A mask of innocence *On hold*

A mask of innocence~ 7 the ball pt. 2

***Twice in a day again!!! Okay, so i've decided to sort of do a promotion on my story. For the first person who comments on this chapter, i will dedicate the next chapter to them!  And whoever comments second, i will read one of your stories! (: so please comment, and vote!!!! Thanks so much and God bless you! (Yes, you :D)****

The house took my breath away. It may as well have been the castle for all the grandeur it displayed. Four pillars rose high in front and concealed the doorway. Huge slabs of charcoal stone fit together to form an immense structure. And I thought my house was something to look at.

The sheer size of the place intimidated me, and it was only by Richard’s assuring squeeze that I was able to move up the path.

Richard took the liberty to knock on the door for me.

“Alright missy, I’ll be right outside waiting for you, ya hear? Have any trouble and you just come find me.” With a gentle pat on the head, he retreated down the walk, right as the door opened.

A maid stood in the lighted doorway, staring at me silently.

“Hello. I’ve come for the party.”

I could only hope I exuded more confidence than I felt.

The maid just stood there, looking me up and down. I blushed; was I underdressed? Was it so obvious that I was an imposter?

I squelched my fear and tried again.

“May I enter?”

“Have you an escort, madam?” The maid’s high voice questioned.

“No. But I do have an invitation.” Thankfully, I had thought to bring the invitation with me, albeit it was a bit rumpled from when Delia had thrown it away.

The crumpled piece of paper seemed to be proof enough so the door opened further to allow me inside.

“Do you have a coat or shawl with you? I would be obliged to take it.”

“No, I um, I do not notice the cold so I have no need of one.”

I winced at my rusty grammar, not having to have use of it for quite sometime. Although the maid looked skeptical, she nodded and proceeded to show me to the ballroom. I walked quickly, trying to keep up with the girl. Small and unthreatening, she reminded me of a field mouse, scampering swiftly down the hall.

Slowing down, I took a moment to observe my surroundings. The walls, a deep burgundy, held various portraits and paintings of the family who owned the house. In many of them, a certain man caught my eye. With black hair and dark veiled eyes, the man held an air of mystery to him. In each portrait, he neither smiled nor seemed displeased. His expression was a carefully composed mask of indifference.

“Mary, who is it that you are escorting to the ball room?”

I was so preoccupied by the portraits that I hadn’t noticed Mary being stopped by a stranger. I turned and abruptly came face to face with the very man in the portrait. Startled, I took a step back from the captivating brown eyes that gazed curiously into mine.

Mary, whom I presumed was the maid, cowered nervously in the hallway.

“I did not receive her name, sir.”

Without taking his eyes off me, the man raised a brow.

“Ah, and what is your name, madam? For I have laid eyes on your face before.”

Thinking quickly, I blurted out, “Harding. Ms. Ella Harding.”

“Pleasure, Ms. Harding. I am Elliot Brownwood. And where, may I ask, is your escort?”

“I have come without. I had no need of one,” I announced.

“Ah,” a corner of his mouth twitched, “then may I do the honor of assisting you to the ballroom? You may leave Mary.” He dismissed the young maid.

Gritting my teeth, I accepted his outstretched arm. I had planned on not even stepping foot in the ballroom, slipping in and out with the jewels unseen. But now, with an escort, it would take longer than planned to accomplish my task.

We arrived at the ballroom and I couldn’t help the gasp that escaped my lips when I saw the sight before me. The spacious ballroom was filled with people, girls in large flowing dresses, and men decorated with fancy suits. Deep gold drapes covered ten-foot tall windows.

Elliot led me into the room, clearly oblivious to the stares we elicited. Self-consciously, I smoothed out my dress, discreetly peering at the other women’s dresses. Thankfully, mine was not as out of place as I worried it would be.

“Would you care to dance, Ms. Harding?” Elliot asked smoothly.

I nodded, too speechless to say else.

Only when he pulled me into his arms did I remember my lack of dance lessons.

“I fear I am not at all skilled at dancing,” I confessed.

“No worries, it’s all in the leading,” Elliot grinned mischievously.

Remarkably, he was right. Effortlessly, we weaved in and out of other couples, and to no credit of mine. Elliot deftly spun me out and reeled me back in with a flick of his wrist. Against my judgment, I smiled and realized I was enjoying myself.

“Where are you from, Ella?”

“Just north of here, in Hampton,” I lied.

“Ah,” that seemed to be his catch phrase, “And what do you think of this humble place?”

“I think it quite beautiful.”

“Good, because my sisters and mother have worked hard on it,” He winked.

I smiled shyly.

“Unfortunately, I cannot monopolize your time, as much as I’ve been enjoying myself. We’ve already danced two songs and it would be inappropriate for us to dance a third. Shall I escort you to the food?”

His words jarred me back to reality. I shouldn’t be enjoying myself dancing when I had a job to do.  The idea was to get in and out and I’ve already spent more time than necessary dancing.

“By the door will be just fine, I need to excuse myself for a moment.”

With a smile, Elliot walked me to the door and left me, probably in search of another to dance with.

Looking around, I made sure no one saw me as I slipped from the room.  Now it was time…

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