Chapter Ten – Without Judgement
Dressed in his finest, a simple mask covering half his face, Tristan climbed the steps to the earl’s townhouse. By his side, Derek stood tall, his shoulders back as he met his peers for the first time as an equal. However, having known his friend for many years, Tristan saw the almost imperceptible signs that Derek was beyond uncomfortable.
His jaw was slightly clenched, tension held his shoulders rather rigid and he drew in the occasional deep breath, forcing his chest not to lift too much to avoid betraying his innermost emotions to the rest of the world.
“This is a masked ball.” Leaning over, Tristan spoke with a chuckle. “You’re not meeting the hangman at dawn.”
Derek’s dark eyes momentarily shifted to the side and met Tristan’s gaze, annoyance clearly visible. “At least one of us is amused,” he observed dryly, his lips thinning below the lower rim of his mask.
Ignoring his friend’s dark mood, Tristan strode into the large ballroom, his eyes sweeping over a sea of masks, some colourfully and ornately done while others were as simple as his own. As the music played, couples streamed onto the dance floor, their smiling faces in steep contrast to the scowl on Derek’s face as he stood beside him, motionless as though waiting for the firing squad to end his life.
“Would you smile?” Tristan prompted, shaking his head. “No woman will ever agree to marry you if you scowl at her all the time.”
Derek merely scoffed, his expression unaltered.
Tristan took a deep breath, doing his best not to get annoyed with his friend’s attitude. “If you would simply meet them without judgement,” Tristan whispered, “you would find that there are a few genuinely nice people in this room. Not everyone judges you for your background, and neither should you judge them for being born into upper society.”
Beside him, Derek took a deep breath, and slowly, the tension in his shoulders subsided. “I suppose there is merit to your words.”
Tristan sighed, a triumphant smile coming to his face. “Good,” he beamed. “I’m glad you see it that way. Now,” he turned back toward the large room, his eyes scanning the crowd, “there you see the Duke and Duchess of Kensington. They’re nice people, honest and kind. I’ve made their acquaintance recently through a mutual friend. As far as I know, the duchess is the niece of a baron and was not looked upon with favour because her mother, the baron’s sister, had married below her station and thus the family broke with them. Since her marriage to the duke, however, people have come to see that she is indeed deserving of their respect and good opinion.”
Derek cleared his throat in disapproval. “It’s a shame people are unable or unwilling to see the true nature of someone’s character unless there’s another incentive.”
“I agree,” Tristan said, sensing a touch of compassion in his friend’s bearing as though he had suddenly found a connection to the upper class he had always considered the enemy. “However, you see that you are not the only one who has found himself on the outskirts of society, only to be received within their midst later. Ah, there.” Again, Tristan pointed at a young red-haired woman, walking on the arm of her husband. “The Duke and Duchess of Cromwell. She is the friend I mentioned earlier, who introduced me to the Duke and Duchess of Kensington. I’ve known her for years as she is a close friend of my sister. She, too, grew up as a merchant’s daughter and was shunned from higher society for most of her life until she married and became a duchess.” Seeing the scowl on Derek’s face darken, Tristan wondered if it was indeed a good idea to point out his friend’s fellow sufferers.
“Such hypocrisy!” Derek mumbled angrily. “Most people do deserve better than this.”
Tristan smiled. “We do not yet live in a world where we’re merely judged by our deeds. Other factors are still important as well. Sometimes even more important. Whether you think this fair or not does not matter. This is the way the world works.” He turned to Derek. “However, if you’re determined, you can always do your best to make the changes you wish to see in others. After all, it must start somewhere. Be a good example, and maybe others will follow.”
The left corner of Derek’s mouth twitched as his eyes held Tristan’s gaze, a spark of awe shining in them. “You can be quite compelling if you choose to put your mind to it.”
Tristan frowned. “I’m not entirely certain if this is a compliment or an insult.”
“A compliment,” Derek said, his eyes shifting back to the dancing couples before them, “as well as an encouragement to live up to it.”
Tristan laughed, “Ever the instructor.” Sighing, he shook his head. “Be that as it may, I’m glad I managed to open your eyes to the opportunity presented to you. Make the best of it. Growling from a distance will not change the world.”
Derek snorted, the muscles in his jaw softening.
“I’m relieved you find this amusing,” Tristan commented, then once more turned back to the crowd, hoping to be somewhat of assistance to his friend for a change. “There, by the refreshment table, that is Lord Braxton, the earl’s son, and beside him,” Tristan hesitated, then squinted his eyes, “I suppose that is Lady Adelaide although I must admit I’ve never seen her in such a flamboyant dress before. She is usually rather shy and does not like to draw attention to herself.”
“Husband-hunting,” Derek grumbled, a touch of disapproval in his tone.
“Must be. Although I would never have thought her to be the kind to state her intentions so directly.” Shrugging, Tristan turned to look at his friend, about to suggest Derek go and ask Lady Adelaide for a dance when he found his friend’s eyes fixed on someone else. Following his gaze, Tristan grinned. “I’d advise against her.”
