Aaron felt like there was tension in the house from every angle. He could hear Wesley and Lola speaking heatedly in the room down the hall from him. Gwendolyn was throwing a fit about the costume she wanted to wear, apparently changing her mind at the last moment. Shauna had taken it upon herself to speak to their daughter, and he thought that was currently the best course of action, given Gwendolyn's mood.
He was acutely aware of the fact that he would have no idea how to deal with such an emotional fit. He hadn't been around much since she was born, and although she loved her father, she was bonded with her mother.
He had missed so much because of his lifestyle, his choices, and it was only now, in the rougher moments, that he realized what an impact that made on a child; on their family. Shauna had been alone in all of this, when she deserved the best.
He was determined not to miss this ball for anything. This was his one chance to have a normal evening with them.
So when he picked up his mask and found his hands shaking, he growled in frustration
Sticking his head out of the door, he called down the hallway.
“Annabelle?” he called. There was a pause, and then his sister stuck her head out of her bedroom. She was fully dressed, her hair piled on her head and a coronet in her golden blonde halo.
The coronet was for the Lady Bamber, which should have been Shauna. He only glanced at it for a moment, before waving his mask.
“Can you help me?” he asked.
“Alright,” Annabelle crossed the hallway, her ball gown trailing on the floor. She was radiant, healthy and strong, what he should have been.
Entering her twin's room, she took the mask into her hands, looking at the way it tied.
“Hmm,” she said. “Are you worrying about it brushing the base of your skull?” she said, knowing impact there could sometimes cause a fit, if it was at the right angle.
“Not particularly,” he said, dropping his head as she moved behind him. “Just...not steady at the moment.”
“So should you be going?” she asked.
“Even if you had to carry me in on a stretcher,” he answered. “I will have Shauna on my arm and Gwendolyn at my side.”
“No, you won't,” she said.
“Sorry?” he asked, confused.
“Your wife is a widow of high ranking, and she can't be escorted by an unknown man without everyone asking questions.”
“Ugh, I didn't think of that,” he admitted, angry at himself. “So they'll go separate and we will speak during the ball?”
“Not too much,” she said, pausing as she tied it. “There, is that alright?”
“Wonderful,” he answered, even though it wasn't particularly. His head was throbbing, but he assumed that was just the string. “Are we almost all ready? You look like a monkey, by the way.”
“Thank you, brother,” she said, used to his fairly childish insults. In many ways, nothing had changed since they were children. “We're almost all ready, yes. You, Wesley and Lola will go in the unmarked carriage. Make sure you have a fake name ready.”
“Of course,” he said. “You think I haven't been sneaking around these past few years.”
“Harold is over worried about how dangerous this is,” Annabelle said. “He's on edge, but I'm sure he'll calm down once he sees how everything will run smoothly.”
“If not, I'm sure between him and Wesley, they'll come up with a plan that will go down in the history books.”
“Right, you're all ready then.”
“Thank you, Sister,” he said, with a grin. “What do you think? Do I look like the red death?”
“Is that what you're supposed to be?” she asked, looking him up and down. “You look....sure,” she decided. “I'm sure everyone will know exactly what you are.”
“You're a wonderful liar,” he said.
It only took another half hour before everyone was assembled down stairs. Gwendolyn had settled on a black dress with the cat mask after all. The others wore a range of half masks, or hand held masks. Only Aaron's mask fully obscured his face, leaving his eyes scanning the room.
“What's your character name?” Lola asked Aaron, as they got into the carriage “How will they introduce you?”
“Could I not be Captain Halloway?” he asked, the name he used on the pirate ship.
“No,” Wesley replied, giving him a look.
“Letts,” he said at last. “Captain Jonah Letts, from Spain.”
“Oh, that's right, you can speak Spanish,” Lola remembered. “Hopefully you don't run into any actual Spaniards.”
“Do you think that will work?”
“It should,” Wesley said. “Just stay quiet, and try not to make eyes at your wife too much.”
“Have you seen my wife?” Aaron asked, and Wesley rolled his eyes.
The palace was in full grandeur for the ball. Everything was decorated to the nines, with candles and tinsel. There was music playing from what appeared to be several different orchestras, and everyone was dressed in splendor. Lola observed several coronets, crowns and people dipping to bow to each other.
It was a world that she didn't know at all, but marrying Wesley meant that she should. Wesley looked uncomfortable, clenching his jaw as the carriage stopped, and the door was thrown open.
