Within Temptation©
Chapter Two: Couldn't Be Happier
By Genevieve Lee
--
Look what we've got:
a fairy-tale plot.
Our very own happy ending,
where we couldn't be happier.
Thank Goodness, Wicked the musical
--
The Johnson Family
Requests the pleasure of your company
At a ball in honor of the engagement of
Sir George Johnson
And his fiancée Catherine Michaels
On the evening of Friday
The thirteenth of April
At seven o'clock at the following address:
5742 Spruce Street
In the city of London
Costumes are required
--
Audrey
I tossed the invitation down on the small table next to me and eyed my mother carefully. "Please Mama, do not make me go. I have barley returned from France. Plus, Miss Michaels and I have never gotten along." I leaned back against the chaise I was on and gave a light sigh, blowing the wispy ends of my hair away from my face.
"It would be taken as a very serious slight if we were not there. You know your father is rather good business friends with Sir George's father."
"Yes I know," I responded dryly as I twisted a piece of my golden hair round and round my finger. It was a disgusting habit I had picked up on during the long carriage rides on my trip to Paris. I needed to stop, and I would. Tomorrow. "I suppose I will go, only for the sake of being seen though, mind you. Please do not parade every eligible man in front of me," I said, speaking slowly as if that would help me get my point across, although as I spoke I knew I would be dancing with every cousin, every friend's brother, or with young widowed fathers.
"Audrey, your season is beginning in only a month's time. It is time to be considering a husband."
"Considering, Mother. I am not obligated to do any such until my debut. I will think of no man seriously until I wear ostrich feathers in my hair with a beautiful gown of white and purple silk, and not until the moment I curtsey before the queen," I informed her matter-of-factly as I slipped the invitation into my hand again and gazed at the time it begun. My voice left no opportunity for any more discussion on the matter. "Seven o'clock. Yes, it is an early ball and we shall be able to leave before eleven so that I may sleep in my own bed." I read the last line and raised an eyebrow. "Costumes required? Why mother, what ever did you have in mind for such a thing on short notice?"
She hesitated, and I rolled my eyes skyward.
"It's no matter. I have had a costume in my head ever since I visited the Moulin Rouge in Paris."
I looked up expectantly at my mother as I saw all the color drain from her face. "Oh dear Audrey, please tell me you did not visit that awful place!"
I grinned as I tossed the invitation carelessly aside as an evil glint filled my eyes. "Oh yes Mother, and it is not such an awful place. The Can-Can is quite the interesting dance."
My mother closed her eyes and raised her hands up as in prayer before crossing herself and hooking me with her icy stares. "Audrey, please do not mention such a thing at the ball or anytime else."
"I shan't, though I do not see what the huge deal is. It is considered a form of art, Mama. Maybe one day I will take you and you can change your opinion on it. Now," I said folding my hands delicately into my lap, "I will take care of my costume. I was thinking perhaps a shepherdess?" I questioned innocently, to which my mother grinned in reply.
"That sounds like a fine choice. Why don't you take your sister with you and you can get a costume together?"
I nodded. "Of course I shall take Rachel." I had never minded my younger sister.
"Don't forget Sarah," she added, referring to my personal maid. Catching my unhappy expression, she said, "You are not to leave without a chaperone. You know that."
I rolled my eyes as I stood. "I thought perhaps you would admit I had grown up in my time in France."
"You are still only seventeen years old, may I remind you. Still considered a girl until your coming out."
"I may be seventeen now, but next week I will be eighteen. Then my life will finally begin." I gave a light sigh. "Eighteen, what a splendid age," I purred as I walked from the room, images of tonight's ball in my mind. I had been gone for almost a month and I had to make sure the other girls my age hadn't forgotten their place: which was below me.
I quickly found my younger sister, Rachel, and sent for my maid, Sarah, who would be our chaperone. We were quickly loaded into the carriage and sent rattling down the street towards the shops.
--
Of course I wasn't a shepherdess. Such a costume was too safe, especially for a girl who had just returned from Paris. As my mother had not accompanied us on our trips to the shops, I easily purchased my costume, while helping Rachel buy hers, which, ironically, was a shepherdess. At least my mother would be satisfied with one of our costumes.
As soon as I returned home, I hurried to my room with my purchases, snapping at my maid to hurry so she could help me dress. Once she was in the room, I quickly shimmied out of the mauve dress I had slipped into earlier that day before ordering Sarah to fasten my corset.
