Chapter 19: Disastrous Debut

7 0 0
                                    



(London, England, 1871)

(Mari's POV)

The more that I looked at the beautifully written invitations, the ones that must've taken Paulette and Janette hours to perfect the script and the wording, I found myself thinking that we were going to be exposed, yet again, and run out of town, yet again.

"Miss Marquez?" The voice of one of the house maids caught my attention, pulling me from my, potentially self-destructive, thoughts. I turned to her, feeling almost in a daze.

"Yes?" I asked.

"Mister Hamilton requests your presence in his study," the maid said, before she bowed out.

"Thank you," I said, faintly, before I realized that she was no longer there. Confusion settled in as I pulled myself away from the dining table, where Janette and Paulette were still sitting, eyes and minds trained on their task at hand; going over and confirming invites.

As I walked down the small hallway, fear started to replace the confusion I felt. What if Thomas had stumbled upon the information that Paulette and I were fugitive pirates on the run? What if he told me that he could no longer extend his hospitality to us? We'd be stranded in London with no way of getting anywhere.

I took a deep breath as my knuckles contacted the wooden door. I rapped on it three times, and then waited. When no reply came, I tried to door knob, to find that it was slightly opened. I stuck my head in and looked around the seemingly deserted office.

"Hello?" I called out. When no answer came, I pulled my head out, and looked from one side to the other, making sure that nobody was coming my way, and I slipped inside, shutting the door behind me, quietly. I froze when I heard footsteps coming down the hall. They stopped, and my heartbeat quickened, thinking that whoever it was, was going to come into the study. Once I heard the footsteps start up again, and go down the hall, my heart rate lessened, and I let out a breath.

Breathing normally now, I moved forward, looking at the desk; I figured that, if Thomas had found out about Paulette and I were fugitives, his desk was where the information would be held. Making sure my footsteps were stealthy, I made my way over to the desk and looked at it, noticing that it was meticulously organized. Stationary, a pen, and an inkwell were in the top right hand corner, while a stack of papers took up the left.

After looking, briefly, at the door, I glanced back at the stack of papers, before I settled myself in the wooden chair at the desk. I grasped the stack and pulled it to me, carefully. Taking the corner of each page between my fingers, I lifted them, one by one, as my eyes scanned over each line of words.

I felt foolish, the more I looked at the papers, each one I read made me feel even more foolish. They were not reports of anything pertaining to Paulette and me, but, merely letters between Thomas and a woman named Matilda. I let out a breath as I put the letters down and then leaned back in the chair.

I felt bad for Cecelia—even though I knew that she didn't deserve it—but being possibly sent away...it had to be hard.

Footsteps outside could be heard. They stopped, and I scrambled to push Thomas' mail back to where it had been when I had entered, and then I flew out of the chair, positioning myself by the book case, as I pretended to examine the thick volumes that were housed on the shelves.

The door opened and I turned and smiled at Thomas, who smiled as well, and then entered the office.

"Miss Marquez, to what do I owe this delightful surprise?" he asked.

MasqueradeWhere stories live. Discover now