These Vicious Masks: A Swoon Novel (3 page)

For his part, Mr. Braddock seemed unequal to the task of dealing with the creature and unceremoniously let her drop to the ground, where it seemed her false swoon became a true one. He hovered
above her, shock and guilt lacing his features. The ballroom lay deathly still for a brief moment until he wordlessly whirled and dashed straight out of the room, guests hopping out of his path. I
looked at Mr. Kent and saw my own puzzlement mirrored on his angular face. Then a small, gloved hand grabbed my own, and Rose pulled me toward the fallen girl.

T
HE GIRL SHOT
up from the divan.

“Whe—what’s happened?” she asked. “Why—”

“Slowly, slowly,” Rose said, easing her to a comfortable position. “You had quite a fall.”

Rose held her fingers on the girl’s wrist, taking her pulse. A slight wrinkle appeared between her brows. “Your pulse is still quite fast, Miss—”

“Reid.” The girl looked around the drawing room dizzily.

Rose held up her hand. “How many fingers do you count?”

“Three.”

“Good. Are you in any pain?”

Miss Reid looked quite distraught still, though that was likely embarrassment. Many guests had trickled into the room to stare. “No, miss.”

Rose nodded. “Then there’s no reason to be alarmed. You just have a mild fever, and I suspect a day of rest is all you need. I will call on you tomorrow morning to be sure your
condition has improved.”

Behind us, the crowd murmured their approval. Some even began to clap, which our mother seemed to take as a personal affront to our family. Bursting through the spectators, she called with
operatic tones, “Evelyn, Rose, come along. I am sure her family will help her to the carriage.”

Rose and I exchanged looks but quietly obeyed. We followed Mother out of the drawing room and into a long, empty corridor, where she stopped and turned her full height upon us like a wrathful
Hera.

“Rose, I am ashamed of you. While I expect this stubborn disregard for decorum from your sister, it is an extremely unpleasant shock to see you display yourself in such a way!

“I have allowed you to nurse our friends and neighbors so long as it was modestly, humbly performed as an act of ladylike charity. But to commandeer the room in front of all those eyes,
actually ordering men about! I daresay you were excited, and your innate good sense took leave for a moment. It will not happen again. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, Mama.”

“Thank you, Rose. Evelyn, I expect you to set a better example.”

“I’ll insist Rose lets her die next ti—”

She interrupted me with her deadliest glare and snapped, “We will return to the ball, and there will be no such spectacle again.”

With that, she drew herself up, pasted on a sickening smile, and took our arms. After hauling us back to the bright lights of the ballroom, she immediately called over a nearsighted young lord,
who eagerly asked Rose for the next dance. With Mother’s attention on them, I escaped unnoticed to the dining room.

I was just filling my plate with far too many desserts when a voice spoke directly into my ear. “Ah! The hero has returned. And found her cake.”

I jumped slightly, nearly dropping my precious food on Mr. Kent’s shoes. Beside him stood Robert, glancing around as though Rose might suddenly appear out of a tapestry.

“Yes, I am extremely heroic and wonderful,” I declared. “It certainly wasn’t my little sister who handled the whole thing beautifully and was then set down by my angry
mother.”

“Ah,” Mr. Kent said lightly, “she was not thrilled that your sister’s talents were on display?”

“No,” I said, taking a bite of cake, “she was not.”

“If it’s at all reassuring,” said Mr. Kent, “the ballroom is far more preoccupied with Mr. Braddock’s sudden departure.”

Robert frowned. “Yes. It was rather odd. Perhaps he went to find a doctor?”

“Or he was simply being dramatic,” I countered. “Hoping that we would fall all over ourselves, wondering what could have possibly been the matter.”

A particularly loud babble of conversation rose, and I turned to see Mr. Braddock entering the dining room as though summoned by our talk. Indeed, a swarm of eager guests converged to speak to
him, and he hurried back out of the room in a matter of seconds.

“This entire ball has gone mad,” I muttered.

“Why, Evelyn, he seems like the perfect man for you!” Robert teased gently.