I gasped at a brutal tug before turning to look at myself in the mirror. I was not quite satisfied with what I saw. "Tighter," I ordered, turning back to her. She did as she was told with no protest, as was usually her nature, as it should be. She was my personal maid after all. Hired to help me get ready and keep my living space clean, not to share her opinion with me everywhere I turned. I had had a maid of that nature once, who had the nerve to call me a hussy who was letting boys "in my knickers without being married" I think were her exact words. I turned her out into the streets within the next hour.
The accusation was false, of course. Yes, I had occasionally snuck into coatrooms with boys to test their kissing expertise, most of which were not satisfactory, but I had never let a boy have me that way. My virtue was far more important to me than to let it go so easily, something I was saving for that boy.
My parents and I had agreed I would not have an arranged marriage long ago. I wanted love, something I knew my parents did not have. True, they did not hate each other, but they were a team in the very most. They did what they needed to do to raise their family, keep the household running, and of course keep our appearances as white and crisp as a pillowcase. My older sister, Jacqueline, was the one who upheld these standards with the most seriousness. She was exactly what my parents wanted me to be even though she was only a year older.
The truth was I saw Jackie sneaking out practically every night to be with the stable boy. I think she rather fancied him, and if not for her class, would may even marry the boy. She kept up her prim and proper façade as to not arouse suspicions about her secret affair. She had actually debuted last year and had yet to marry, which was quite the small embarrassment for our family. Not that she hadn't been proposed to, because in reality she had been, many times, but
none seemed good enough for her. Yet she was always with a boy in a place where horses slept. I was quite sure Jackie would always be a mystery to me.
I knew I would never marry for reasons benefiting my parents or his, but for love. Not that I would marry out of my class, of course. The idea alone was quite absurd. Not only would my parents disown me, but I also had no desire in leaving the wealth and comfort in which I lived in now. In fact, I had my eyes set upon a certain someone…
His name was James Hollingsworth and he was everything I could ever want. He was of my class, obviously, and very handsome. I have fancied him ever since we were children, and he seemed to return it, more so than me. I happen to know that his father wants to someday run for Parliament, and in order for that to happen, he must have a good family image. I have heard more than once that he is expecting James to settle down within the next few months. Perhaps, just perhaps, I would be the woman he chose. And if that wasn't the case, I would make life for anyone else he chose a living hell.
So, that was why that night had to go perfectly. I had been gone for over month visiting family in Paris and it was time to establish my place again. And what better way to do it than with an eye-catching costume? I easily secured a costume that was of my preference rather than my mother's. I knew she was going to faint at the sight of me in it: the sight of me as a Can-Can dancer.
But the costume was tasteful, let me assure you. It's nothing like you probably have envisioned in your mind right now. I wore a plain black gown that reached the floor and had a small train in the back. The bodice hugged me quite tightly, showing off my womanly curves. The top was a square cut and showed only the bare minimum décolletage, but it was enough to gain the attention of every man in the room. Keeping the attention of men was not a very difficult task for me.
The challenging part of the costume was finding a corset that applied to my needs. As most know, corsets are to be bound underneath the woman's gown, but not the one I had in mind. You see, I had fastened my real corset tightly so that when I added the extra one; it would not make me look any larger. This corset that I had fastened over my extravagant silk gown was a deep coral color, with black beads and ribbon running off of every side of it. The reddish color matched the ribbons in my hair, and the black pearls that were fastened into different sections of the curly tendrils.
Sarah had then applied dark makeup around my eyes, making their icy blue depths look smoldering. My already rosy lips were painted an extreme red, and finally when I pulled back to look at my reflection, I was satisfied.
I dismissed Sarah and checked my reflection once more before going into the hallway to meet my fourteen-year-old sister, who eyed me worriedly.
"Mother is not going to like that."
I grinned, glowing at the compliment. "Exactly," I droned as I looped my arm through hers and descended down the stairs where my mother would be waiting.
Rachel giggled. "Oh, Audrey! Won't Mother be cross with you?"
I gave a playful roll of my eyes. "Of course, my dear sister. But that is precisely the point! She needs to learn before my debut that she cannot control me. If she could, I would be engaged to Sir Ruth Fairchild by now." I shuddered as I said the name of the middle-aged man who always became too friendly with his dance partners. He was single for a reason, though he had proposed to many, including my older sister Jacqueline and myself. He would probably be on one knee in front of Rachel within the next few years. But, I had already warned my young sister.
