Page 14 of A Single Thread of Moonlight

We twirled around the room, and I had only a confused impression of colourful gowns like wild paint strokes daubed around me, high, ornate ceilings, and the fractured light from an enormous chandelier strung with jewels. The walls were covered in paintings framed in heavy gold, and the long windows were draped with rich crimson velvet, the same colour as the rose in my partner’s lapel.

It was stiflingly warm, and there must have been at least three hundred people in here. Somewhere among them was Helena. I wanted to find her. Here, and on my own terms, I finally had the opportunity to talk to her face to face. If I wanted to keep Agatha’s engagement from going forward then I needed more information … and perhaps the man with his arm around my waist could help with that too.

“You dance beautifully,” he said, smiling down at me.

“Thank you, Your Highness,” I replied. “I think on this occasion I owe my success to my partner.”

The prince laughed and shook his head. “Tell me, what is the point of a masked ball, if you know at once who I am?”

“I’m afraid it was quite obvious,” I said apologetically. “All eyes are on you, you know.”

This was true. There may have been other couples dancing around us, but it was as though the prince was illuminated, the crowds unable to keep from staring.

“I think I bear only half the responsibility for their interest.”

“A very pretty compliment,” I said approvingly.

He laughed again, a deep, carefree laugh, as if laughing came easily to him. “May I have the pleasure of knowing who I am sharing a dance with?” he asked.

I smiled at him. “I don’t think so, Your Highness. After all, I may still take advantage of the mystery that a masked ball can provide.”

“Very true,” he sighed. “At least one of us should enjoy the benefits.”

“Oh, I intend to.” I grinned.

The music ended then, and there was a light smattering of applause, but the prince didn’t stop. Instead he kept hold of my hand, immediately spinning me into the next dance, the orchestra leaping to keep up with him. Two dances in a row … I felt the interest in the room quicken, like a piece of kindling catching light.

“A second waltz?” I raised my eyebrows. “It’s not the done thing.” Even I knew that.

The prince’s grin only widened. “And I think such rules are made to be broken.”

There was no ignoring the hum of gossip now, I heard it buzzing all around us, the ballroom transformed to a furious beehive, and the prince and I caught at the centre. It seemed as though the other couples on the dance floor had fallen back, making more space for us as the prince turned me faster and faster. It was exhilarating, as the music spiralled around us, building to a crescendo. We didn’t talk, but he held my gaze for several long, crackling moments.

He spun me one final time, and the music ended. Then he bowed over my hand, holding it tightly in his own.

“I am reluctant to let such a charming partner escape me,” he murmured.

“I do not think even you dare risk a third dance.” I smiled, and then, seeing the words land as a challenge that he was all too inclined to accept, I added hastily, “Perhaps we will meet again.”

“I hope so. And then I shall uncover your secret identity, mysterious lady.”

The words cut too close for comfort and I made my curtsey and left, but not before directing another flirtatious smile at the prince – after all, if he was looking for me then he would be too busy to propose to Agatha. It seemed that another opportunity had fallen in my lap – this time in the form of a handsome prince. This evening truly was a fairy tale.

The ball was spread over three rooms: the enormous ballroom, a card room where many of the gentlemen and several of the ladies would gamble with one another’s fortunes, and a dining room, where refreshments were served, which was where I was headed. It was hot and I was thirsty for a cool glass of lemonade; besides, going in search of a drink also gave me a sense of purpose that I desperately needed.

Despite leaving the prince behind, many eyes continued to follow me from behind their masks. My entrance, I supposed, had not been what one might call subtle.

I turned the last few minutes over in my mind, The prince had seemed charming – and willing to be charmed. Perhaps matters with Agatha were not as far along as Helena hoped. I thought about this as I made my way towards a long table covered in clean white linen and helped myself to a glass of lemonade. Unfortunately, it was almost as warm as the room, and I grimaced as I took a sip.

“Horrible, isn’t it?” a bright voice asked from beside me. I turned to find a small woman in a purple silk mask and a dress that I recognized well. It was Nicholas Wynter’s cousin, Teresa, and she was beaming up at me.

My pulse stuttered, and I was gladder than ever for the mask that I wore.

“It’s a little … warm,” I agreed.

“I know, I know, but then you don’t come to Devonshire House for the refreshments, do you?”

“What do you come for?” I asked.