A Season of Masks and Masquerades

Chapter 20: A Day Out With Lord Richcomb

"My word!" Esther sighed as she walked into their parlor where Lady Sherborne was surveying two exceptionally beautiful ball gowns. "Those are some beautiful fabrics."

"Don't you agree, my dear? I'm extremely impressed by Madame DeRose's artistry."

"Indeed." Esther agreed and walked ahead to feel the velvet in her fingers.

"Do you prefer the green or the red?" Lady Sherborne asked lifting the ribbons of both colors in her hands.

"Mmm." She mused placing both the ribbons on her bare wrist to test colors. "Green over red."

"I was almost certain you'd pick the green. We can reserve the red for some other day."

Esther proceeded to examine the jewels as she asked, "What are these preparations being made for, mother?"

"The Grand Society Ball, of course. What else?" Lady Sherborne snapped.

"Ah."

Esther was hardly over the drama and troubles she went through the previous evening at the Season's Opening Ball. It was too early and exhausting for her to start thinking about another similar evening to be spent among similar unpleasant faces.

"Which reminds me," added Lady Sherborne, directing all her attention to Esther, "has The Duke yet asked you to be his partner for the evening? For if he has, you must tell me at once."

"For the Grand Society Ball? No, of course not and why would he?"

"Why else?" Lady Sherborne replied the question with another question.

"Mother. He has not and I doubt he will at all if I must tell you with all honesty." She declared however she felt a slight variation in the words she spoke and her true beliefs. For a second thought, he might.

"He will. You know he will." Lady Sherborne said and turned back to the dresses. "Perhaps he has already, you are just too dishonest with your mother lately."

"It's a pity you doubt my honesty mother, but if you are so suspicious, you may just ask him yourself. By all means." Esther sighed falling on a loveseat in defeat. "Moreover, it hardly matters. We are capable enough of obtaining our own invites, are we not?"

"It is certainly not a matter of our capability, my dear. This is about The Duke. I am sure he will desire you go with him, if you bluntly tell him that you are capable enough of obtaining an invite, he shall be highly discouraged to invite you whic-"

"Mother!" Esther exclaimed and cut her off. "You are thinking it a bit too much."

"And so should you." Lady Sherborne sang sweetly. "My dear, love is a complicated emotion and one only realizes it when it's too late."

"For goodness, mother. Love is a far cry. He is hardly interested in me if you must know. We only danced one dance together. I have danced more waltz with Lord Gardiner."

"Well, one might say Lord Gardiner is in love with you." Lady Sherborne shrugged with a smile in her eyes.

Esther chuckled densely. "You surely are not able to differentiate between infatuation and love."

"Infatuation turns into love in the blink of an eye, my dear." Lady Sherborne stated firmly.

"It may," Esther said standing back up on her feet, too done with this unyielding conversation. "but just so you have no doubts or expectations, The Duke and I have nothing to do with any such emotions. If at all, he should have been here at this moment showering my drawing room with flowers, reciting deep poetry about love and eternity. That is what infatuation or perhaps, love, looks like. At least Lord Gardiner has done that, more than once."