud for this particular event. Alex imagined they made a stunning trio. Vivi wore a gorgeous gold damask silk with a high Empire waist and fitted sleeves that accentuated her dark features and her already long, reedlike form. The color was certain to be the envy of every woman present, because it was such a difficult color to wear and yet it seemed as if it were created specifically for Vivian.

Ella, in contrast, was wearing a pale pink georgette with a wide, plunging neckline that both highlighted her lovely hourglass figure and underscored Madame Fernaud’s distinct nod to her own French heritage. The pink fabric, the color of the palest of seashells, moved like gossamer and perfectly complemented Ella’s fair coloring—which was already the envy of every female member of the peerage.

Alex’s gown rounded out the trio, an ice-blue satin shot through with silver thread that shimmered in the light as though it were made of droplets of water just on the verge of freezing. It was a dress to be marveled at—her mother had ensured as much, claiming that the Worthington Ball was precisely where she expected Alex to ensnare her future husband. At the time, Alex had been too deeply engrossed in her third reading of Pride and Prejudice to care at all about the dress, but now, as she was thinking about impressing Blackmoor, she wanted to kiss her mother for making such remarkable decisions regarding the construction of the beautiful garment.

As they descended the center stairway of Worthington House, noticing clusters of guests turning to watch their entrance, Vivi turned to her friends with a brilliant smile and spoke through her teeth, “I simply do not understand the appeal of the turban. Lady Barrington looks as if a feather pillow has attached itself to her head.”

Unable to miss the headwear in question, Alex adopted the same method of conversation and replied, “Indeed. Although considering the enormous peacock feather protruding from the thing, it appears as though there may be some kind of exotic bird trapped under there.”

“Should we attempt a rescue?” Ella asked casually, sending all three girls into bright laughter.

As they reached the ground floor, Alex leaned toward Ella and spoke just loudly enough for her friend to hear, “Do try not to let your overactive imagination whisk you into the gardens tonight.”

Ella flashed a bright smile and replied teasingly, “Certainly not! Although I was thinking that the strange conversation I overheard the other night might well have had something to do with the excitement with Blackmoor.” She paused, then continued with a laugh, “Well…the earlier excitement with Blackmoor, at least.”

Alex laughed again. “No such thing as a coincidence in your mind, is there?”