“Ha! That mysterious act is a mockery of men who have suffered any real grief or pain.”

The slightest gleam appeared in Mr. Kent’s eye. “And yet your mother wanted you to dance with him—what
is
she thinking?”

“Oh, she thinks him highly eligible. Though she thinks nearly everyone is suitable as long as they propose soon. But because Mr. Braddock is now in Bramhurst, she’s going to pester
me about him this whole winter. It’s already unbearable.”

“I see.” Mr. Kent met my gaze before I looked down at my pudding. “Is there anything I might do to help?” All the usual lightness had left his voice.

“No, thank you, Mr. Kent, I simply must wait and hope she’ll learn patience,” I replied.

He gulped down the last of his wine. “What would make her more patient?”

“If Rose were to finally promise herself to Robert,” I blurted out.

I paused for a moment to contemplate. Dear God, did I really just speak those words aloud? No, no, I’d never. But Robert’s slack jaw and wide-eyed expression confirmed the truth.

“Miss Wyndham, I’m—I’m sorry. I did not mean to—” Mr. Kent said, looking rather distraught.

“Excuse me,” I muttered, thrusting my desserts into his hand and rushing away, deeper into the crowd.

Blast. Blast. Blast! What an idiotic mistake. I didn’t even know why I said it. I’d had only one glass of wine! Possibly two. And a half. But it was foolish! Exceedingly! It
was
the truth, but it was not my business at all. Rose. I needed to find Rose and warn her before Robert tried to surprise her with a sudden proposal. This was not the way it should have
happened.

Distressed, I wove through bodies, squeezed past fences of guests, and searched for my sister. She wasn’t among those finishing the remains of dinner in the dining room. She wasn’t
dancing in the center of the ballroom, nor was she resting on the side. And she wasn’t playing or laughing at the whist tables in the crowded game room. This was ridiculous. A ball with
hordes of guests everywhere—half of them in love with her—and she somehow vanishes. Rose should have been in one of these rooms. She was the responsible one. She wouldn’t have run
off, unchaperoned, to some part of the house that was open to family only.

Twisting down another corridor, I calmed at the sight of her blue satin dress and blond head. But my heart quickly regained its rapid pace when I saw the two men who blocked the path to her, for
it was not only the unwelcome Mr. Braddock but also the carriage lifter who had been slinking about outside the house. Fear knotted in my stomach as I gained on the trio.

“Rose!” I called. “What in heaven’s—”

My words were drowned out by Mr. Braddock’s: “Again, sir, as you were not invited, I must ask you to leave.”

The giant studied Mr. Braddock, saying nothing. Behind them, Rose looked pale and uncomfortable, but unharmed.

“Now, sir.” Mr. Braddock took a step forward, still not acknowledging my presence behind him. Rage lined his voice with a jagged edge. “I would hate to remove you
myself.”

It felt dangerous standing in the middle of the hall, directly between him and the giant’s potential exit. Nervously, I shuffled to the side. A tense silence followed, and something
indecipherable seemed to pass between the two until at last the giant conceded. His expression softened as he turned to Rose. “Thank you for your assistance, Miss Rosamund,” he said
with a light French accent. “It appears I must be leaving.”

“But how might I help further?” she asked, glancing cautiously between the two men.

“I will send a message with my information,” he said, giving her a quick bow. As he passed Mr. Braddock, he gave a final nod. “I’m sorry for the intrusion.”

Mr. Braddock did not let up. “Leave the way you came in, and do not disturb our guests.”

The giant passed me with a great whoosh of air and padded down the hallway, the wood floor crackling as he disappeared around the corner. The corridor went silent. No drone of the orchestra, no
pattering of raindrops, no explanation from Mr. Braddock. He simply glared past me, making sure the uninvited guest departed for good. What on earth happened? Whatever it was, I was getting my
sister away from it.

“Rose, we must be going,” I said, slipping by Mr. Braddock. “The ball is almost over, and Mother will be searching for us.” I pulled my sister by two fingers back toward
the ballroom, passing Mr. Braddock and the roiling energy emanating off him. I avoided all eye contact and any reflective wall hangings that might lead to it.

