Chapter 16: Masquerade
Summary: Spring brings along with it new beginnings and some flights of fancy...
[excerpt]:
Kylo grabbed Rey, turning her around. His eyes flashed wildly as they reflected the sun's setting light. "You impetuous, magnificent thing," he said fiercely, his voice trembling with his anger and desire. He drew her into his arms, holding her tightly as he murmured his relief.
~O~~O~~O~~O~~O~
Truth, but not the whole truth, must be the invariable principle of every man who hath either religion, honour, or prudence. Those who violate it, may be cunning, but they are not able. Lies and perfidy are the refuge of fools and cowards.
-Philip Stanhope, 4th Earl of Chesterfield
"How may I assist you, Your Grace?"
"I wish to purchase some gallic and acetic acid. A drachm of each, please."
The young man nodded, pulling the requested ingredients from the shelf. He placed a glass phial on the scale. Dropperfuls of the colorless liquid slowly filled the vessel, the two brass plates lifting and descending until they leveled out at the appropriate weight.
Bazine watched his hands as he worked. His fingers were dexterous and steady as he continued to scoop and measure, chop and pour.
"Will there be anything else which you require today?" he asked, coloring slightly under her appreciative gaze.
"I also need some iron sesquichloride. Preferably in its tinctured form."
The apprentice's face fell. "We do not have the tincture, but I could make one for you. It should be ready in a fortnight."
Bazine's face hardened fractionally. "Oh, how very disappointing," she remarked as she smoothed her expression into a pout. "I was hoping to have it sooner, although I suppose two weeks will have to do."
"How much do you need, Your Grace? I could prepare it now, and have it delivered as soon as it is ready."
"Three ounces, if you would. And although I am flattered by the generosity of your offer, I would prefer to leave with the preparation today."
The young man carefully removed a small amount of the iron powder before mixing it with a rectified spirit. The resulting solution turned a bright brown, letting off a subtle, acidic smell.
"You must take care to avoid the extremes of heat and light, It is incompatible with alkalies and tannins, and do not forget to shake the container periodically, to maximize the extraction." He frowned as he decanted the mixture into a bottle.
"Forgive my impertinence, Your Grace. But this is nearly a gill of iron. There are significant side effects which may be suffered with high doses of the compound; not to mention the risk of fatality. Are you sure you require this amount?"
Bazine let out a soft laugh as she considered his words.
"I appreciate your concern," she replied, giving him an enigmatic smile. "But I assure you that I am familiar with both the use of, and the precautions necessary to handle, such an ingredient."
Over the next two weeks, Bazine bided her time, watching over the solution and following his instructions with the utmost care. She added the acids once the tincture was finally complete, delighting at the result as the concoction turned an inky black.
Perfect, she thought as she held it to the light. It swirled around, a thick obsidian as dark as the purpose for which it was made. She sealed the container, storing it in a velvet-lined, brass-bound box, where it would safely remain until the time came for its intended use.
~O~~O~~O~~O~~O~~O~
For the second time that afternoon, Rey closed her book and sighed. The house was uncharacteristically quiet. She had declined Phasma's entreaties to accompany her on the latest round of social calls, choosing to use the time for self-reflection instead. After several hours, however, the allure of solitude wore thin, and Rey found herself longing for the animated chatter and frenetic energy which so often filled the home.
She stepped outside, delighting in sun's warmth and the delicate fragrance of the magnolia's growing bloom. The sweet floral notes danced in the brisk air and she closed her eyes, inhaling its ethereal bouquet. She startled as the delicate offerings of the young blossoms were suddenly overcome by the smell of vertiver grass and an earthy, pine scent.
"There is little in the world which can compare with Spring's fecund beauty."
"Indeed, My Lord." She turned. Kylo was watching her softly, his lips drawn into a smile. "I find myself quite enamored by her splendor today, despite the lingering chill."
"Indeed," Kylo hummed in agreement. They stood together in companionable silence, listening to the chattering of the starlings as the flock wheeled about. Rey followed their movements in delight, entranced by their ever-changing patterns as they swooped powerfully through the sky.
Kylo stole a look at his watch. "I know of a place, if pretty blooms and preening birds are what you seek." He glanced at the thinness of her cotton morning gown and pelisse. "I will be waiting out front. Please have Jessika dress you in something warm," he added, grinning at her excitement as she retreated up the stairs.
