Page 101 of A Single Thread of Moonlight

Matilda whisked away, a smile on her face that I attributed to the handsome footman I had heard her mention.

When the knock finally came, I felt a nervous flutter in my stomach. This was it.

I opened the door and found that the dowager countess was not alone. Nick leaned negligently against the door frame, frighteningly beautiful in a dark evening suit.

When he saw me, however, he moved away from the door in an involuntary action and his eyes widened. He opened his mouth, as though to speak, but no words came out.

The dowager countess chuckled and rubbed her hands together. “My grandson, rendered speechless at last.”

Nick, visibly gathering his wits, cleared his throat. “I can’t disagree,” he said. “You look…” He trailed off here, but the look in his eyes made it clear that there was a compliment in the silence.

“Yes, yes.” His grandmother batted her hand at him. “The girl is a beauty all right, but if we don’t get to the ball then no one else will be able to comment on it. A dress like that shouldn’t be shut up here.” She began to move down the corridor, Nick and I following. “These things start later and later nowadays,” she grumbled. “I’ve been twiddling my thumbs in my room for an hour just to make sure that we arrived late enough to make a splash.”

Nick offered me his arm and I took it. “I convinced my grandmother to let me come and escort you both,” he said in a low voice, while the dowager countess continued her tirade against ballroom etiquette. “How are you feeling?”

“Nervous,” I admitted.

“You know that you don’t have to do this,” Nick replied. “I would understand if it was too much.”

I shook my head. “We’ve come so far.” I managed a smile. “I’m looking forward to seeing Stefan squirm.”

“Ghoul,” Nick laughed.

“If I’m a ghoul, then you’re a ghoul.”

“Very true.”

“What are you two wittering about?” The dowager countess turned on us, at the top of the stairs, her hands on her hips. “I hope the pair of you are going to behave yourselves at this party. Falling in rivers, haring around on horseback, secret shooting contests… Oh, yes.” She fixed us with a quelling look as Nick and I stood, our mouths open in shock. “There’s not a lot that gets past me.”

“Let’s hope there are a few things,” Nick muttered.

“I’m not hard of hearing either,” she said sharply, before turning to descend the stairs.

Downstairs, Helena had outdone herself. The house looked spectacular, primped and polished and lit by hundreds if not thousands of candles, softly flickering, giving the place the hazy air of stepping into a dream. Coming through to the ballroom was like entering a fairy bower, greenery twisted across the ceiling, and flowers hung in long ropes above our heads. The smell was heady – roses and something fresh, sweet and green. An enormous orchestra played on a stage suspended on a platform, level with the balcony that ran around the room, where guests congregated for a bird’s eye view of the festivities.

The room thronged with people, all in dazzling finery. The long windows had been flung open, allowing a gentle breeze to enter, and there were waiting staff circulating with wide silver trays laden with champagne saucers, or tiny delicacies. I saw Nick’s gaze lock wistfully on to a tray full of cherry tarts.

Heads turned as we entered the room. I kept my chin high, taking small, even steps. People fell away from us. I think it was the dress – Matilda was right, it had some magic in it.

Stefan appeared, fairy-tale handsome in a formal military suit that must have been part of the royal livery. A row of medals shone on his chest. The smile on his face as he looked at me was smugly possessive. He reached out his hand and I placed my own on top.

In a parody of our first meeting he swept me straight on to the dance floor and into a waltz.

“You are so beautiful,” he said, his breath hot against my ear. “A true princess.”

We danced and I felt like a tiny doll, spinning inside a jewellery box.

This time Stefan didn’t have to stick to the rules. Tonight we were to announce our engagement and so he could monopolize me as much as he wished. My hand was clamped to his arm, and he steered me around the room, showing me off. I smiled graciously, accepting the compliments strewn at me like flowers at my feet.

The night wore on, and I saw Helena and Agatha watching me. Agatha, beautiful in pale pink, seemed to realize that the game was over. The look she treated me to was one of undisguised hatred. I had stolen something from her. I wondered if she would ever understand what I had actually saved her from.

Helena was harder to read.

“My dear, how lovely you look,” she said, while Stefan stood tall and proud beside me. “Such a handsome pair.”

I saw her glance linger on the silver pin in my hair, the tightening around her lips, the flare in her eyes of something knowing and dangerous.

I didn’t care. I wanted her to know. Let her stand there, certain of who I was and knowing that she couldn’t touch me. I would be dealing with her soon enough.