The rules for dancing were different to those at a normal ball. Tonight, there was a free choice with a hint of mystery, not knowing the faces behind the masks until the unveiling at the stroke of midnight. Looking at the number of guests milling around the row of open glass doors leading from the ballroom to the terrace, it was unlikely some dancers would wait that long.
The night air was warm and redolent with heavy scents from the gardens. Outside in the grounds, temples beckoned, and lanterns flickered, illuminating the latest addition to the centre of the lake, the Ionic temple, dedicated to Aesculapius, the god of healing.
Joshua had never known such a crush. The heat from several thousand candle-flames, matched by vapour from half as many bodies in costume was intense, and the cloying scent of the floral arrangements set in recesses around the ballroom merely added to that. Then there was the dancing. He wished he could remove his cloak, and thought longingly of a bath in which he could immerse himself. Maybe he should have gone to the bagnio instead.
After several failed attempts, dancing with other ladies in a similar costume, he found Lady Rosie with her cousin, and engaged to dance two sets with each.
Charlie did the same, then entered into the spirit of mystery and headed for a group of ladies he thought he knew from the embassy. Joshua stayed for a while to talk with those with whom he felt comfortable. Eventually, he knew he had to leave them and circulate amongst the other dancers. What he had not anticipated was that a vision in gold silk would elect to dance with him.
He had seen the woman standing amongst the group of dignitaries when they arrived, and noticed her again when he was talking to Rosie and her cousin. He could not help doing so because she kept looking his way. At least he thought that, and looked around to make sure no one else was standing behind. They were not.
What was there about her that teased his mind? Then it dawned, she was Ariadne, in the flesh. The one the artist included in the portrait of himself and Charlie.
Tonight, she wore an upswept mask of a black lace design, its delicately woven frame studded with diamante. If the outline was smaller, he might see more of her face. All he could see were her rich red lips and pearly teeth.
When Joshua first saw her, he thought she was the most vibrant woman in the room. Where other costumes disguised the owner’s identity, her outfit drew attention to her charms.
He did not know much about women’s clothes, but he had the feeling that on anyone else, the drab gold silk she wore, fashioned in the deceptively simple lines of a toga, might have passed unnoticed amongst other more elaborate costumes. Instead, the slinky material shimmered as it flowed over her voluptuous curves, it could not help drawing the eye.
A floating wisp of gold silk fashioned as a hood moved his attention to her hair. It was as vivid as the setting sun, and twisted in a coil on the crown of her head. He had never seen such luminescence, or gems to equal the black pearls that encircled her neck and hung provocatively down to her waist.
Other eyes looked in her direction, and not only those of men. He noticed Rosie did too, with a strange expression on her face. Where most women looked with envy, her gaze held enmity, and he wondered at the cause. The woman was undoubtedly the more curvaceous, but that surely was not a reason to view her with hatred.
The goddess was neither tall nor short, but she had a presence that went beyond the clothes she wore. She simply oozed sensuality, and he was not the only one to notice her. Other men wanted to fawn over her, pay extravagant compliments.
Then he noticed the way she moved, and something vaguely familiar about the leisurely, feline sway to her hips touched his soul. Joshua could not keep his eyes off her. He had a picture in his mind of how her coiffured titian hair would look tumbling loose around her shoulders, and the thought made him feel hot and decidedly over-dressed. He closed his eyes but the tantalising image remained.
“What’s the matter?” Lady Rosie asked.
“Nothing,” he said. He could not tell her another woman was watching him. He did not have to. She could see for herself.
“Take no notice,” she said tartly. “You’ll only encourage her.”
He took his leave of the ladies, promising to return for the appointed dances, and moved across the ballroom. There seemed a sense of inevitability about the way he met a uniformed minion half way to the door. The man bowed and spoke a few words. Joshua uttered an almost pre-ordained response and followed the servant to where his partner awaited him.
He bowed formally, carefully gauging the correct depth of deference, and she leaned provocatively forward. His mouth felt dry and he unconsciously moistened his lips. She smiled appreciatively.