"What do you think Mister Kylo has planned?" asked Jessika as Rey flopped impatiently onto the bed.
"He did not say." She raised her arms, wriggling as the brunette helped her out of her gown. The prospect of a mysterious adventure made her feel like a child awaiting a treat. "Although he did mention something about flowers and birds."
Jessika peered out the front window. A pair of perfectly matched thoroughbreds stood hitched to the high-flyer, their black coats glossy in the sun.
The abigail smiled. She returned to the closet, selecting a cream-colored kerseymere dress followed by a short-waisted, red woolen jacket and a matching Leghorn hat. She smoothed the folds her mistress' skirt, nodding her approval as she took in the outfit's bold color and complimentary form.
"Ahh, Miss Kenobi. The people of the fashionable hour will not be the only ones unable to take their eyes off you," she said with a wink.
Rey blushed, Jessika's words ringing in her ears as Kylo assisted her up the ladder and onto the highly suspended seat. They set forth, weaving their way through the crowded streets, perched high above the bustle and the din. The throngs of pedestrians and the parade of carriages often hampered their progress, as peddlers with their wagons, bakers with their baskets, and coal-heavers with their shovels shared the narrow lanes with beggars and aristocrats alike.
Rey's breath hitched as she watched a Romany stumble into a lady wearing a fur-trimmed gown. As the dark male mumbled his apologies, a slight figure stole out from the crowd. He quickly tested her husband's pockets and cut his purse, retreating back into the masses with his ill-begotten loot.
If Kylo noted the familiarity of the bulk and file, he made no mention of it.
"You need to be careful, Rey," he warned gently. "Each day brings with it an increasing number of thieves and rogues who prowl the streets."
Rey's voice faltered. "That boy. He was so young." She closed her eyes as she envisioned how his loose and tattered clothing hung on his scrawny frame. "He looked to be of the same age as I..." She looked down at her leather clad hands.
"It was not that long ago that I would have been considered part of that mix," she finished softly.
Kylo gave her a reproachful look. "Yet you are not. Whatever your sympathies, you are now considered one of the well-off and the well-dressed, and prime for the nailing. The streets are filled to the brim with the desperate and the unscrupulous, and their numbers only continue to grow by the day." His voice took on an air of urgency. "Promise me that you will always remain on your guard."
Rey nodded. She knew first hand of the depths people could stoop to when there was nothing left to lose.
The phaeton wound its way to the park, the noise of the streets slowly morphing into an explosion of color as nature and human vanity put on a glorious show. A carpet of bluebells blanketed the verdant grounds while the narcissi showed off their pendulant blooms. A cavalcade of custom-painted carriages rumbled sedately down the bridle path, driven by bewigged coachmen, each one more flamboyant than the next. Those who did not have the means for such a ride displayed their assets through their dress: young bucks and debutantes clothed in the latest fashion, striving for the proper deportment as they ogled the generous display of equine and human flesh.
A peal of laughter rang through the air as another carriage passed on their side. The driver captured Rey's attention as she guided her horses and the barouche with a deft touch.
Kylo keenly observed the flicker of interest in Rey's eyes. "The suspended seat of the high-flyer makes more difficult to drive," he remarked. "But you are certainly welcome to try."
She bestowed upon him a grateful smile as she grasped the reins. Kylo's large hands settled comfortably alongside her own as he guided her movements, the thoroughbreds adapting quickly to the change in command. He shifted closer in the narrow seat, and her cheeks turned pink from the press of his leg as much as they did from the phaeton's increasing speed.
"Rey." Kylo spoke softly, and her heart quickened at its gentle tone.
"Yes, My Lord?"
"I need to speak with you. Specifically about our current arrangement, as it relates to your guardianship."
A confusion and panic welled up inside her at his words. "My guardianship, my Lord?" she asked with a squeak.
Kylo nodded. "When you became my ward last summer, I never followed through with the Court of Chancery. Without their approval, any future marriage would not be sanctioned by the Court."
She frowned, unable to hide the bitterness in her voice. "I find it disconcerting that the Court would have more interest in the matrimonial status of an eighteen-year old woman than in the welfare of an orphaned child. Their approval means naught to me."
Kylo raised an eyebrow at her sharp tone. "The Court's intentions are well-meaning, even if the ability to carry out their decisions is regrettably lacking. It is also more than an issue of marriage. The status of your guardianship would be subject to greater challenge, as it currently stands."