We finally reached the bottom of the steps where my parents stood, waiting for us. My father smiled to see his daughters so well turned out, but all the color drained from my mother's face.
"Audrey! What have you done?" she demanded, turning a delightful shade of red.
"Why, whatever is the problem, dearest?" my father asked, eyeing me carefully to see if he could detect the fault in me. He could not.
"Oh, Father, you know how Mother gets. She wanted me to be a shepherdess but such a costume is far too plain when I am about to make my debut. I need to catch the attention of as many men as I can if I am to make a proper marriage." I then let my lips slide themselves into a charming pout as I eyed my father sweetly.
"Oh, Veronica. The girl is fine!" my father said, giving a great booming laugh as he took her arm. "She is wearing nothing improper and will be the talk of the ball!"
My mother gave a great sigh, letting her eyes scan over me once again. "I suppose it's alright." She then looked over at Rachel who was standing awkwardly next to me. "Oh, dear Rachel! You look simply splendid in that costume!"
Her face broke out into a smile when the attention was focused on her. I had always thought that she was jealous of the attention Jackie and I received, but then again, we were the eldest, and when the time came for her debut, the interest would be shifted.
"Thank you Mother!" She then carefully looked our mother up and down before letting her eyes fall to Father. "Whom are you going as?" she asked curiously.
"Antigone and Haimon," I answered before my parents could say a word. Rachel gave me a strange look and I gave the lightest of shrugs. "What? Miss Marion taught us the story of Antigone."
"Oh, dear! What is it?"
"Come on my jewels, we will be late," my father said, ushering the three of us outside to the carriage. Jackie would not be coming with us, for she had taken ill, but coming out and seeing the stable boy, Johnny, sitting outside, I knew she had other plans.
As we walked to the carriage, I told Rachel the catastrophic story of Antigone. "It was written by Sophocles in 442 BC. Antigone and her sister Ismene had lost their brothers in a war, one that they were fighting against each other. Only one would get a proper burial, the one who was fighting for the kingdom, but Antigone couldn't stand watching her other brother be thrown carelessly aside. She buries him, but is caught by the king, Creon. He sentences her to starve to death in a cave, but finally his son, Haimon, convinces him to release her, as she had done what is right. He finally agrees, because he knows Haimon is in love with Antigone.
"Haimon makes his way to save Antigone, but she has already committed suicide in the cave, hanging herself as her mother, Jocasta, had done, and Creon then finds Haimon leaning over Antigone's body. Haimon threatens Creon, before stabbing himself and taking his own life. Creon's wife, Eurydice, also kills herself in grief over the death of her son," I finished, sighing at the tragedy of it all.
Rachel only wrinkled her nose. "What a strange story."
"It's terribly romantic if you ask me," I replied, crossing my arms as I watched London pass by the carriage windows. "They both died for love, for each other and for Antigone's brother."
"Such odd names," she said, looking away from me.
I snorted, and shook my head. "Never mind. I suppose you are not affected by it."
"I like Cinderella," she said brightly.
"The one by Mister Perrault?" I asked, glancing up briefly. She nodded eagerly and I smiled, glancing down at my hands again. I was never one for fairy tales, unlike Rachel. I tried to never spoil them for her, and so when she mentioned them, I typically kept my mouth shut.
We arrived in very little time, and when we did, the Johnson's manor was aflame with lights, with many elegant carriages, including our own, pulling up to let the even more elegant people coming out. Once we walked inside, Rachel, my mother, and myself walked over to a table where the dance cards were set up. They were extravagantly decorated with pink lace and off-white pearls on tan paper. I glanced at the numerous dances and sighed, imagining what kind of men I would have to dance with. I would have to dance one with my father of course, but my parents would mostly decide the rest. If I was lucky, I might perhaps just gain a dance with Mister Hollingsworth.
After we had retrieved the dance cards, I followed my parents around, meeting people, and saying hello to dear uncles and cousins. I curtsied and answered questions about Paris, and finally after about an hour, my mother turned me loose, and I quickly left to find my friends.
I found them in one of the many card rooms. This one was decorated with beautiful pink silk draperies and big, comfortable chairs to match. Lush white carpet sat below our feet, and a large fireplace took up the majority of the wall to the left. An enormous family portrait took up the wall opposite. I paused to examine it and I recognized Sir George, his father, and assumed that the other two people in the picture were his mother and sister. The painting was horrendously done, and I personally thought the artist should have been shot, but no matter. I turned to my friends who were sitting and gossiping about someone I had never heard of.
