The Girl in the Mask (29 page)

‘In the morning?’ I asked, looking sharply at her. ‘Why should I wear such a fine gown in the morning?’

‘Oh, no, Miss, my mistake,’ said Dawes hurriedly. Her hands shook under my gaze and the powder pot she was holding slipped out of her hand, spilling powder onto the carpet. ‘Oh, dear me, how clumsy I am!’ she cried.

‘Dawes,’ I said sternly as she scrabbled to clear up the mess, ‘why will I need this gown in the morning?’

She shook her head at me, and flushed deeper red. ‘Tell me now,’ I said, ‘or I shall tell my father you’ve been helping me escape from the house at night.’

‘Oh, no, Miss, I never did … you wouldn’t!’ she gasped. ‘I’d lose my place!’

Tears started to her eyes, but I told myself she was keeping things secret from me and hardened my heart. ‘Your wed-wedding, Miss,’ stuttered Dawes. ‘It’s your wedding in the morning, b-but your father made me swear not to tell you. You’re to wear this as your bride gown!’ She pulled a pocket handkerchief out and dabbed at her eyes. I turned from her. I felt nothing. I was numb. When she handed me the last part of my costume, I stared dully at it.

‘A pomegranate,’ I said flatly, weighing the fruit in my hand. ‘The very fruit Hades used to trap Persephone in the underworld.’ I descended the stairs, allowed the footman to wrap my white cloak around my shoulders and left the house as though in a dream. Or perhaps a nightmare would be more appropriate. I was halfway to the Guildhall before I came to my senses. I needed to get away tonight, before it was too late. It was my last chance. I imagined riding away from the Bath, free at last, and my heart leapt. I would find an opportunity, I was certain of it.

It wasn’t until we climbed out of the sedan chairs into the crush of arrivals at the masquerade that I saw my father’s costume. He was clad entirely in green, the stiffly whale-boned skirts of his new brocade coat standing out fashionably from his body. His waistcoat was embroidered with greens and blues to portray seaweed, and his mask had been fashioned to match. Only the lace at his throat and wrists was foaming white like the crests of waves. In his hand he carried the three-pronged fork of Poseidon. It was a fitting costume: the dark and brooding brother of Zeus, banished to rule the murky depths of the ocean.

My aunt was attired in cream and gold, as Demeter, a sheaf of wheat carried in her arms. It was a beautiful gown, though a deal fewer buttered rolls during our stay at the Bath would have allowed it to fall on slenderer lines.

Hades, wreathed in black with a mask to match, approached us as soon as we entered the ballroom. I didn’t need to hear his voice to know it was Captain Mould. He was my doom. But for me, unlike the real Persephone, there would be no six-month reprieve each year to enjoy the summer. I would be condemned to spend my whole life in the underworld.

The ballroom of the Guildhall was a sea of costumes; the identity of people known to me all summer by sight at least, hidden by hundreds of masks. If my mood had been different, I should have thought it exciting. As it was, I found it strangely intimidating.

I had no choice but to accept Hades as my partner for the first dance. I went through the steps in silence, keeping as much distance from him as possible. He didn’t observe a like silence, however. ‘What a very elegant gown, Miss Williams,’ he said with meaning. ‘I look forward to seeing it again soon.’

My stomach lurched as he spoke, remembering what Dawes had told me. It was true then. When had my father planned to let me know? When I woke up tomorrow perhaps?

‘Ah yes, tomorrow will be a great day, Miss Williams,’ continued the captain. His eyes glittered eerily behind his mask, making him appear more sinister than ever. ‘A new beginning in more ways than one. You will awake to a new world; a cleansed world. It will be a new start.’

I stared, wondering what he meant. His words seemed to imply more than just our marriage. What did he mean by cleansing? I frowned, trying to read his expression, but it was hidden behind his mask.

At the end of the dance, Captain Mould kissed my hand and requested another. But before I could either accept or refuse, another masked man approached, dressed all in black and gold.

‘Ah no, Hades, you shall not have the beautiful Persephone all to yourself!’ he said, his voice mocking. ‘That is not how it works. You have her only for a season and then must let her go.’ He bowed to me and offered his arm. ‘Will the daughter of Demeter dance with the winged messenger?’

He indicated his shoes: they bore the gold wings of the messenger of the gods. I curtsied, smiling. ‘Persephone would be honoured, Hermes,’ I replied.

