These Vicious Masks: A Swoon Novel(7)



The giant passed me with a great whoosh of air and padded down the hallway, the wood floor crackling as he disappeared around the corner. The corridor went silent. No drone of the orchestra, no pattering of raindrops, no explanation from Mr. Braddock. He simply glared past me, making sure the uninvited guest departed for good. What on earth happened? Whatever it was, I was getting my sister away from it.

“Rose, we must be going,” I said, slipping by Mr. Braddock. “The ball is almost over, and Mother will be searching for us.” I pulled my sister by two fingers back toward the ballroom, passing Mr. Braddock and the roiling energy emanating off him. I avoided all eye contact and any reflective wall hangings that might lead to it.

“Miss Rosamund, a word, please. My apologies for that man,” he said, following close. “I don’t want to bother you, but about your healing, your special power, really—”

My head snapped up. Her special power? “Mr. Braddock, that was much more than a single word,” I said. “And it is much too late. Good night.”

I pulled Rose along, but still the man stalked her, ignoring me entirely. “Please, this is important. Miss Rosamund, you have a rare gift—a miraculous power to heal—and I would be grateful for your assistance. I have a friend in London who is very sick—”

In a fury, I stopped and swung Rose behind me, putting myself between the two. “Rose, go find Mother. I will meet you in a moment.”

She pressed my shoulder with concern but made no protest. She headed down the hallway, and Mr. Braddock began to follow until I blocked his path, glaring at him.

“Mr. Braddock. My sister is a talented nurse. I don’t know whether you’re trying to mock or deceive her with this miraculous power nonsense, but I suggest you take your brooding act and odd fixations elsewhere. You and that man have obviously upset her—now leave Rose in peace.”

His eyes flashed fire, and I found myself thinking for the briefest moment that Mr. Braddock’s behavior might not be an act. He strained a smile. “Your . . . interest is most appreciated, but this matter doesn’t concern you.”

He attempted to brush by me, but I sidestepped with him and drew myself up, annoyed to see that he was one of the few men my height had little effect on.

“Unfortunately, you don’t get to decide that.”

“Miss Wyndham, I will speak to her, with or without your leave.”

“Of all the outrageous, presumptuous things to say—” But this time I was the one cut off as he gave a curt bow and turned, striding down the corridor toward the gardens and, I hoped, off a nearby cliff. Good riddance.

Exhausted from the whole horrible evening, I hurried back to find Rose before Robert could. Somehow, I managed to grab her, then hurried Mother and Father along to the carriage with no more than a hasty good-bye to a poor, perspiring Robert, who no doubt desired a tête-à-tête with his newly confirmed love.

During the ride home, I clutched Rose’s hand, considering the feasibility of never letting go, to keep her from danger, particularly the odious Mr. Braddock. I tried to put him out of my mind. He didn’t even deserve the thought. He will speak to her, he says! The nerve. I shouldn’t have even responded to him. A man that eager for attention needs to be avoided, ignored. He was sorely mistaken if he thought I would let my sister near his pretense and folly. While I contemplated murder, Mother listed off the evening’s many eligible men, “especially Mr. Braddock,” she fluted, eyes digging into me.

A hand squeeze and an inquisitive look from Rose brought my mistake with Robert back to mind. What a mess this evening had turned out to be. I gave her a halfhearted smile, and she nodded. We both knew there was much to discuss. After bidding good night to our parents, I changed into my nightgown and sneaked back downstairs like a recalcitrant child.

Rose entered the musty library moments after me, but before I could ask what the large man and Mr. Braddock had been about, she spoke with a melancholy sigh. “Oh, Evelyn! The poor man, Felix Cheval, just wanted my help!”

“The giant?”

“He was looking for me! Apparently, talk of my nursing reached him all the way in London,” she said, blushing and pacing about the room. I couldn’t help but feel a rush of pride for my talented sister. “He has a sick sister in town. He has spoken to many doctors and is quite desperate.”

“Enough to sneak into a ball, it seems. But how did Mr. Braddock get involved? They certainly seemed to know each other.”

Rose nodded. “Indeed. Mr. Cheval found me as I paused from dancing, and asked to speak to me somewhere quieter. We were having a perfectly comfortable conversation until Mr. Braddock stormed in and ordered him out of the house, as you heard. They must have some kind of acquaintance.”

Given that they seemed to be at odds with each other, I briefly found myself trying to choose a side. Mr. Cheval was simply an exceptionally large man with a sick sister, while Mr. Braddock, on the other hand, was rude, overbearing, and maddening. But they’d both been doing strange things throughout the evening. I shook away the thoughts. What mattered was Rose’s peace of mind.

“You aren’t responsible for anything,” I assured her, settling into the nearby window seat. “There are plenty of other doctors out there for the case. It’s not as if you’re actively hurting his sister.”

“But what if I am the only one who can help? And someone has to tell this girl, as she lies there dying, that the person who might have saved her could not make it because she has a family’s reputation to uphold?”

Zekas, Kelly & Shank's Books