“What?” Clearing his throat, Derek blinked, his eyes reluctantly shifting from the dark-haired woman twirling around the dance floor.
“That is Lady Madeline, daughter of the Earl of Carlton,” Tristan explained, unable to keep the wide grin off his face. “She certainly is a vision; however, unfortunately, her expectations regarding her future husband are not easily met.”
Frowning, Derek turned to look at him, unable to keep curiosity from showing in his eyes. “Expectations?”
Tristan laughed, delighted to see his friend’s stern exterior crumbling…at least for the moment. “She’s already quite famous for refusing marriage proposals. As the daughter of an earl, she has vowed not to marry below her station, meaning anyone below the rank of an earl need not bother to ask for her hand.” Shaking his head, he laughed. “There are a number of bets held at White’s about whether she will marry at all, and if so, who will be the lucky…or maybe unlucky…sod.”
Derek drew in a deep breath, but did not reply. Instead, his eyes returned to the young lady with the ebony hair as she enjoyed the evening, dancing one dance after the other.
With his friend distracted, Tristan found himself looking over the crowd, hoping to catch a young lady’s gaze. Was his future wife at this ball tonight? Was she hiding behind one of these masks? If only he knew. Not knowing made him nervous, fearing that she would walk past him, and he would not even notice.
“Tristan?”
Tensing at the familiar voice, Tristan took a deep breath, then slowly turned around. “Your Grace,” he mumbled, greeting the Duchess of Cromwell with a slight bow. “I see you’re well.”
Laughing, she shook her head, her red curls dancing as though to the music. “Oh, Tristan, don’t be so formal. Call me Anna. After all, we’ve known each other for years.”
“As you wish,” he mumbled, unable to meet her eyes. Although he liked her dearly, she always reminded him of his sister. The two of them had been inseparable until Anna had married the duke. After that, their relationship had changed although Tristan could not say what had happened.
Whenever he met her these days, it always took Tristan a moment to grow re-accustomed with her presence. “How is your little girl?” he asked, remembering that Anna had given birth only a few months ago.
“She’s wonderful,” his sister’s friend replied, a warm glow coming to her eyes as she spoke of her daughter. “She truly is the light of my life, and whenever I’m not with her, I miss her terribly.”
Tristan smiled. “Even now?”
Grinning sheepishly, Anna nodded. “I cannot help it. However, I assure you it does not reflect on your skills as a conversationalist.” A question hung in the air, and her eyes looked into his, searching.
“That is good to know,” Tristan mumbled, suddenly feeling uncomfortable again. The way she looked at him reminded him too much of his sister’s gaze whenever she had been worried about him, her questioning gaze running over him as though if she looked hard enough, she could simply read the answers on his face.
“Have you heard from her?” Anna asked without preamble, her emerald eyes holding his.
Tristan took a deep breath, then shook his head. “Not in a long time. I learnt from my uncle that she married a Scot. However, she did not want me at the wedding.”
A frown darkened Anna’s face. “Did she tell you that?”
Again, Tristan shook his head, a spark of anger gripping him. “She asked my uncle to pass on the message. She didn’t even write to me.”
Anna’s eyes narrowed as they slid over his face. “Maybe your uncle misunderstood her,” she said, caution in her voice. She took a deep breath then. “I went to see her before they left for Scotland.”
Tristan’s head snapped up, and he stared at her. “Did she say anything?”
A shadow crossed over Anna’s face. “Although I think she was glad to see me, she acted as though she wasn’t. I asked about her betrothal, but she barely said a word. I think she was scared, Tristan. You know how she feels about marriage, and she never wanted to get married.”
“Then, why did she?”
“Because your uncle threatened to send her from his house if she didn’t agree.”
“What?” Tristan’s eyes bulged. “He wouldn’t. We’re family.” As soon as the words left his lips, doubt crept into his heart, and he wondered how well he truly knew his uncle. “Then why didn’t she come to me? I would have helped her.”
“I know,” Anna assured him, then shrugged. “I cannot say why she agreed to the marriage nor why she did not seek help from us. All I know is that there is something that is keeping her from placing her trust in others.”
Tristan gritted his teeth. He could not remember a moment when his sister had not been strong. Always determined. Always in control. “Do you know anything about the man she married?”
Anna shook her head. “Only that he is a Scot and a marquis. Apparently, he came upon her when she was practising in the woods−”
“Practising?”
Anna’s eyes widened meaningfully as she looked at him.
“Oh, I see. She was,” his voice dropped to a whisper, “fencing.”
Anna nodded. “She was. She was dressed in your clothes, but somehow, he knew she was a woman. She didn’t give him her name, but he promised he would find her. And he did.”
“Does he care for her?”
“I don’t know,” Anna admitted. “But from the way she spoke, there was nothing threatening about him. Although she wouldn’t admit it, I do believe that he was taken with her. Not to insult your sister, but why would he ask for her hand otherwise? After all, she has a fairly rude manner in dealing with gentlemen.”
Tristan nodded, hope in his heart. “Maybe she’ll be happy with him.”
“I can only hope so.”