Chapter Ten: Amelia Ruth Part Two

"One woman's poise is another woman's poison." ~Katharine Brush

June 23rd, 1879

London, England, United Kingdom, Europe

The room was alive with the sounds of conversation and music. Marie had to stop as the butler at the door checked her invitation and took that moment to adjust her mask.

It was a beautiful olive green mask with miniature white roses adorning the sides. Her hair had been styled in an elaborate updo with white roses arranged in a crown about her head, courtesy of Nessie Morgan back at the Moriarty mansion. She took her invitation back from the butler and entered the ballroom of the estate; the butler announced her name as she entered.

"Welcoming, Lady Alice St. Clair."

It was grand, with a crystal chandelier hanging from the center of the ceiling and flower arrangements spaced around the massive room. A five-string quartet played a waltz in one corner with a large banquet table along the other wall. Couples were already dancing, and some women were filling out their dance cards as they gossiped. Marie received her empty dance card from a servant as she stepped in the doors. She cleared her throat, adjusted her silk gloves, and smoothed them down the front of her elaborate gown.

Her dress was a gown made out of taffeta and silks and matched her mask in color. It was an off-the-shoulder dress with a fitted waistline and a full crinolined skirt. The neckline was detailed and had layers of miniature white roses to match her mask. There was a narrow belt at her waistline, and the large skirts of the dress were overlaid with large petal-like drapes. The petals were gathered at the waist, and the skirt was finished with cascading ruffles and a cording trim. It was gorgeous.

However, it was time to mingle until it was time to put the plan into action.

The plan was simple. Marie was to get in, mingle and dance until she received the signal, distribute the poison and then get out. The only problem was getting the poison to the correct person without being caught.

But she would worry about that later. Right now, she had to dance.

In the day leading up to Marie's answer to Amelia Ruth, Nessie had received an invitation for the both of them to attend the masquerade ball that the Ruth family was hosting as a celebration for Amelia's husband's birthday. Unfortunately, Nessie couldn't attend as she was still technically in mourning and had her hands full with her son Elliot and her new adopted son Jimmy who she had adopted shortly after his kidnapping by the Baskervilles.

However, Nessie made up for this by giving Marie dance lessons on how to dance about the ballroom properly. She taught her a number of dances, including the waltz, the polka, the tango, and many more dances that she should be expected to learn before her first time at a ball.

Marie was reminded of a similar time when she had danced like this at an earlier point in her life—back before her hands had been broken. Then, she had been clothed in a peacock feather gown with green silken gloves and a matching mask. She remembered brown eyes, unruly black hair, and a charcoal black suit. She remembered dancing with him the entire night instead of changing dance partners. How scandalous they had been.

She shook her head to rid herself of thoughts of glittering peacocks and brown eyes and smiled politely as a nobleman approached her and held out a hand with a bow.

It was time to dance.

Several hours in, and Marie finally got the signal. She had been dancing her heart out to nearly every dance she had attempted to master in the last day. Now she stood at the banquet table, helping herself to a polite cup of wine. She was utterly parched and had to stop herself from gulping it down in two swallows. Instead, she took polite sips and blotted at her mouth with a handkerchief to not ruin her makeup.

Someone approached from behind and grabbed a cup of wine from a passing servant.

"You were dancing beautifully out there," Albert said, and she nearly jumped in surprise. Then, turning to look at him, she took in his black suit and white bowtie, as well as his elegant green and gold mask. Marie didn't expect him to speak to her throughout this whole masquerade. So far, no one had spoken to her out of the entire Moriarty group, and she assumed it would've been that way the entire ball.

"Why, thank you. It's hard work dancing in a dress like this, you know." She replied, and he let out a quiet laugh,

"I imagine. But you look lovely. Nessie did a wonderful job picking everything out." He commented. She felt her cheeks burn with the compliment. She quickly took out her fan and began to fan herself with it, making sure to avoid eye contact with anyone as not to send an accidental message with her fan. Then, out of the corner of her eye, she saw Albert smile at her reaction.

"Is there a reason you came over here? Or is it just to fluster me?" She said curtly, and Albert cleared his throat.

"It's time. Good luck." He said, and then he was gone.

Marie watched Amelia Ruth fume silently on the sidelines as her husband danced with the woman Marie presumed to be the mistress. She was a pretty woman, with hair that shone like gold and big blue eyes that sparkled as she laughed. She wore a dress of deep purple to match the husband's necktie though Marie suspected no one else picked up on that but her and Amelia.