Lola had chosen a hand held mask, and didn't bother putting it up as they exited the carriage. Wesley took her arm, helping her out, and she looked around the swirling crowds. She was used to grandeur, but this was far above any theater ball.
“Captain Letts,” she said to Aaron as they approached the footman who would announce them. “Welcome to the palace.”
He dipped his head, but didn't say anything, scanning the room below them.
“Captain Letts of Spain,” bellowed the footman. “Earl and Countess of Rippon!”
Heads turned at that announcement, and Lola could hear whispering.
She leaned over to Wesley as they walked.
“He might as well have said the actress whore,” she said and Wesley squeezed her hand.
“Have some decency,” he said.
“That was putting it decently,” she said, as they got down to the bottom of the stairs.
“Lord and Lady Bamber,” came the announcement, and they turned as their friends were announced.
“Dowager Lady Bamber and the Honorable Gwendolyn Bamber,” came the second announcement.
Heads turned at that. Technically, they were disgraced, the head of the household a traitor. However, there was less judgment for a widow and small child, especially of a title that had been a favorite of the King.
“So far, so good,” Lola said, as the rest of their group joined them. “It looks like we may have managed to pull this off.”
“The night is still young,” Harold said, warily. “But for now, it does appear to have worked. So enjoy the evening.”
“That's permission enough,” Lola linked on to Wesley's arm, dragging him onto the dance floor.
“Lola, I don't---” he said, but she was having none of it. There was no way any husband of hers was not going to dance. “At least let me get a drink first.”
“Fine,” she let go his arm, a smile on her face. “Be quick about it though.”
“Do you want one as well?” he asked, and she shook her head.
“I'm fine,” she said. “I don't need a drink to dance.”
“Oy,” was all he said, leaving her alone on the dance floor a moment.
Lola had considered joining the dance line herself, confident in her ability. She only got about two steps in when she felt a hand on her shoulder.
“That was quick,” she said, turning around. She expected Wesley to be standing behind her with a glass of champagne.
She did not expect a stranger to be standing behind her.
“Countess Rippon?” asked the man behind the mask.
“Uh, yes?” she said. He had a glass of champagne in his hand, and she wondered if Wesley had sent one over. When they were in the colonies, Wesley had overindulged more than once, and she wasn't eager for him to return to that habit. Things had been bad then, and she didn't want them to return to the way they were then.
“Or should I say, Miss Montclair, the great pretender?”
“I'm sorry?” Lola asked, her shoulders tensing. Before she could say anything, the man poured the champagne over her head.
“You don't deserve your title,” he snarled at her. “And you won't have it for long. Remember that.”
Lola shrieked, knowing that she was surrounded by people. However, the man had a mask on that looked like everyone else's, and vanished into the overcrowded room. She was blinded by the champagne in her eyes, and by the time anyone got to her, she had completely lost track of him.
Wesley was at her side in half a moment, having seen the scene from across the room. Still, it took him a moment to get through the crowd, and he had only seen the man from across the room. From the back, he looked absolutely the same as half the men in the room.
“Did you see his face?” he asked Lola, who was sputtering
“No,” she said, brushing her face. “Mask.”
“I'll kill him,” Wesley said, leading her off the dance floor. “I will kill him. What did he say to you?”
“What do you think?” Lola asked. “This is what we've been dealing with.”
“Lola!” Annabelle came to her side, having seen the incident as well. “Oh my goodness! Come this way to clean up. I know where we can go.”
“Are you hurt?” Wesley asked, trying to control his temper. “If he hurt you...”
“Just embarrassed,” she said. “It's alright, Wesley.”
“I will kill him,” Wesley answered, as Annabelle led her away. Harold took Wesley' arm, trying to stop him from quaking.
“Can you identify him?”
“No,” Wesley said. “But maybe if we scan the crowd....”
“Was it premeditated?”
“I don't know, I don't know,” Wesley said. “I mean...”
“You know that this has happened before,” Harold said. “Right now, focus on the good things. Lola is unhurt, and we are in a contained room with lots of witnesses. Everything is going to be alright, we are going to find this man.”
“Right...” Wesley said, scanning the crowd. Then he met eyes across the room with someone that he'd never thought he'd see again. Across the room was his Cousin Tannoy, who was supposed to be dead. Tannoy, his next closest descendant, and the next heir to the Rippon line.