Princess of Glass - Jessica Day George [72]
Christian quickly concealed the knife in the folds of his own robes, not sure what to do with it now. He couldn’t very well dance with one hand clamped to his side. He saw Poppy and Roger purse their lips, as though coming to the same conclusion.
A young woman dressed as a hareem girl in a daring costume of billowing trousers and a low-cut, tight bodice came fluttering over to them. She even had delicate gold shackles on her wrists, Christian noticed, and was further distracted by the fact that her bodice and trousers did not quite meet over her waist. Poppy jabbed him in the ribs with the handle of her fan when she caught him staring.
“Costumes are so difficult to manage, aren’t they?”
The hareem girl, to Christian’s shock, was Marianne. Her brown eyes twinkled from behind her spangled mask, and her black hair was covered by a headdress dripping with cut-glass “jewels.” He swallowed and nodded, still taken aback by the amount of flesh she was showing.
With a laugh at his discomfiture, Marianne took the long knife from his hand and tucked the sheath through the sash of his imperial robes. She tugged at the knot of the sash, making sure it was tight enough, and then gave a satisfied nod.
“You would have to wear the full regalia!” Her voice was louder now, for the benefit of those watching the little group. “I don’t know how you expect to dance with all these fans and things hanging off of your sash!”
“Oh, thank you! How kind!” Poppy fluttered her fan at Marianne. “Now if you don’t mind!” She steered Christian back onto the dance floor as though jealous.
“Her costume,” Christian said in a strangled voice.
“The original design called for one of those long veils, all the way to the floor. But then she decided this morning that it would get in the way when she danced.” Poppy gave a wicked laugh. “Have you seen Dickon? He’s dressed to match.”
“No, I—” Then Christian stopped, because he did see Dickon, or he assumed it was Dickon, taking Marianne’s hand to lead her into a dance.
In complete contrast to his brother’s restrained garb, Dickon Twaite was wearing a pair of billowing trousers like Marianne’s, a sash with a long knife, a turban, and a mask.
And nothing else.
Christian let out a low whistle.
“Lord Richard is dressed like a cavalier,” Poppy said.
At first this seemed to be a rather off-the-cuff remark, but then Christian noticed the tall Analousian cavalier lurking to the side of the dance floor, his masked gaze clearly on Marianne and Dickon. Christian started to laugh, and found that he couldn’t stop.
It infected Poppy, too, and soon they were both laughing like maniacs as they twirled around the floor. It was all too surreal: the Corley, Eleanora, the glass slippers … and here was Lord Richard worried about the fact that his daughter was wearing a revealing costume and dancing with the young man who was on the verge of asking for her hand anyway.
For hours they laughed and danced, and pretended that there was nothing more horrible to come than the end of the ball.
Christian wondered how he could ever have thought about asking Lady Ella to marry him. Not with Poppy in the same room, even in the same city. She was clever, and witty, and without a doubt the finest dancer he had ever partnered. Eleanora’s awkward flirting, fan-slaps, and stilted conversation simply could not hold a candle to Poppy’s free and easy manners.
Of course Christian knew that it was hardly Eleanora’s fault. She hadn’t had a happy life, and she had no experience with balls and parties. There was also the small matter of her being in love with Roger, while trying to attract Christian’s interest on the Corley’s orders.
Poppy filled him in on all this as they danced, including her suspicion that Roger would have eloped with Eleanora if he weren’t so honorable.
“As