Marie was still standing by the banquet table, hand clasped in a fist about her vial of powdered poison she had previously hidden away in the folds of her dress. She was just waiting for the right time. It had been a long process to make this poison. She could not fail.

The dance ended, and Marie made her move. She quickly set her empty wine glass on a passing servant's tray. Then, Marie picked up another full glass, discretely dusting a layer of the powdered poison in and swirling the glass with one hand before tucking the vial underneath her bustle where it lay hidden and secure. Finally, she made her way over to Amelia—picking up another wine glass along the way—just as the quintet started up another song. This time it was a waltz.

"Is that her?" She asked, and Amelia nodded, gritting her teeth. She was dressed in a lovely navy blue bejeweled dress with black accents, feathers decorating her hair, and her matching mask.

"The wretch thought she could dance with him in front of all these people and not have me notice? I presume you have the poison here, Miss St. Clair?" She asked, and Marie had to stop from shushing the woman.

"That isn't the smartest thing to do, Lady Ruth—talking about the poison here." She said softly, and Amelia scoffed,

"Whatever, just get it done." She snapped, taking one of the two offered wine glasses from Marie and taking a sip.

"Yes, ma'am," Marie said under her breath and left the ginger-haired woman to her own devices.

She approached the blonde woman dancing with Amelia's husband as she left the dance floor as the song ended.

"You dance beautifully." She said, and the woman beamed.

"Thank you! I'm Daisy Harrington; it's a pleasure to meet you!" She said and accepted the offered wine glass from Marie with an exhausted 'thank you!'

"Alice St. Clair. Your dress is beautiful; I must ask where you got it?" Marie asked as the two of them made their way back over to the banquet table. Daisy eagerly helped herself to some snacks set out for the dancers, paying no attention to rules or sophistication. She had been on the dancefloor longer than Marie had, so she must've been starving.

"This thing? It was a gift actually, from Lord Ruth himself!" She whispered the last part, cupping a hand around her mouth as if afraid someone else would hear. But everyone else was busy gossiping amongst themselves to bother with what Marie and Daisy were talking about. Marie widened her eyes, hand coming to cup her own mouth as she played her part.

"Really? Even though he has a wife?" She whispered back, and Daisy nodded, her mood dropping, and she fiddled with her wine glass, taking another sip. The alcohol was making her loose-lipped and bold.

"Don't tell anyone, but I'm his mistress. No one is supposed to know." She said softly and glanced up through her lashes with those big blue eyes of hers as if afraid. Marie shook her head,

"I won't tell a soul. It would be improper to ruin his reputation." She said solemnly.

Daisy's head shot up, and her smile returned,

"Oh, thank you! Thank you! To be honest, I don't want to be his mistress. I hate it, really. I was just supposed to be one of the servants around here. But it keeps food on the table for my siblings, you know?" She said, still keeping her voice soft. Marie froze at her words.

She was only a mistress because of her siblings?

And Amelia wanted her dead.

Marie watched as Daisy drained her glass of wine and set it on the tray of a passing servant. Daisy adjusted her feathered mask and turned to Marie,

"Would you like to take a walk in the gardens? It'll be a moment before the next dance begins, and you are such lovely company!" Marie glanced towards Amelia just as she finished her wine. Amelia was glaring at Daisy, and Marie frowned before quickly plastering a smile on her face as Daisy looked at her hopefully.

"I'd love that Daisy, will you lead the way?"

"Of course! This way!"

It was warm outside as Marie and Daisy walked through the gardens, talking and laughing as they admired the flora around them. They had both abandoned their masks and instead carried them about as they sipped at their wine.

"Thank you for talking with me, Alice. I haven't really had anyone to talk to since I started to be Lord Ruth's mistress. The servants refuse to talk to me. And Lady Ruth wants me dead, I swear." Marie choked on her inhale as Daisy said this.

"S-surely not! She wouldn't go as far as k-killing you, would she?" She stammered, but Daisy nodded firmly,

"I heard her talking to herself about it the other day in the parlor. She is planning something. I know it!"

Marie was silent for a moment before opening her mouth to speak; she had to tell her what was going on.

She deserved to know.

"Daisy I-"

"Edith?" Came a voice that shattered Marie's poise and control. She turned, a man around her age stood before her. His curled black hair was slicked back, but a single curl lay stubbornly on his forehead. His brown eyes were wide with recognition and surprise, his mask in his hands. The mask was trembling. She swore there were tears in his eyes.

"Edith, is that you?" He asked again, voice shaking. Marie had to concentrate on ignoring the world swaying beneath her feet as she spoke.

"Matthew."