Chasing Cecilia

CHAPTER 20

Rory:

I stood at the bottom of the stairs tapping my foot impatiently. I was not the most tolerant of tardiness and Cecilia never took this long. What on earth was she doing up there? I slowly began to pace back and forth at the base of the large staircase, the guests would soon be arriving and as host and hostess we needed to be present to greet them all. 

I readjusted the mask that covered my face, the ruddy thing was beginning to irritate me, but Cecilia had specially purchased it for me and so I would bear it with as good a temper as I could manage.

I heard a shuffling above me and turned my attention to the top of the staircase. My pacing instantly ceased as I soaked up the vision before me.

 Cecilia stood at the crest of the stairs dressed in a gown of midnight blue, the colour shimmering black in places in the flickering candlelight that enveloped the main hall. It hung off her shoulders and was cinched tightly around her waist before flowing down to the ground in folds of satin.

"Lord, does it look that bad?" Her voice was tinted with a nervousness I was not used to hearing from her. I took a moment to find my voice as I stared open-mouthed at her.

"No, no, not at all," I tried to convince her, "You look mesmerisingly beautiful." I could not find the right words to describe how enchanting she looked in that moment, she had me utterly spellbound, my eyes remaining transfixed by her beauty. 

She was surely a sorceress, I was sure I had never known a woman to look as heavenly as she did standing at the top of the stairs, her eyes wide and searching behind her midnight black mask.

I walked up the stairs in a daze, offering her my arm which she smilingly accepted, her eyes still holding mine. I escorted her through to the large ball room where the orchestra were warming up on the small stage. A few maids scurried around setting out the last dishes on long side tables that stretched the length of the room.

Admittedly I had been averse to the idea of hosting a ball for chiefly financial reasons yet, although there was the appearance of no expense being spared, from the accounts Cecilia had carefully managed when organising the ball, I knew she had been incredibly canny with the limited money left. I smiled proudly down at her, she was a clever woman to be sure.

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The ball was in full swing, skirts of every colour twirled around the centre of the room as partners happily danced together in the dimming light. I strode between the guests, many had figured out who each other were although a large number of the party had managed to keep their identities hidden on the whole.

My attention was drawn to the dance floor as I heard a familiar laugh float through the room. I immediately picked out the indigo dress and raven hair from the crowd of dancers as she spun by, a smile on her face. 

I turned my gaze from her to the man she was partnering. He was clearly tall and had a shock of platinum hair. I didn't need to see any more of him to know exactly who he was; there was only one noble family that looked like that and those were the Claffington's. He would be Harold Claffington and one of the most notorious rakes in the London circles.

I ground my teeth together as I noted the overly familiar closeness of the two as his hand clutched her waist tightly bringing her closer to him. I felt my hands clench into fists by my side as I watched the two whirl around the floor. 

I felt a wave of burning anger wash over me, was he aware that it was my wife he was manhandling? Bitter jealousy coursed through me, maybe this ball had not been such a good idea after all.

I stormed towards the couple as the music finished for the dance watching as she curtsied at the gentleman. I had nearly reached the couple when suddenly a dark haired man moved to Claffington's side and claimed the next dance with Cecilia.