Midnight Masquerade

New Invite

The morning sun filtered through the curtains of Evelina's room, casting a soft glow on the polished wood floors. She sat at her vanity, her gaze distant as her handmaiden, Mary, expertly tightened the laces of her corset. Each pull felt like a reminder of the expectations placed upon her as the Queen's diamond, as if every breath had to be measured, controlled, and perfect.

"Not too tight, Mary," Evelina said, her voice calm but her eyes betraying her unease.

"Of course, my lady," Mary replied, loosening the laces just enough to allow Evelina a bit more comfort.

Evelina exhaled softly, trying to steady her thoughts. Yesterday's trip to the market with Henry had been tense. His reckless behavior always kept her on edge, and his inability to see the potential scandal he could cause frustrated her. The weight of her family's reputation seemed to rest squarely on her shoulders.

"How does it feel now?" Mary asked, smoothing out the fabric of Evelina's gown.

"Better," Evelina nodded, turning slightly in her chair to glance at her reflection. The lavender gown suited her, its soft hue complementing her fair complexion, but it did little to calm her anxieties. As she stood, Mary began helping her into the delicate layers of her dress, the fabric flowing gracefully over the corset.

Just as Evelina was adjusting the sleeves of her gown, a knock echoed at the door.

"Enter," Evelina called.

The door swung open, and Henry sauntered in, a smug grin plastered across his face. He looked far too pleased with himself, as usual.

"Good morning, dear sister," he said, his tone light but with an air of mischief. "Ready for another day of thrilling social obligations?"

Evelina shot him a look, her expression stern. "If by thrilling, you mean exhausting and rife with potential disaster, then yes, I am prepared."

Henry chuckled, leaning against the doorframe. "Oh, Evelina, you wound me. Yesterday's outing wasn't that dreadful, was it?"

She arched an eyebrow at him. "Henry, you dragged me into a tavern. A tavern. Do you have any idea how inappropriate that was? If anyone had seen—"

"They didn't," Henry interrupted, waving a hand dismissively. "No one of consequence was there, and even if they were, who's to say they'd remember?"

Evelina crossed her arms, exasperated. "The ton never forgets anything, Henry. You should know that by now."

He smirked. "And yet here we are, scandal-free. Come, let's put that behind us and enjoy the day. I was thinking we could—"

Before he could finish, their conversation was abruptly cut off by the sound of the front door opening downstairs. A moment later, footsteps echoed through the hallway, growing louder until their mother, Lady Margaret Sinclair, appeared at the door of Evelina's room. In her hand, she held a finely crafted pamphlet, her expression both stern and triumphant.

"There you two are," she said, her voice carrying a mixture of reproach and urgency. "I've been looking for you both."

Henry raised an eyebrow. "Mother, what's all the fuss about?"

Lady Margaret held up the pamphlet, her gaze shifting between her children. "We've been invited to a rather important social event. I trust you understand the significance of this."

Evelina's curiosity piqued as she stepped closer. "What kind of event?"

"A garden party," Lady Margaret replied, her tone filled with the gravity such an invitation carried. "At Lord and Lady Herrington estate. It's one of the most highly anticipated gatherings of the season, and we must be prepared. This is an excellent opportunity for you, Evelina, to secure connections with some of the most powerful families in the ton."

Evelina glanced at Henry, who seemed less than enthused by the prospect of yet another society event. But she knew their mother was right. The Queen's diamond could not afford to miss such an opportunity, especially not with the recent stirrings in the social circles regarding her.

"When is it?" Evelina asked, already feeling the pressure building.

"Tomorrow," Lady Margaret said, handing her the pamphlet. "We have much to prepare. Your gowns need to be perfected, and you must both be on your best behavior. No more foolish outings, Henry."

Henry sighed dramatically. "You wound me, Mother. Am I not always the picture of decorum?"

Lady Margaret's eyes narrowed. "Do not test my patience, Henry. The Herrington are a very influential family, and we must make the best impression possible. That means no scandal, no improper behavior, and certainly no taverns."

Evelina bit back a smile, grateful that her mother had reprimanded Henry without mentioning their previous outing. The last thing she needed was another lecture on propriety, but her mother's words only reinforced the seriousness of their social standing.

"I'll ensure everything is in order," Evelina said, her voice steady despite the flutter of nerves in her chest. "Thank you, Mother."

Lady Margaret nodded, her stern expression softening slightly. "Good. I'll leave you to prepare. I expect nothing less than perfection from both of you tomorrow."

As their mother swept out of the room, Henry groaned, pushing off the doorframe and running a hand through his hair. "Another event. Wonderful."

Evelina shot him a look. "Try not to sound so excited."

"Oh, I'm thrilled, truly," Henry said with a wry smile. "Nothing I love more than mingling with the self-righteous upper crust of society."

"That's precisely why you should behave, Henry," Evelina replied, her tone sharp. "Mother's right. This is important, not just for me but for the entire family."

Henry sighed, his playful demeanor fading slightly. "I know, I know. I'll behave."

Evelina studied him for a moment, then nodded. "Good. Because if you don't, it won't just be me who suffers. The Queen is watching, and if she hears even a whisper of impropriety from our family, there will be consequences."

Henry flashed her a roguish grin, but there was a seriousness behind his eyes. "Don't worry, sister. I'll make sure we both come out of this unscathed."

"I'll hold you to that," Evelina muttered, feeling a familiar knot of anxiety tightening in her chest.

As the day wore on, preparations for the garden party began in earnest. Dresses were brought out, accessories polished, and plans made for the Sinclair siblings to present themselves flawlessly. Yet, as Evelina looked at herself in the mirror that night, she couldn't shake the nagging sense that no matter how perfectly she played her role, the storm of scandal always loomed just out of reach.

And tomorrow, at the Herrington estate, that storm might finally break.