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The next morning after breakfast, I found Sarah Jane sitting at her writing desk. “I think I shall write to him,” she said softly to herself. “Or is that too bold?”
“Or is what too bold?”
“I...” Sarah Jane paused, and glanced about. Seeing that it was just the two of us she relaxed. “My writing to Tristan.”
Sarah Jane blushed as I teased her. “Do you know more than his first name?”
“No, I don’t,” Sarah Jane whispered.
I was disappointed. “Then it doesn’t matter if it’s too bold, how will the letter reach him?”
“I’ve met him before,” Sarah Jane said. “Surely I’ll run into him again. I’ll just keep the letter in my reticule.”
“Why didn’t you tell me that you had met him before?”
“I didn’t want to bring it up and cause you any distress.” Sarah Jane answered, and then added when she saw my expression, “It was dreadful seeing you brought in like that, wet and unconscious. I was scared Mouse, really scared.”
“What are you talking about?”
“When you nearly drowned in the creek Tristan was one of the two men that found you and brought you home.”
“I am sorry I caused your distress.” I gave my sister a hug. “So you really met Tristan before? Do you like him?”
Sarah Jane nodded as a delicate rosey hue tinted her cheeks. “I recognized his ring at the ball. He pretended to not know me until I pointed it out. It looks like a silver crown.” Sarah Jane smiled, and scooting over tapped the small bench she was sitting on. “Do sit with me, Mouse.”
“I think I shall.” I smiled taking a seat.
“Remember when we could both sit on this bench together and not feel like we were falling off?” Sarah Jane laughed.
“Yes, I do. Either the bench has shrunk, or we’ve grown.”
“I’d like to know more about the man that was with Tristan. I believe you said his name was George?”
“Yes, he introduced himself as George.”
“Tristan and George,” Sarah Jane whispered.
“Was the other man who rescued me named George by chance?” Could that be why the masked gentleman seemed familiar? I searched my memories, however faint.
“I don’t believe I heard his name, why?”
“I was just wondering. George spoke as if he had met me, yet if Tristan was the one that brought me home with his servant, who pulled me from the water? He had dark eyes and dark hair. I’m sure of that.”
Sarah Jane looked thoughtful. “You did say this George had dark eyes?”
“He did. Brown eyes, and nearly black hair.”
“How romantic!” Sarah Jane smiled and clasped her hands together.
“Sarah Jane,” I groaned.
“I must have been mistaken about the man who carried you being Tristan’s servant,” Sarah Jane said.
Which led me to believe that the darker haired man, the man who had saved me from drowning was George. And he had sought me out at the dance. After all, he did say we had met before.
***
Several letters arrived after the Masked Ball. Two were for Sarah Jane, from a secret admirer. One was a business parcel for Edward.
Not one word from George.
Nearly a month passed before we heard anything related to George. We were invited to stay at Moonspire.
"Do you suppose this invitation has anything to do with Sarah Jane's secret admirer?" James asked as he took aim and skipped a stone across the tranquil pond.
"I don't know," I replied. "I'm not sure. Why would the Marquis be writing anonymous love letters to Sarah Jane?"
"Sometimes Mouse, you are a little slow." James snorted as he tossed up a pebble and caught it.
He had my full attention.
"Enlighten me then," I retorted.
"I will," James promised. "Perhaps this Marquis has a son, who saw Sarah Jane from afar and is besotted with her."
I couldn't help it. I laughed.
"It is possible dear sister." James grinned at me.
"I suppose that is so. Yet I believe her admirer is Tristan."
"Perhaps Tristan is the Marquis’s son, the Earl of Moonspire."
"In that case, propriety would have insisted upon him being addressed as such."
"At a masked ball, where no one was supposed to know who was who?"
"I..." Well, my brother did have a point. Perhaps Tristan was the Marquis's son.
"It is precisely what our dear aunt is counting on," James added, finally tossing the pebble on the water. It skipped a few times before vanishing into its depths. James raised his voice in pitch and clasped his hands together. "Oh merciful heavens! To think our Sarah Jane has caught the eye of the Earl of Moonspire!"
"We don't know that." I was surprised with how sullen I sounded.
"So. Mouse, why do we have the honor of such an invitation?"
"Why, what do you mean?"
"It seems to me, that for a while after the ball you were watching for mail."
"I wasn't watching for the mail," I protested a bit too fast.
"Really now?" James replied.
"Yes, really." I turned and left him at the pond. He chuckled as I left.
Of course, he would see through me. Yes, I had been waiting for an invitation. I didn't know from whom it would come. So this couldn't be George's, could it? The Mysterious Marquis never used his name—that was part of the mystery. How he had managed to get the Crown to keep it off the record, one will never know, and gossip mongering about it had long ago ceased.
Life is full of mystery is it not? All we can do is keep moving and discovering. And it would not be long before some things became clear.