"Abigail! Claire!" I crooned as I came in, in a rustle of silk.
"Audrey!" Both girls squealed, jumping up to embrace me.
"It's splendid to see you girls!" I said with all honesty as I embraced the brunette and the redhead.
"London has dearly missed you," Abigail said, pulling away and returning to her seat. I observed her frizzy hair, although if you were being kind I suppose you could call it curly, and felt superiority about my own features. Abigail had a turned up nose and intensely green eyes. Although she had protected her complexion throughout childhood, she still had many freckles sprinkled on her face, as was a problem with many redheads. She was short and kind of stocky, and overall not very pretty.
"And I have missed it! Now, tell me what I have neglected to see in my absence. Whom were you discussing earlier, when I came in?" I questioned, raising an eyebrow as I seated myself at a chair adjacent to Claire and next to Abigail.
"Oh, a new woman to society!" Claire jumped in straight away, lifting her eyebrows in mock astonishment. She was a tall girl, but very well endowed in the chest region. Her eyes were brown and boring, and her hair usually hung down her back, straight as a board and a dull brown color. She had a pleasant heart-shaped face, but practically non-existent lips.
"And who, pray tell, is this girl?" It seemed I would have to drag it out of them.
"Her name is Carmen. She married the Comte!"
"Montague?" I questioned.
Abigail nodded, her hair shaking pitifully with the gesture. "Yes, I believe he met her while vacationing in Spain."
"Spain?" I asked quizzically. "Now that is odd. Have you been introduced yet?"
Both girls shook their heads and I grinned.
"No time like the present!" I piped; standing from my seat and beckoned them follow. I needed one slice of London gossip before I went home for the night.
Upon entering the main ballroom, I spotted my mother on the other side standing with several people. I expertly shielded myself behind Abigail, hoping that is I hid from her I would not have to dance with one of the eligible bachelors that were constantly thrown at me. Eligible they may be, but nothing I was looking for. Finally, we stopped in a secluded corner where Claire gestured with a wave of her fan the girl whom we were seeking.
She had a lovely oval shaped face. Her skin was not as dark as I had presumed, but more of an olive tone. Her eyes were a light brown from what I could tell and I continued to let my sapphire ones scan over her like something in a window display. She was petite, probably about the same height as me. She had a slim frame that was covered with what appeared to be a gypsy costume. The dress had white billowing sleeves with gold and black lace at the ends. The bodice was black, and I noticed, with disdain, that it was in a corset style; very similar to the one I was wearing. The skirt was a shimmering gold that matched the bangles that lined both her wrists. Her hair was braided into a crown around her head, leaving a few strands to dangle in front of her eyes.
"That's her!" Abigail said, pointing quite noticeably, causing the Spaniard to glance at us.
"Can you be any more obvious?" I asked irritably, slapping her hand down.
She rubbed the now red spot and mumbled a barley coherent apology. I ignored her though, and turned to grin evilly at Claire.
"I am going to go introduce myself."
"That is a good idea. I haven't met her yet!" she said excitedly, walking forward to join me.
"I said I was going to meet her. You will have your chance another time. Au Revoir," I said cattily, striding away. I always preferred to do my belittling alone. I did not want people to think I needed Claire and Abigail to help establish my place.
But before I could make my way to the new woman, the man I had been hoping to see all night simultaneously appeared. I grinned, deciding the new woman could wait.
"Dear Mister Hollingsworth, I suppose you did not receive the proper invitation, for the bottom of the card, I do recall it said that costumes were required," I said smoothly, observing James as he walked up to me in his formal black tails.
"But that is where you are wrong, Miss Cross. I have come as a gentlemen," he said lifting my hand to his lips.
"A gentlemen?" I questioned as he kissed my knuckle rather than his own thumb, as a true gentlemen should. "That is quite the challenge."
He gave a laugh as he released my hand. "I suppose it is, but with the help from a lady such as yourself, it shouldn't be too difficult." The music to the waltz started up and he smiled, holding out his hand. "May I take this dance?"
I gave a light grin, opening my fan and waving my face with it casually. "I am sorry to reject you good sir, but I fear I must. I have promised Mister Williams I would dance the waltz with him."
"But see here," he took my arm gently and turned me towards the outskirts of the ballroom and pointed, "Mister Williams seems to have consumed too many spirits."