Somehow, Joshua managed to match his steps to his partner, and to the set, but he could never remember what dance it was. When it was finished, he bowed his thanks and walked away across the room to speak a few words to Charlie.
Then he moved on for the first of his duty dances. They should not have felt like that, but they did. Lady Rosie conducted herself with stiff propriety and her cousin did the same. Soon it would be the supper dance. For some reason, he had not arranged to take either of the ladies down to the supper room. It was not intentional. It just happened that way.
He felt strangely isolated, so he made his way to where Charlie was standing. Midnight was the unmasking hour and people gathered around, waiting for the chimes to begin.
“I think the Countess likes you, Josh. She hasn’t stopped watching you since you danced with her,” Charlie whispered.
“She’s married, isn’t she?” He did not know how he knew.
“What’s that got to do with it? Husband and wives rarely dance together. It just is not done, sir.” Charlie’s gift for mimicry perfected the lisping individual who struggled to teach them the rudiments of etiquette. “Surely, you have noticed the older menfolk favour the youngest maidens.”
Joshua had seen that, but it was not the kind of thing to ask Dr Hawley, particularly after their recent adventure. He almost laughed at the thought and caught the woman’s eye. She gave an almost imperceptible nod, pouted her lips and turned away towards the French doors leading to the terrace.
“There you are, Josh,” said Charlie. “That’s an invitation if ever I saw one.”
If it were that noticeable, then surely everyone else would see him walk across the room towards her. He was hardly invisible.
A manservant appeared by his side. “Mr Norbery? The Contessa requested that you join her party for supper.”
He looked at Charlie.
“Don’t ask me, Josh. The invitation is for you, but if there’s a party, it isn’t as if you are the only one to be asked.”
“If you care to follow me, sir…” The servant moved away, skirting the groups around the edge of the room with ease, and on through a corridor with doors on either side.
Joshua strode after the man, and found him waiting at the end of the hallway, holding open a door. He lengthened his step, and passed through several more doors, down a flight of steps to the outside of the building and across a flagstoned quadrangle, before entering into another maze of corridors.
This was silly. He was moving further away from the ballroom.
“Wait,” he called, wondering if he’d used the right word.
“It’s not far now, sir,” the man said, scarcely checking in his stride.
When they finally stopped, the minion took a key from his pocket and passed through a door. Trailing several steps behind, Joshua found himself in a corridor, lined from floor to ceiling with marble tiles. It almost seemed like an extension of the main entrance.
A panel in the wall slid open, and Joshua passed through the opening and the outer door closed. Somewhere in the background, he heard the sound of running water and became aware of a sweet-smelling scent, reminiscent of sandalwood. Before he could discern the source, a servant appeared at his side, offering a goblet of wine.
Joshua felt better with something to hold, so he took a sip and a strange fiery substance scorched its way down his throat.
What the deuce was in that? He sniffed the contents and decided whatever it was, it was better not to drink any more of it.
“I’m so glad you came, Mr Norbery. You are most welcome.”
Even before he turned, the sound of the sultry voice left Joshua in no doubt of her identity, and the sight of her titian hair tumbling around her shoulders evoked the same erotic response it did when he saw her in the bagnio – just before she melted his bones.
The realisation rooted him to the spot. With the removal of her mask, the goddess had shed the rope of black pearls and exchanged the gown she wore in the ballroom for a diaphanous shift, which revealed more of her voluptuous form than it hid.
What kind of outfit was that to wear when she was supposed to be entertaining guests for supper? More to the point – what was he doing here alone with her in a state of dishabille?
The absence of other guests and the lack of visible food struck him anew. So did the transparency of the scanty wisp of silk, which moulded itself to her form, outlining her taut nipples.
Distracted, Joshua took a gulp of wine and found the taste no better than the last time. If this was superior quality, then give him a tankard of ale any day.
“Come with me,” she said, holding out her hand and moving towards an open door. “All is prepared for us.”
