Chapter 12

The grand ballroom at Hollystone Hall was filled with all manner of costumes. From kings and queens, to pirates and bar wenches, to Roman gladiators and their ladies, to gods and their goddesses, there was no end to the costumes that people wore to the gathering. A young lady scantily dressed as a Greek goddess flitted across the room to accost a gentleman dressed as a pirate. She had been chasing after several gentlemen for the past two days. Her behavior was deplorable in her quest to whatever ends only the young woman knew for sure. Nicholas had recently learned from his niece Celia that she was Lord de Courtenay’s younger sister.

For two days, he had been in a conundrum he was unsure how to fix. Christmas dinner had been torture like none he had ever felt before when he had to sit idly by while watching Grace and the marquis flirt with one another over their meal. When they had exchanged glasses, Nicholas had to suppress the urge to jump across the table and pull the two of them apart. What was she doing making a spectacle of herself? She was a married woman after all, and why did he continue to care what she did whenever she appeared in the room? Perhaps such behavior ran in the family.

He became aware that de Courtenay’s sister was about to get into trouble when she made her way across the room to accost her next victims. Two tall, fair-haired men, un-costumed except one wore a white mask and the other a black, were deep in conversation when she interrupted them. One of the gentlemen casually leaned against a pillar as they listened to whatever she was saying. If it were her ploy to pursue them, Nicholas could not say, but he knew the tables turned quite suddenly on the unsuspecting young woman when both men bent to whisper in each of her ears. Nicholas saw the situation for what it was and knew this would not end well.

It was no concern to him what happened, or so Nicholas told himself, but when he watched the trio move to a secluded corner of the room, he was just about to intervene on the young woman’s behalf. Before he reached them, the air rushed from his lungs, and he knew Grace was near. He turned around in the direction of the entryway, and there she was dressed like the goddess Diana, and looking every bit the part of the divine creature he knew her to be. At least she was not in some shocking attire that exposed more of her body, like the statue he had seen in the gardens of Hollystone or like the scandalous Miss de Courtenay.

Nicholas followed Grace’s movements as she entered the ballroom. Her gown flowed behind her, and she had a small bow slung over her shoulder, just large enough to confirm her character. Sandals adorned her feet and peeked from the edges of her gown when she walked, no, glided into the room. Surely this woman was a gift from heaven itself as she stepped among God’s angels and graced mere mortals with her presence here on earth.

Grace took a glass of wine from a servant who passed by. She surveyed the room, a small smile lighting her face when she observed her sister and the two gentlemen in the corner. Nicholas frowned. Such a reaction was not what he expected, nor was Grace’s gesture of slightly raising her glass in a silent toast to the men after her sister bolted from the room, clearly upset.

With a nod, she ended her silent acknowledgement of the pair and strolled in the direction of her husband. Nicholas frowned. Was he mistaken when he guessed the gentleman to be dressed as Apollo? Portraying a brother and sister was a strange choice for a husband and wife. Grace tugged on her husband’s attire until he leaned down so she could whisper in his ear. The couple then proceeded to have cross words with one another before Lord de Courtenay fled the room.

“Lady de Courtenay’s brother certainly has his hands full keeping their foolish little sister out of trouble,” stated a gentleman who was walking behind Nicholas.

He turned slightly at the mention of Grace’s name and saw the two men in the white and the black masks. They were looking at the door through which Grace’s husband had just left the room.

“Lord de Courtenay may need to lock Miss de Courtenay in her room for the remainder of their stay lest the girl do something even more asinine than pursuing the pair of us,” the other responded with a groan. “We may have just been playing a game to teach the young lady to be careful what she offers and to whom, but other men of our acquaintance would have no issue compromising her and leaving her ruined. I tell you, Gren, I am tired of all these debutantes constantly scheming to be the next duchess. My reputation is meant to scare them off!”

“I believe we made our point, Aldridge.”

Aldridge chuckled. “Indeed. I doubt she will continue throwing herself at us.”

Nicholas watched their retreating backs before returning his attention toward Grace, who was now speaking with his niece, Elinor. Brother? What the bloody hell? For the love of God, could he have been so mistaken about the lady?

When Elinor excused herself and made her way to her mother’s side, Nicholas went to her. Surely she would be able to put an end to this mystery.

