Midnight Masquerade

Of Brothers, Taverns, and Unexpected Encounters

The soft glow of dawn filtered through the lace curtains of Evelina's room as the morning bell chimed faintly in the distance. She stirred, waking from restless dreams that had been plagued by images of Arabella and her brother, Henry. The memory of last night weighed heavy on her chest, and she knew that avoiding Henry today would be impossible.

Her handmaiden, Mary, entered quietly, carrying a delicate breakfast tray. "Good morning, Lady Evelina. Shall we begin preparations for the day?"

Evelina sighed and nodded, pushing the thoughts of Arabella aside, at least for now. Mary began by brushing through her long, dark hair, her hands gentle but firm. As Evelina stared at her reflection, she couldn't help but feel a creeping sense of unease. The events of last night still felt too close, too raw.

"Is everything all right, my lady?" Mary asked, noticing Evelina's distracted expression.

"I'm fine," Evelina replied quickly, though the tightness in her voice betrayed her. "Just...thinking about everything that needs to be done today."

Mary didn't press further, instead beginning the intricate task of tightening Evelina's corset. Evelina took a deep breath as the stays were pulled tighter, feeling the familiar constriction. It was routine, yet it always made her feel as though she were preparing for battle. After the corset came the gown—rich blue satin trimmed with delicate lace that clung to her waist and flowed elegantly to the floor.

"You look lovely, my lady," Mary said with a satisfied smile as she adjusted the last ribbon on Evelina's dress.

Before Evelina could respond, the door to her room burst open, and Henry strode in, his usual rakish grin plastered across his face. "Ah, perfect! I was just about to send Mary to fetch you," he said, completely ignoring the look of surprise on his sister's face. "Come with me today, Evelina. I have plans."

"Henry!" Evelina turned, pulling herself away from the handmaiden's hands. "You could at least knock."

Her brother's grin didn't falter. "No need for that between family, is there?" He came closer, resting a hand on the back of the chair beside her vanity. "I thought we could spend the day together. A change of scenery would do us both good."

She stiffened, remembering Arabella and the night before. "I'm not in the mood for your company, Henry. After what you—"

"I know, I know," Henry interrupted, holding up a hand in mock surrender. "I'm in disgrace, but come on, Evie, give me a chance to make up for it. Just for today."

Evelina hesitated. The last thing she wanted was to be dragged along on one of Henry's reckless whims, but a small voice in the back of her mind reminded her that spending the day together might keep him out of trouble—and keep Arabella far away from him.

"Fine," she said, her voice clipped. "But I am not tolerating any nonsense, Henry."

"Splendid!" Henry clapped his hands together, entirely too pleased with himself. "Come along, then."

Evelina followed him downstairs, her mood still sour despite her agreement to join him. As they exited the house and climbed into Henry's waiting carriage, she turned to him suspiciously. "Where exactly are we going?"

"You'll see soon enough," Henry replied with a sly grin.

The ride was short, but as the carriage came to a stop, Evelina's eyes widened in horror. They had pulled up outside a busy tavern, the kind frequented by men and sailors, far from the refined establishments of the ton.

"Henry, absolutely not," Evelina said firmly, refusing to leave the carriage. "I will not be seen stepping foot into a tavern like this. What on earth are you thinking?"

Henry sighed dramatically, opening the door to the carriage. "Oh, come off it, Evie. It's just a bit of fun. You could use some excitement in your life."

"Excitement? I'm not about to ruin my reputation because you think it's amusing!" Evelina shot back, crossing her arms. "This is no place for a lady."

Her brother, clearly growing impatient, grabbed her hand and tugged her out of the carriage. "Don't be such a bore! No one cares. Besides, no one will even recognize you."

Evelina gasped as he yanked her inside. The smell of ale and smoke hit her immediately, and she winced. "Henry, this is utterly inappropriate—"

Her protests were cut short when her eyes landed on a familiar figure sitting in the dim corner of the tavern. Alistair Blackwood. He was leaning back in his chair, holding a half-full glass of amber liquid, his piercing blue eyes fixed on the fire burning in the hearth.

Evelina froze mid-sentence, her heart stuttering in her chest. Of all the people to encounter here, why *him*?

Henry followed her gaze and chuckled. "Ah, Alistair's here. Excellent."

Evelina turned to him, eyes wide. "You know him?"

Henry looked at her, confused. "Of course, I do. We've been friends for years. Didn't I mention that?"

"No, Henry, you *did not* mention that," Evelina hissed under her breath, trying to regain her composure. "You and Lord Blackwood are friends?"

Henry grinned and waved over a tavern servant to fetch more drinks. "Best of friends. Come on, Evie, let me introduce you properly."

Evelina barely had time to protest before Henry was dragging her across the room. Her heart raced as they approached Alistair, who seemed to notice them only as they drew near. He raised an eyebrow, his expression unreadable, though his bright blue eyes remained fixed on hers for a brief, disconcerting moment.

"Alistair, my man!" Henry clapped him on the shoulder, breaking the silence. "This is my dear sister, Evelina. I believe you two met briefly at the Queen's luncheon."

Alistair nodded politely, but his usual distance was palpable. "Lady Evelina," he said, his voice low and formal. His blue eyes met hers for the briefest of moments, sending a strange shiver down her spine.

"Lord Blackwood," Evelina replied, her voice more controlled than she felt. There was a tension between them that she couldn't quite place, something that hadn't been there before.

Henry, oblivious to the subtle tension, grinned and plopped down at the table. "Evelina didn't believe this was a suitable place for a lady, but I told her no one would mind."

Alistair's gaze flicked briefly to Evelina before returning to his drink. "Your sister is quite right, Sinclair. This is hardly the place for a woman of her standing."

"Ah, don't be such a stiff, Alistair," Henry replied, laughing. "It's all in good fun."

Evelina shot her brother a glare. "I told you this was a bad idea. If anyone from society saw us here—"

"Relax," Henry waved her off. "No one here is going to talk. And even if they do, we'll handle it."

But Alistair didn't seem amused. He set down his glass and stood, his tall frame towering over the table. "Lady Evelina's concerns are valid, Henry. It would be wise to take her elsewhere before anyone notices."

Evelina watched him carefully, unsure whether to be grateful for his intervention or irritated by his cold detachment. There was something unnerving about the way he spoke, the way his gaze lingered on her for just a second too long.

Henry sighed dramatically, clearly disappointed that his plan had been foiled. "Very well. But you, Alistair, owe me a proper drink next time."

Alistair inclined his head. "I'll hold you to it."

As Henry grumbled and led Evelina out of the tavern, she stole one last glance at Alistair. He caught her gaze just as they reached the door, nodding in acknowledgment. Evelina, unsure of what to make of the strange encounter, forced herself to give him a polite smile. But she couldn't shake the feeling that something had shifted between them, something she couldn't quite understand.

As they left, Evelina noticed the curious stares of other patrons. The whispers were starting, she could feel it.