“Miss Rosamund, a word, please. My apologies for that man,” he said, following close. “I don’t want to bother you, but about your healing, your special power,
really—”

My head snapped up. Her
special power
? “Mr. Braddock, that was much more than a single word,” I said. “And it is much too late. Good night.”

I pulled Rose along, but still the man stalked her, ignoring me entirely. “Please, this is important. Miss Rosamund, you have a rare gift—a miraculous power to heal—and I would
be grateful for your assistance. I have a friend in London who is very sick—”

In a fury, I stopped and swung Rose behind me, putting myself between the two. “Rose, go find Mother. I will meet you in a moment.”

She pressed my shoulder with concern but made no protest. She headed down the hallway, and Mr. Braddock began to follow until I blocked his path, glaring at him.

“Mr. Braddock. My sister is a talented nurse. I don’t know whether you’re trying to mock or deceive her with this miraculous
power
nonsense, but I suggest you take
your brooding act and odd fixations elsewhere. You and that man have obviously upset her—now leave Rose in peace.”

His eyes flashed fire, and I found myself thinking for the briefest moment that Mr. Braddock’s behavior might not be an act. He strained a smile. “Your . . . interest is most
appreciated, but this matter doesn’t concern you.”

He attempted to brush by me, but I sidestepped with him and drew myself up, annoyed to see that he was one of the few men my height had little effect on.

“Unfortunately, you don’t get to decide that.”

“Miss Wyndham, I
will
speak to her, with or without your leave.”

“Of all the outrageous, presumptuous things to say—” But this time I was the one cut off as he gave a curt bow and turned, striding down the corridor toward the gardens and, I
hoped, off a nearby cliff. Good riddance.

Exhausted from the whole horrible evening, I hurried back to find Rose before Robert could. Somehow, I managed to grab her, then hurried Mother and Father along to the carriage with no more than
a hasty good-bye to a poor, perspiring Robert, who no doubt desired a tête-à-tête with his newly confirmed love.

During the ride home, I clutched Rose’s hand, considering the feasibility of never letting go, to keep her from danger, particularly the odious Mr. Braddock. I tried to put him out of my
mind. He didn’t even deserve the thought. He
will
speak to her, he says! The nerve. I shouldn’t have even responded to him. A man that eager for attention needs to be avoided,
ignored. He was sorely mistaken if he thought I would let my sister near his pretense and folly. While I contemplated murder, Mother listed off the evening’s many eligible men,
“especially Mr. Braddock,” she fluted, eyes digging into me.

A hand squeeze and an inquisitive look from Rose brought my mistake with Robert back to mind. What a mess this evening had turned out to be. I gave her a halfhearted smile, and she nodded. We
both knew there was much to discuss. After bidding good night to our parents, I changed into my nightgown and sneaked back downstairs like a recalcitrant child.

Rose entered the musty library moments after me, but before I could ask what the large man and Mr. Braddock had been about, she spoke with a melancholy sigh. “Oh, Evelyn! The poor man,
Felix Cheval, just wanted my help!”

“The giant?”

“He was looking for me! Apparently, talk of my nursing reached him all the way in London,” she said, blushing and pacing about the room. I couldn’t help but feel a rush of
pride for my talented sister. “He has a sick sister in town. He has spoken to many doctors and is quite desperate.”

“Enough to sneak into a ball, it seems. But how did Mr. Braddock get involved? They certainly seemed to know each other.”

Rose nodded. “Indeed. Mr. Cheval found me as I paused from dancing, and asked to speak to me somewhere quieter. We were having a perfectly comfortable conversation until Mr. Braddock
stormed in and ordered him out of the house, as you heard. They must have some kind of acquaintance.”

Given that they seemed to be at odds with each other, I briefly found myself trying to choose a side. Mr. Cheval was simply an exceptionally large man with a sick sister, while Mr. Braddock, on
the other hand, was rude, overbearing, and maddening. But they’d both been doing strange things throughout the evening. I shook away the thoughts. What mattered was Rose’s peace of
mind.