“I do not know why I chose to be Queen Elizabeth, Mother. However did they manage with these contraptions underneath their skirts? I swear I am constantly in fear I will knock over a table every time I turn.”

“May I have a moment of your time, Elinor?” Nicholas quietly interrupted whatever Caroline was about to answer. He took his niece’s elbow and escorted her to a nearby alcove where they would not be overheard.

Elinor hurried to keep up with his pace. “I hardly have more than a few minutes, Uncle. I am still ensuring the servants have everything under control for the party tonight.”

Nicholas took off his mask and ran a hand through his hair. “I am sure the Duchess of Haverford’s servants are more than capable of taking care of events without the help of your planning committee.”

Elinor peered at him with narrowed brows. “I can see you are in a foul mood again. I shall tell Mother on you, and then you shall never hear the end of her lecture that you are not enjoying yourself.”

“Just do not tell your father. I still am not sure he will forgive me when he finds out that I have let his daughters basically run amuck in the last two weeks while I have been otherwise…distracted.”

“She is lovely, is she not?”

“Who?” Nicholas asked, afraid that his niece would so easily read him.

Elinor laughed, confirming his fears. “Why, Lady de Courtenay, of course. Who else would we be speaking about? Honestly, Uncle Nicholas, only a fool would not know you have come to care for her the way you watch her every move.”

“Eh gads, I am a fool.” Nicholas looked upon his niece. “Tell me what you know, and be quick about it.”

She attempted to sit down on a chair and remain in a lady-like position but appeared far from comfortable with the costume she wore. “Blasted dress. It looks like I shall be standing on my feet all evening long,” she complained.

“Elinor…”

She gave him a sly smile. “What do you wish to know?”

“You are going to make me say it aloud, are you not?”

“What do you think?” she teased.

“Very well,” he fumed. “Is she married or not?”

Elinor took out her fan and began to wave it furiously across her face. “My, it is hot in here.”

“Elinor, this is not time to make fun of your uncle,” he warned.

“Oh, very well. What were you asking?” She feigned a look of complete absentmindedness.

“Grace, Lady de Courtenay,” he hissed. “Is she or is she not married?

Elinor snapped her fan shut. “Whatever gave you the idea the lady was married in the first place, Uncle?”

“I suppose being introduced to her husband may have had something to do with it,” he answered with clenched teeth. “And the fact she is not known as Lady Grace.”

“Her husband? Adrian, Lord de Courtenay?”

“Is there another that goes by that name?” he mocked. “Lady de Courtenay was the one who introduced us.”

Elinor looked puzzled. “She introduced her brother to you as her husband? How singular. Making a joke of such an important matter is completely out of her character. Surely you are mistaken?”

“I am telling you she introduced him as Lord de Courtenay…”

“And?” Elinor prodded.

Nicholas plopped down upon the chair, reviewing their past conversation. He had not stuck around long enough to listen to the remainder of her introduction. She was not married. “…and your uncle is a complete and total idiot.”

“I see. Well, I confess my father may have previously claimed such a description when he refers to you. Lady de Courtenay was married to her second cousin, who held the earldom. He died only a short time after they had wed. The gentleman you see here at Hollystone is her younger brother, who inherited the title since his sister did not produce an heir.”

Bloody hell. Who named so many claimants to a title by the same name! No wonder he had been confused. Though the little sister’s name should have been a clue. If Lord de Courtenay’s father had been earl, she would be Lady Miranda, not Miss. He had made a hash of things. “How will I ever make amends to her?”

“There is nothing you can do about what happened in the past other than to set the matter straight with the lady. You do care for her, do you not?”

He peered at his niece before setting the mask back upon his face. “Of course I do, but we have quarreled. I highly doubt the woman will have anything more to do with me. Whatever am I to do?”

Elinor gave him a hug. “I suggest you go and find your lady. I believe your apology will require a fair amount of groveling to get back in her good graces. Do a good job of it, Uncle Nicholas. Grace is a lovely lady and would be a wonderful addition to our family.”

Groveling. Yes, he would indeed need to grovel and beg her forgiveness, at her feet if necessary. He began to pray in earnest that she would forgive him for thinking the worst of her.