Rey grimaced. "Forgive my impertinence, my Lord. Of course, I shall agree to whatever must be done."
Kylo nodded, relieved. "I have asked my father to petition for your guardianship in my stead. The Marquess is not without considerable influence; his peerage and reputation would do much to hasten to process."
He watched her intently. He raised his hand, the back of his fingers gracing the gentle curve of her cheek.
"There is also another, more personal reason for my request," Kylo admitted. "When you agreed to come back with me to Caserta, my life was forever changed, in more ways than one. I-"
"Bloody Hell!" Kylo swore as the horses suddenly shied, tilting the high-flyer dangerously to its side. He quickly pulled on the reins, murmuring his assurances to the excited team as he pulled Rey close to his side.
There was a loud clattering as an ostentatious Tilbury rushed by. The carriage had been modified to be pulled by a pair of matched bays, and its aggressive curves reeked of its dangerous speed.
The owner was dressed in an ankle-length coat striped in a garish combination of yellow and blue. He peered out over the head of his liveried groom, his full lips curling into a sensuous smile as he spied Rey.
"Miss Kenobi," Sir Tyran drawled. "Once again, your beauty far outshines all which surrounds you." His eyes insolently raked over her form before acknowledging Kylo's furious stare.
"Ren."
"Sir Tyran," Ren responded coolly. "I wish I could say that good breeding brings along with it good taste, but alas..." He waved his hand, smirking as he took in the younger man's appearance. "In truth, your coat would put even the overelaborate display of the peafowl to shame."
"It is a well-known fact that peahens favor an ornamented train over one which is damaged and weak," Sir Tyran sneered as his eyes settled on Kylo's scar.
"The only frailty which I detect around here is that of a weak chin." Ren retorted. "How has yours recovered, by the way?"
Kylo huffed as Tyran affixed him with an angry glare. By now the carriages had come to a complete stop, and a crowd was gathering by their side.
Rey sucked in her breath as her eyes darted back and forth between the two men. She thought quickly, batting her eyes innocently as she turned towards Tyran.
"No woman I know would wish to be equated with a peahen," she said, her voice deceptively sweet. "And as for character, I prefer to look beyond such superficial displays. As a wise man once said, Out of suffering have emerged the strongest souls; the most massive characters are seared with scars."
Tyran's eyes flashed dangerously as he turned towards Ren.
"I see that your ward not only manages your driving, but your sparring as well. Perhaps she is in need of someone with a firmer hand, given her outré behavior." He paused, before adding lasciviously. "Unless she enjoys her current position as an entry on the ledgers at White's."
A mixture of amusement and scandalized fascination rippled through the crowd.
"Only a weak man would view the strength of a woman as an undesirable trait," Rey spat. She ignored the warning signs as temper won out over common sense. "Would you care to match your driving skills against those of a mere girl?"
Sir Tyran's eyes held a wicked gleam.
"Be careful what you wish for, Miss Kenobi. I warn you, if you truly wish to be tested as an equal, I will not hold back. Do you honestly think that you can best a man, and a Whip to boot?"
Kylo leaned over worriedly. "Rey. Think about this. The carriage-it's height makes it an unstable ride at higher speeds. You do not have much experience in handling such a rig, and should one of the horses lose their footing, both-as well as the high flyer with us in it-will be easily brought down."
"I would never do anything to harm either of our reputations!"
"And I could care less for the petty tittle-tattle or grumblings of a gizzard!" Kylo bit back. "Do you honestly think that is what I worry about? It is for your safety and well-being that I have my greatest concern!"
"As do I, my Lord." She lowered her voice, her hazel eyes pleading for his trust. He watched her carefully, before sighing and acquiescing with an imperceptible nod.
The pair of phaetons made their way to the lamp-lined stretch. Tyran leaned forward eagerly, his tall and broad frame poised from the start. Upon the signal the horses flew, their nostrils flaring and ears flattening as their strides grew. The tan bark flew behind their flying limbs, and the rumble and crunch of gravel underneath the carriages' wheels echoed through the park along with the bystanders' shouts.
The horses lunged as they neared the end of the mile-long stretch. Tyran cracked the whip, causing the bays' eyes to roll as the tilbury careened dangerously under their strain. The Arabians lengthened and pushed, their black coats shiny with their sweat. Rey longed to give in to the Arabians' desire to let completely loose, yet she feared for the bays' safety at such a punishing pace.
