Romancing The Nights

chapter one: debut

In such events, it was always a wonder that nobody was ever murdered.

The room was filled with hundreds of people who loathed each other, the breed of people who smiled swiftly at their enemies and backstabbed their colleagues. It was such a strange dynamic, the men were out to bed and conquer each other's wives, while the women fought their way to the top, landing one slanderous rumour after the other against their competitors.

Evenings such as these, were filled with brimming new socialites, officially entering a world of glamour and prestige. Tonight's affair demonstrated echelon, silks would not do for the elite of the night. Garments in exotic fabrics would earn one a glance from the hostess. However, wearing a bright coloured ball-gown to an explicitly themed evening earned one more than just a glance.

Ella Malone stood beside three other young, beautiful women, the only one bravely and defiantly wearing a crème coloured gown, exported from across the Pacific.

"Oh Ella, Lady Hayes is glaring at you," her blonde haired friend, Elisa Sterling, sighed in awe, her hands clinging to the softest, most delicate fabrics she had ever come across. Sisters Margaret and Beatrice Lindal nodded in agreement, "The only other moment I have seen Lady Hayes angry was when you and her son disappeared last fall," Beatrice exclaimed coyly. As the youngest of the group she fought determinedly to be seen as an equal, especially as she was competing against her sister.

"Beatrice!" Margaret chastised her younger sister, with a look of exasperation and annoyance on her narrow face. What Beatrice had been referring to was the last major social event the Hayes' had held. That night Jonathon Hayes had been besotted with Ella, and Lady Hayes had been seething with anger at each dance, touch and smile. Jealousy never suited her better.

"Let her stare," Ella replied boldly, enjoying the marvel of her friends and guests alike, "let her stare at a beautiful woman for once, rather than her ghastly reflection." The girls laughed softly, attracting the attention of those around them and making Ella burst with pride. She had transitioned from child to woman in a classy and graceful manner. She held her head modestly high, her long-swept hair fashioned into a elegant style and her lips slick with red crayon.

She held the gaze of Lady Hayes, but the middle aged woman had enough, and practically danced to her husband's side, as if to reassure all two hundred guests that he was hers. The poor, insecure woman.

"Look at that. Lady Hayes quaking at the sight of young competition," a man of youth brokered the salacious conversations of the group of women. He appeared at Elisa's side, but anyone with eyes and sense could tell that he was only speaking to Ella, as if the other three had faded into the background. For the group of girls this was not a rarity, many a man had been drawn to Ella, leaving them on the sidelines to watch her work her confidence and charm.

"Oh, Lady Hayes is from the Burrows, they are made of sturdy material there," replied Ella, a  hint of amusement in her voice, the edges of flirtation on her rosy lips. She subtly admired the young man's appearance, and drew to the conclusion she had never seen his likes in her circles. The reddish, coppered hair and pale blue eyes would have surely drawn her attention if he had.

"Enough talk about the elderly, it dulls me so. Lady Malone," she said formally, placing her hand eloquently in front of the young man. He arched a brow in amusement at her assertiveness, "Francis Bass," he replied, planting a gentle, almost featherlike kiss on her hand.

The imprint of the kiss, Ella noted, made her stomach leap into her chest. She felt perhaps a bit dishonourable, as she was not a single woman and was betrothed to Henry Watercrest of a high linage, but Ella Malone was never one to shy from flirtatious fun. They did not call her the dark haired stallion for nothing.