I looked, and he, indeed, seemed to be stumbling around and lost. It was doubtful he would remember our dance. I looked back to James and pouted. "Well then, that leaves me without a partner. Whatever shall I do?"
Without asking my permission he swept me up into the dance, holding me closer than what was proper, but nobody around was paying attention. He leaned in close, his breath tickling my ear.
"You are an exceptional dancer Miss Cross," he whispered making me shiver in affect.
"Yes, I suppose I am learning something at Woldingham," I said, laughing at the mention of my top finishing school.
He twirled me rather roughly and caught me against his chest, his hand venturing away from my lower back and I could not help but blush. The dance soon ended and I curtsied before catching Claire's eyes that were peering queerly at me from across the ballroom.
I suppose I should go see what her prying eyes are all about.
"Well thank you for the dance but I am in need of some lemonade I'm afraid. I shall go join Miss Claire."
"Wait," he caught my hand as I turned away and I caught my breath as I looked into his eyes.
"Yes?" I asked nonchalantly as I pulled my own hand delicately away.
"Will you meet me in the cloak room in fifteen minutes?" he asked, his eyes hopeful.
My blood raced through my veins, though from my casual outside appearance you could not tell. "I suppose I could."
He nodded, smiling as an adorable lock of hair landed in his face. "Thank you for making time for me Miss Cross," he said sarcastically before bounding away towards his family but not before flashing me another smile.
Feeling giddy, I made my way over to Claire where I was immediately assaulted with questions. I threw a sly glance to our chaperones that were standing nearby, hoping for a bite of scandal. I slid my fan behind my back and pushed through the material with my fingers until it gave through. I opened it up and gasped innocently at the tear. "Oh dear! I've a rip in my fan!"
Catching on Claire nodded and set a sympathetic hand upon my shoulder. "Oh dear, we shall replace it at once! Don't mind us Miss McCarthy! We won't be but a moment."
I then took Claire's hand and we made our way to an empty room somewhere on the second story. I closed the door behind me and only when I was sure we were alone, did I begin to tell her.
"It's James!" I said breathlessly.
"Oh, what about him?"
"I think he means to propose to me tonight! I am meeting him in only a few minutes time!"
"Oh, dear Audrey, you must be so excited!"
I smiled. "I am! Oh, this is the night I have been dreaming of, Claire! Do I look okay?" I asked, hoping my appearance hadn't been ruffled in the slightest.
"You look perfect," she assured me before ushering me out the door. "Now, hurry! Go meet him and tell me everything that happens."
"I shall!" I called over my shoulder as I made my way back to the main ballroom, but only walked on its edge. I watched everyone warily, to make sure I would not be seen sneaking into the coat room, but everyone else seemed to be wrapped up in their own dance, their own gossip. No one paid attention as I slipped undetected into the large room where everyone's coats were kept.
James was already there, waiting for me with a big smile on his face. I smiled back, but did not waste time with pleasantries.
"To what do I owe this secret meeting for?" I asked as I batted my thick eyelashes up at him.
"Oh, nothing really," he said as he looked around the spacious room that was far too formal to simply hold coats. It was not as if they cared. "I just wanted you to be the first to be invited to the ball my family will be hosting next year."
"How very kind of you," I said with a sly smile. "And to what occasion is this ball being hosted for?"
"Here, let me show you the invitation," he said as he reached into his coat pocket. "And be assured that this is the first one to go out."
Curiosity was itching at me and so I had to remind myself to take the invitation gently instead of snatching it as I wanted to. But as I looked at it, I could not help but grin foolishly.
The Hollingsworth Household
Invites You to a Masquerade Ball
To Honor the Engagement Between
James Charles Hollingsworth
And Audrey Jane Cross
On the evening of Saturday
the Twenty-first of April
At nine o'clock
to the Following Address:
4820 Farringdon Street
In the City of London
"Of course, the entire ball depends on the answer to your question right now," he continued once I had looked up from reading. James dug into his pocket again and produced a ring box. "Miss Cross, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?" He opened the box to reveal the most beautiful of diamond. I saw it was nestled in velvet of the Tiffany blue color that was associated with Tiffany and Co., which was the best jewelry store in the world right now. The diamond must have been imported from New York City of the United States, and I could already see the extraordinary diamond perched on my left hand.
And suddenly, all my dreams of marrying my one love were coming true. As I accepted his proposal and let him slip on the ring before kissing me with such enthusiasm I lost my every train of thought, I knew that my happily ever after had just come true.
--