They were running neck and neck, and Rey heard Tyran's desperation as he swore underneath his breath. At the last moment Rey tugged back gently on the reins, ensuring that the high flyer's profile would match that of the tilbury's at the very end. She watched as Tyran slammed down his fist in frustration, and a roar of disappointment flashed through the crowd.
"Miss Kenobi!"
Lord Thanisson was waving frantically, his eyes lighting in delight.
She graced him with a brilliant smile. He stepped forward, readying his congratulations until her visage was suddenly blocked by Kylo's tall frame.
Kylo grabbed Rey, turning her around. His eyes flashed wildly as they reflected the sun's setting light.
"You impetuous, magnificent thing," he said fiercely, his voice trembling with his anger and desire. He drew her into his arms, holding her tightly as he murmured his relief.
Rey closed her eyes, the noise of the crowd disappearing as she fell into the safety of Kylo's embrace. She sighed as she breathed him in, unaware of the hurt which lingered in Thanisson's eyes or the humiliation which settled on Tyran's face.
~O~~O~~O~~O~~O~~O~~O~
The hanging lanterns twinkled from the trees, turning the long, sweeping avenues of the Ranelagh Gardens into a fairy tale setting. A trove of bawds and prostitutes traversed their paths, consorting with harlequins and pierrots as their dissonant songs filled the night.
"That must be Lord Wexley," Phasma whispered. She pointed to a male dressed in the habit of an abbess, his blond curls peaking out from beneath his white guimpe. His lips and cheeks were rouged, and he was leering in a decidedly sinful manner at the bare-breasted Aphrodite who stood near his side.
Rey laughed as she remembered the playfully flirtatious man from the Winter's Ball. He was not alone in his indiscretion; many of the guests were taking advantage of their hidden identities and the copious amounts of arrack punch to flaunt the rules of convention.
A cloaked figure brushed past Wexley, catching her eye.
Kylo had eschewed the fanciful costumes which adorned many of the dandies in favor of a domino and mask. The bahoo and the cloak were constructed from the blackest satin, its unembellished material gleaming under the lights. It billowed and swirled with his every movement, and despite its otherwise unadorned nature, he made a statement in a bejeweled crowd.
As if aware of her perusal, he stilled. His head tilted and turned, his lips curling up into a saucy grin. He lifted his glass in her direction before heading towards a couple dressed in matching Turkish silks.
The woman's semi-sheer fabric fell enticingly over her décolletage. Her thick auburn locks were gathered into a thick braid and threaded with jewels, her eyes rimmed heavily in kohl.
He pressed a kiss upon the woman's hand. "You look exceptionally lovely tonight, Your Highness. The Sultan is indeed a lucky man."
The male laughed, his green eyes flashing in agreement. His heavily brocaded robe was adorned with a gold metallic trim, and a matching turban sat atop of his head.
"Ren. How were you able to guess?"
Kylo snorted. "Besides the fact that I have known you for nearly twenty-five years? There is no mistaking that hair."
Hux's hand darted up ruefully as he tucked away the tell-tale strands.
"Yes, well, there's not much to be done for it. Aside from blackening it, which Isabelle resolutely refuses to let me do."
"Of course I did. Why should you mar such handsomeness for just one night? Vous êtes parfait comme vous êtes, mon chéri." She reached out and squeezed his hand, her brown eyes filled with love.
Hux squeezed back, catching the look of longing on Kylo's face.
"Have you spoken to her yet, Ren?" he asked softly.
Kylo shook his head. "I just received word that my father's petition was approved by the Court."
Hux looked at Ren quizzically. "Well, what are you waiting for then? Go ahead and declare your intentions to the girl. Surely, there is no better time than the present."
Kylo laughed. "A masquerade ball in a pleasure garden with hundreds of society's most vicious gossips is hardly the forum I was envisioning to profess my affection."
"You have waited to find love for so long, My Lord," Isabelle urged. "The night is filled with magic. Do not put off your happiness for any longer, for both of your sakes."
He took a deep breath, gazing at his drink. The burgundy liquid swirled as he rotated the glass, dripping and clinging to its sides.
He glanced back to where Rey had stood, only to find that she had gone, replaced by a soubrettish Columbina and several Innamorati.