Captain Mould gripped my elbow, and spoke low to Hermes. ‘Just remember, my friend: you may borrow her, but she is bound for all eternity to return to me.’

Neither of us said anything to this. Hermes merely bowed slightly before leading me away. I felt sick. ‘Are you engaged to be married?’ asked Hermes as soon as we were out of earshot.

I bit my lip. ‘I’ve not been informed of it, Mr Charleton,’ I replied, for I’d known his voice at once. ‘But my maid let something slip earlier. I believe I’m to be married in the morning.’

‘It’s outrageous!’ he said quietly, his voice full of anger. ‘Damn, you’re just a child, and he’s an old stick. A retired captain. Those costumes are some kind of a sick joke; Hades capturing Persephone! What is your father thinking of?’

‘Simply of getting me off his hands,’ I replied. ‘By any means possible.’

Mr Charleton pressed my hand comfortingly as he led me into the dance. ‘The rumour is your father’s been playing deep and is in debt to our friend Hades. Is that correct?’

‘I believe so,’ I told him honestly. ‘But I know very little. I’ve been locked in the house for days.’

He nodded. ‘I know.’

We couldn’t speak again for several moments. When we turned at the bottom of the room, he took my hand and whisked me away from the other dancing couples to where the tables were laid out behind screens for supper later. I followed him behind the end screen where he took both my hands in his and leaned close.

‘Thank you, Sophia,’ he said. ‘For the papers. You did the right thing.’

‘I hope so,’ I told him. His face looked strange, half-concealed behind the dark mask. ‘It was my friend Jenny who retrieved them.’

‘I know. I’ve been able to thank her in person.’

‘Is she safe?’ I asked eagerly.

He nodded. ‘She’s with Allen. His housekeeper’s taking good care of her. Now, have you heard anything new, managed to intercept any notes since then?’

I shook my head sadly. ‘I’ve been locked in, watched, and my aunt has been my chaperone,’ I told him. ‘Whatever is going on, she’s not had a chance to do anything in the last days. Sir, what
is
going on?’

Mr Charleton leaned forward and whispered in my ear: ‘A rebellion is being planned, Sophia. You could even call it a revolution. Beginning right here in the west; in the Bath. Something major, for we have intercepted letters about movement of arms and soldiers from France. The city is as full as it can hold of rebels, horses and weapons, and all the leaders are assembled here. The aim is to overthrow the government, depose the king and crown the Pretender in his place. But that can’t be achieved by peaceful means.’

I could feel my heart beating fast with excitement at this news. So much at stake, and I’d had a hand in it, however clumsy and mistaken. ‘How do you know all this?’ I asked breathlessly, aware we might be interrupted at any moment, and I would lose my chance to hear more. ‘What part do you play?’

Mr Charleton moved back from me, covertly watching the ballroom from the edge of the screen. ‘I work secretly for the king and government,’ he said softly.

‘Like Aphra Behn!’ I whispered. ‘You’re a spy!’

Mr Charleton was looking around the edge of the screen, and suddenly caught his breath. ‘Sophia, our friend Hades has just given your aunt a note. I need to know what it says. As soon as possible. She’s putting it … in her reticule.’

I nodded, my eyes lighting with excitement behind my mask. Then I remembered the captain’s words: ‘Mr Charleton, could they be planning something for tonight? He said … ’ I frowned trying to remember the words. ‘He said something like tomorrow will be
a new beginning in more ways than one. You will awake to a new world; a cleansed world. It will be a new start
.’

Mr Charleton’s eyes were on me, though his expression was hidden behind that enigmatic black-and-gold mask. ‘Sophia, go,’ he said urgently. ‘Get that note for me, but make sure you’re not detected. I’ll come and find you when you have it.’

‘Do you have a piece of paper I can have?’ I asked him. Understanding a part of my plan at once, he pulled a tablet from his coat pocket, tore a sheet from it and gave it to me.

I stepped out into the ballroom again and began threading my way through the crowd towards Aunt Amelia. The edges of the ballroom were tightly packed with people chatting and watching the dancers. It was slow work to get through them. To my surprise, several gentlemen stopped me and asked me to dance with them. My costume was clearly a success. And clearly also a good disguise, since most of the men now asking would normally not come near me. I smiled to myself, refused them all politely and finally reached my aunt’s side, holding the folded paper in the palm of my hand. My heart was beating fast with the thrill of the task I’d been given: I was a real spy, like the famous Aphra Behn herself.

‘Sophia, where have you been?’ my aunt asked. ‘The captain is looking for you.’