He looked across the threshold of a bedchamber containing the largest, satin-covered couch he had ever seen. It was enormous.
How the deuce could he extricate himself from the situation? There was only one way. He would have to bluff it out.
“I beg your pardon for the intrusion, madam,” Joshua said, struggling to regain his composure. “The servant must have brought me to the wrong place. I understood I was to take supper with the Countess… and her party.”
“No,” she said, with a little smile. “He followed his instructions to the letter.”
“Where are the other guests?”
“They sent their regrets. I’m afraid they found the distance too much for their constitutions.” She laughed at his look of surprise. “No, I confess that was my little ploy. There is only you, Joshua Norbery, and me, and we have the rest of the night to get to know each other.”
Even he knew this was the height of foolishness.
“No,” he said, backing away. “I must go back. My friends will miss me.”
“I don’t think so.” She pouted and looked at him from beneath her sooty lashes. “I doubt if they have even noticed your absence. In any case, the door is locked, my dear sir, and the only key is here…”
She extracted a gold-coloured chain from deep in her cleavage.
“If you want to open the door, you will have to take it from me, by force, if you must, but I would much prefer to give it willingly. It would be a pity if I had to summon help to restrain you…”
“I haven’t touched you.”
“No, but you will,” she said. “You won’t be able to help yourself.”
A sense of unreality invaded his senses. He did not know what it was, but he started to feel as if a drunken haze was seeping into his limbs, just like when he was at the bagnio.
Not that again… please…
“What was in the drink? It feels as if you’ve drugged me.”
She gave a cynical laugh. “Don’t be foolish. That would deprive your body of power, and I want you fully compliant. The cocktail will simply erase the event from your memory.”
“You’re mad,” he said, and believed it.
She went on as if he had not spoken. “Not that you will ever forget what I teach you. In fact, it will give you a thirst for the unusual.”
He stood, fighting a sense of unreality, yet unable to resist as the woman snapped her fingers for attention. Willing hands came from nowhere to ease the coat from his shoulders, and dispatch in seconds the necktie, which took Gilbert an age to achieve.
“No… Let me do it…” She moved forward, feverishly brushing hands aside when others would have unbuttoned his shirtfront.
With a low growl of delight, the woman ran her fingertips over his nipples, teasing them hard with anticipation, then she trickled her fingers down across his belly…
Hours later, Joshua awoke to the sound of Charlie snoring across the room, which told him he was in his bedchamber. The hour was early, but the sun streamed through the window.
He could not remember returning to the ball after supper, but he must have. How else would he be in his own bed? He looked around the room to where his eveningwear lay scattered across the floor.
His mind registered the fact Charlie had placed his neatly folded clothes over a chair. That must be the soldier in him, and it was something Joshua would have to learn.
The fancy dress clothes were there, so he had obviously been to the ball, but he could not recall how much of it was a dream. It seemed so real at the time, but surely, respectably married women did not go to bagnios, nor entertain young men alone in locked rooms – but then, she was hardly respectable.
The thought of her hands made his blood start to sizzle, and he knew if he ever met her again, he would never be able to look her in the face. It simply could not be true. It must have been the wine he drank or his overactive imagination…
Then the stark reality came back to him. The whore was wrong about the mixture erasing the event. He could remember everything she touched and his reactions. He broke out in a sweat. Even the thought of her sinking her teeth into his nipple set him on a cliff edge. He did not know what else she would do, had it not been for the interruption.
Thank God for the blessed interruption…
To Joshua, it seemed like an hour passed, but incredibly, little more than ten minutes ticked by between the time he entered the outer door and when the disturbance came. He was never more grateful to hear the patter of hurrying footsteps and an agitated, Italian-sounding voice, calling the Contessa’s name.
The words were too fast and garbled for Joshua to follow, but the diplomat’s wife heard and understood. She shrugged her shoulders, and said, “Of all the inconvenient times for my husband to come – now we will never know how good we were together…”