"To happiness, and new beginnings," he whispered, draining the last dregs as he set off to find his love.
.~O~.
"I know you. Do you know me?"
The man's breath tickled against the shell of Rey's ear. He smelled of comfort, like the sweetest honey and the freshest of soaps.
Rey turned, the beading of her ghagra choli and the rows of her bracelets tinkling as she moved. She peered at the male, his tall figure clad in a long black coat with a row of silver buttons side, the ruffles of his sleeves spilling out from beneath the cuffs. A pair of brown eyes danced from underneath his pirate's mask.
"I believe I do. It is a pleasure to see you here tonight, Lord Thanisson."
"The pleasure is all mine. You look exquisite, Miss Kenobi. A gem in any Maharaja's crown." He took her hand. It was uncovered, and he brought the bared skin gently to his lips.
Rey felt the softness as his mouth skimmed her flesh. Its warmth flowed through her, like a friendly embrace.
He watched her expectantly, looking for the dilation of her pupils, or the quickening of her breath. His face fell in resignation when neither came.
"My Lord-"
"You are in love with another." The words came out not as a question, nor an accusation, but as a matter of fact.
She lowered her eyes, silent in response.
"Rey." He lifted his hand to her chin.
"Although some may consider it déclassé, when I entered this Season, I hoped to find a woman who would challenge my heart as well as my mind. A woman whom I could love fully, and who would hopefully love me in the same way in return."
He dropped his hands to his sides. "When I met you, you captivated me with your beauty and your wit. It would seem that you have everything which I seek, except for the inescapable fact that your heart was already taken by another."
Rey opened her mouth to protest but stopped. She would not debase Thanisson's heartfelt admission with a lie.
"You deserve to have a marriage based on love, Rey. As do I." He smiled valiantly, his eyes filled with regret. "I hope you understand that I can no longer continue to court you. But it is my heartfelt wish that we remain friends."
"I would like that very much, My Lord," Rey responded, her heart breaking at his kindness. "Whoever wins your affection in the end will be the luckiest woman, indeed."
They strolled along the canal, the water gently lapping and reflecting the pavilion's lights. A tall figure darted out of the periphery, his black cloak fluttering out from behind him as he scanned the crowd.
"Excuse me, my Lord."
Thanisson frowned. "It is nearly the midnight hour. Are you not attending the unmasking?" He followed her gaze, noting how it softened as she followed the larger male's movements.
He smiled in understanding. "Be careful out there, Miss Kenobi. Not all of Ranelagh's pathways are well lit; there may be quite a number of couples who seek their darkness for romantic assignations tonight."
Rey smiled, squeezing his hand gratefully. "Thank you, My Lord. For everything."
Rey walked quickly, her cuffs jangling as the lights from the party progressively dimmed. She trailed quickly after Kylo's retreating form, panting as she attempted to gain on his large strides.
Kylo stilled as he heard her approach. He stood, tall and powerful, his raven locks spilling down to his broad shoulders, his face shadowed behind the moon's pale light. He looked around quickly. The music played in the distance, with no other voices to be heard.
He strode forward to bridge their distance. A strong prickle of fear washed through her as his fingers grappled onto her bare skin. The edges of his cloak dug into her, marking her with its ornate trim. He crooked his arms, holding her tightly against his broad chest, and her heart clenched as she was overwhelmed by the unfamiliar scent of sandalwood and musk.
Rey opened her mouth to scream, gagging as his large hand swiftly covered her mouth.
"Continue to fight me, Miss Kenobi," the man whispered as he held her from behind. "And I will show you just how much I can enjoy breaking your spirit."
She twisted against him, horrified as his body hardened in response. She reared back, drawing up her knees and kicking out at his shins until he nearly dropped her in his surprise. She took advantage of his temporary confusion to claw at his face, feeling a dark satisfaction as her nails sank painfully into his flesh.
"You miserable bitch!" he snarled, wheeling her around as she triumphantly pulled at his mask.
Her mouth dropped open at his exposed visage as the mask fell onto the ground. His golden eyes were hard and cruel, his skin smooth but for the marks recently left by her hand. His nose lay straight and his cheeks high, and his hair was as unnaturally black as the starless night.
The man's full lips turned up into a sneer as he saw the dawning recognition in her eyes.
"We meet again, Miss Kenobi," he laughed mockingly as Rey stared into the face of Sir Tyran.