‘I’m sorry,’ I said, holding my hand to my head and feigning dizziness. ‘But I don’t seem to be feeling very well. In fact, I … ’ I collapsed. As I did so, I hooked one finger into the drawstring of her reticule at her wrist.

There is no way to fall either elegantly or modestly wearing a hoop. I fear quite a number of the gentlemen in the room caught a glimpse of my stockings and possibly more. But I succeeded in both my aims: firstly the drawstring of my aunt’s reticule snapped and it fell off her wrist, scattering its contents onto the ballroom floor. Secondly my aunt was so shocked and humiliated by my making such a spectacle of myself that she shrieked, cast her wheat sheaf aside and attempted to tug me to my feet rather than gathering her things. I made myself limp and lay like a dead weight on the floor.

‘Wake up, Sophia!’ she cried, bending over me. Peeping under my lashes, I saw her grab her smelling salts. Uncorking them, she thrust the phial under my nose. I choked and feigned waking, confused. As I sat up, I rested my hand on top of the slip of paper that had fallen from her reticule. It was almost done. I just needed a momentary distraction to make my aunt look away from me. Mr Charleton provided it: ‘Is Persephone quite well?’ enquired his calm voice somewhere above me.

Aunt Amelia looked up at him, and I caught the piece of folded paper up in my hand and dropped the other onto the floor in its place. It was the work of an instant. By the time my aunt looked back at me, I was already attempting to rise.

‘Allow me,’ said Mr Charleton, taking one of my hands in his, and slipping his free arm about my waist. He lifted me easily to my feet, and supported me there a moment. I leaned against him as though still faint, and felt him take the paper unobtrusively from me. He then took my fan from my wrist and began to fan me gently. ‘It’s very crowded and overheated in here, Persephone,’ he was saying. ‘I’m not surprised you were overcome. You’ll be better directly.’

My aunt was picking up the contents of her reticule, stuffing them back in; the note was the first thing she retrieved. With luck she would pass it on without noticing it was now a blank piece of paper.

Mr Charleton found me a chair by the wall and handed me into it. ‘You seem better now,’ he said. ‘I’ll leave you to the care of your aunt.’

He left my side, and was soon lost in the crowd. I didn’t see where he disappeared to, for my aunt was fussing about the dust on my white gown. ‘Look! Just look at this mark!’ she wailed. I twisted about and looked obediently. ‘Oh, Aunt,’ I sighed. ‘It’s nothing that won’t come out with a little brushing.’

‘Fainting on the floor of the ballroom!’ she exclaimed tearfully. ‘You will always be doing something shocking, Sophia! It’s lucky for you your father wasn’t here to witness your behaviour!’

‘But indeed, I couldn’t help feeling ill!’ I exclaimed. ‘Where
is
father?’ I asked, looking around for him.

‘In the card room playing at ombre with the captain,’ said my aunt with a frown. ‘I’ve warned him, but he won’t listen to me.’

‘Warned him about what, Aunt?’ I asked, thinking it was ironic if my aunt had warned my father against playing at cards when she did little else herself.

‘Against playing with the captain,’ said my aunt, unusually forthcoming. ‘Like Beau Nash, it’s how he supports himself. You don’t think he lives in such style on his army pension, do you? Only, unlike the Beau, he has no kindness in him. He does not hesitate to ruin fools who would game away their fortune.’

She stopped abruptly as Beau Nash himself arrived to enquire how I did after being taken ill. Aunt Amelia, greatly discomposed at having almost been caught speaking disrespectfully of the great man, blushed. I rose and curtseyed, however, and assured Mr Nash that I was very well now.

‘Please do not risk dancing again tonight, Miss Williams,’ the Beau begged. ‘It will not do to have young ladies fainting away at the Bath balls.’

‘I promise you I won’t, sir,’ I assured him. He bowed and turned to my aunt, engaging her in polite conversation. I took the opportunity to slip away and searched for Mr Charleton. But among all the bright and exotic costumes in the ballroom, I could no longer see the black and gold mask, nor the gold-winged shoes. My aunt was still talking, and my father and the captain apparently still busy gambling. It was time for me to go.

I would like to have found out what was in the note. I should like to have spoken to Mr Charleton one more time. But it was not to be. I walked quietly from the room, went down the grand staircase, collected my cloak and left the building. No one tried to stop me, no one appeared even to notice that I was leaving. I couldn’t believe my good fortune.