Chapter Two

Anne sat at the dressing table and looked at her reflection. In the round mirror, she studied her features closely. Individually they were flawless. Her eyebrows were lush and nicely shaped. The line of her nose was straight and small enough not to seem like it consumed her whole face. Her complexion was pink and pale, but it was lively with a slight tan from her frequent horse rides. Her mouth was small but her lips were full and plump. The teeth behind those lips were flawlessly white and straight unlike many unfortunate people she could name. Her eyes were the color of honey on chocolate with a touch of green in each iris. Yet, when you put it all together it wasn't striking in her view. She looked like the little fairy illustrations from the storybooks her mother read to her when she was a little girl.

She added a little more powder to her nose. Her father had asked her to don her best gown for the evening. He seemed almost human tonight. It certainly was an improvement. He scarcely said a word at dinner and now he appeared almost excited about the 'special' guest they were receiving. I wonder who could make Father so pleased. A successful captain from one of his ships maybe? She thought. It was all too odd, but she wouldn't question her father's good mood. She would enjoy it while it lasted.

A knock came at the door. "You may come in." Anne said, focused on screwing an earbob in.

"Mademoiselle, the guests are arriving in fifteen minutes." Monique announced as she entered.

"I'll be ready. Can you assist me with my hair?" She turned to the mirror waiting for Monique's nimble fingers to give some order in her long amber tresses.

Monique had been Anne's lady's maid since her mother died. She was a tall strong woman with prominent features. Her hair was a dark brown and they matched her eyes perfectly. Her lashes were luxurious and accented her glowing eyes. She was only a few years older than Anne. Her family had moved to America when she was a child because of the violence that had besieged her country. Anne thought of her as her greatest friend more than a servant.

Monique pulled the brush down through her mistress' golden brown locks. A pin here and there was added. "I think your father is ill. His mood was cheerful. He is never cheerful."

"I haven't a clue. Maybe it has to do with this strange Mr. Wesley he is continuously talking about. He's the reason Father is hosting the masquerade tonight, you know. I never know about Father these days. He's become...his moods are rather peculiar." Anne clipped the clasp of a necklace and pulled the cameo forward. Her hair was now perfect thanks to Monique. "Monique, what are your suspicions concerning this Mr. Wesley? Why do you think he's here?"

"I think he may be a client for your father. He might be rich and willing to invest in your father's business. He was dressed very elegantly." She paused, considering. "His shoes were nice," she added with a very French shrug. Monique was not always that current on the ways of the world. She most likely hadn't heard of how violent the seas were becoming and how dangerous the trading industry was to partake in. She had once asked if President Adams was still in office. Yet, when it came to fashion, the girl had a veritable passion and talent.

"Perhaps you are right." Anne replied, even though she had a strange feeling that there was a great deal more to this small mystery. Careful not t muss her hair she slowly placed the mask over her eyes She turned in her chair to face Monique. "So... how do I look?"

"Magnificent, you look absolutely magnificent, Mademoiselle...as always!" She smiled.

After half an hour of helping her father receive all f their guests, Anne saw the oldest and most obese man her eyes had ever had the liberty of beholding conversing with her father. He was no sea captain, that much was obvious. Who was he? Her father came to her when she entered.

"Anne, there you are. My Sweet, we've been waiting for you. You must come and introduce you to our guest." Her father said as he took hold of her gloved hand, preventing all escape, and led her to him. The orchestra began playing their slow music.

She sincerely doubted he could dance due to his age and weight. "Miss Gregory, it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance. My name is Kenneth Wesley." He kissed her hand in a manner where only in his imaginings, would it be attractive. His lips were thin and glossy with spittle.

"The pleasure is all mine." She replied automatically, not a trace of her insincerity showing on her polite face. Inside however, she was repulsed.

Mr. Gregory was beaming. "Well now that we are all pleasurably acquainted, would Mr. Wesley care to ask my daughter to dance?" There was a shine of malicious mischief in her father's eye that she couldn't easily ignore, and it made her oddly uneasy. Nothing made sense. She wished that she could have pretended an illness had left her indisposed until the ball was over. A strange sense of foreboding told her that her father and this new friend of his were up to no good. She just didn't know to what extent their plans would alter her life.

Mr. Wesley took her arm in his chubby one and guided her toward the floor. It only took a moment for Anne to realize that our Mr. Wesley had extremely poor hygiene. When he smiled his front teeth were rotten and his breath would kill a rat. He was so engrossed in body fat that he was sweating in the middle December. She shuddered inwardly. He stood across from her as the other guests assembled for the first dance.

She had to bear holding his chubby hand for what seemed like an eternity. The feel f his hands on her was utterly disgusting. Over his shoulder however, a man in a red mask caught her eye. His hair was black with a hint of red. He was tall and had an air of nobility. She was forced to look back at Mr. Wesley because the dance ended. She bowed and excused herself to the powder room where she planned to wash her hands thoroughly.

Across the room the red masked stranger surveyed the room. He really shouldn't be here, but the Gregory Enterprise was just too important to his plan. He would risk it. He made his way to where the powder rooms were. If he stayed in the shadows until midnight when everyone had to remove their masks, he would know who Mr. Gregory was. He would confront him with his proposal then. He glanced at the grandfather clock beside him. It was a quarter til ten. He had a while to wait. A young woman emerged from behind him, and slammed into his hard back.

"Oh dear, I apologize. I was not paying any mind to where I was going."

He cleared his throat, prepared to smother his British accent. When he turned to face her, he was struck dumb. Even with a mask, she was beautiful. She looked like a china doll with her golden eyes and amber hair. "T-the fault was entirely my own. I should not have stood so close to the door." He sounded American enough.

"I thank you for trying to make me feel better, but I remain the one at fault." She smiled and looked away for a brief second before she spoke. Maybe he wouldn't have to wait alone. "I don't believe we've been introduced. Did you come with someone?"

"No. I came to discuss a bit of business with Mr. Gregory."

"Please do not." The outburst left her lips before she could stop it. "Forgive me. It should be none of my concern. Excuse me." She turned to flee.

The stranger caught her gloved hand. "No, do not leave. I am curious as to why you do not wish me to talk to him."

She glanced quickly down at where his and held hers. She could feel the raw strength of him, but he was gentle with his grasp. Even through the pale pink silk, she could feel the calluses on his palms. She forced her eyes back into his ice blue ones. "My father has been under much stress lately. He hasn't been very sociable. Tonight I would like him to enjoy the evening, but I am not to interfere with his business."

He released her hand. This beautiful creature was the heiress of the Gregory Enterprise. He allowed a smile to grow upon his face. "Do not worry, Miss Gregory. I shall hold my business until the end of the night if it pleases you?" He was already planning on doing that, but he wanted to set her at ease.

She returned his smile. "Thank you. That would be wonderful." The country dance ended and the faint beginnings of a waltz were in progress.

"Your name is Anne, if I'm not mistaken."

"Yes." She smiled.

"Would you care to dance? I believe this next dance is a waltz."

Anne looked from him to her father across the room. If she ventured from the shadows she risked being called out to speak with Mr. Wesley and other elderly men of whom her father was acquainted. Her attention was again given to this stranger's handsome features. Maybe she could dance once. "I would love to."

He took her gloved hand and lead her to the outskirts of the couples. Brent pulled her close and held her tight to him.

"I hardly believe this is proper." She whispered.

He laughed. "My dear, this is a masquerade. No one knows our identities. Why not act scandalous?"

She gave a shy smile. Finally, she would be able to go passed the bounds of propriety. "I do think you are on to something. The old gossips in the corner haven't the slightest idea who we are; therefore, my reputation is very much intact."

Once the waltz ended Anne began to blush. He couldn't help but notice and wonder if it was he who had had this effect on her. "Would you care to venture through the gerdens? It is beginning to feel warm in here."

She thanked God that he assumed her blush was caused by the temperature. Anne had never been held so close. How her heart had yearned to feel a man holding her tight. When she was in grammar school, she had waited in heavy anticipation to see the boy whose smiles had captivated her. She would watch the clock in the room slowly tick. Her chest ached with the longing. The hardest were those last five minutes when she felt like yelling at the top of her lungs. Now though, she could hardly breathe with the same feeling, but it was all happening so fast. It was like a short fairytale, a magical night, a dream.

The night air danced around her. The garden was so different in the dark. The time had flown by. It was five till midnight. She would love to live like this forever. She needed to know who he was.

He panicked. There was no way he could reveal himself now. He was in too far with Mr. Gregory's daughter. If she even felt the slightest bit used, it would jeopardize his whole plan. He knew from experience that women could be very persuasive when they were angry. How could he leave? He would have to sneak away without her being able to recognize him when he came to speak business tomorrow. Roughly, he spun her to him. "I've wanted to do this since I first saw you tonight." He kissed her hard trying not to lose himself. She wrapped her arms around him, and his fragile self control faltered. He was enjoying it far more than he should. He pulled back and whispered. "I must go" Without another word he ran from her into the darkness. When she opened her eyes again, he was gone. It hit her then hard like a blow, she didn't know his name or anything about him. She may never see him again.