[Previously: We have learned more about each of our main characters--The Earl, Lavinia, Cedric, and the Masked Avenger. Things are moving towards the Earl's dinner party. Lavinia is less and less hopeful that she'll ever see the Avenger again.]

Chapter Four


The night of the party was clear but chilly, with a three-quarter moon to guide the guests to Kentham and back home again. Lucius had invited twenty people, including nine couples, the Reverend Dodd, and Lady Eliza, relic of Lord Easterly, who was well-known for her sweet temperament, and who the Earl was hoping would keep Lavinia's father entertained for the evening.

Thinking of the evening ahead, and knowing how fine he looked in his new wig, cream-coloured satin coat and knee-breeches, with sapphires winking out from the folds of his elaborate cravat, he was certain that he'd have plenty of opportunity to press his suit with the divine Lavinia. There would be no other male there who could hope to compete with him on this, or any other field. Lucius always made sure of that.

Nor was he disappointed. The dinner went off without a hitch, and he could even maintain his smile when the conversation had veered briefly into a retelling of yet another of the Avenger's appearances which had occurred the night before. It was bound to have been talked about, since one of his guests was a close friend of the man the Avenger had rescued, but the Earl chose to ignore this small lapse. His Lavinia had done him the greatest credit in her French-cut evening gown of the softest blue that complimented his own ensemble perfectly. She was everything a man could want in a woman; blessed with beauty, brains and courage she would be the perfect Countess for him. He was determined to possess her.

Once the gentlemen had rejoined the ladies, the Earl suggested that some of them might want to indulge in a little dancing. This proposal was greeted with enthusiasm by the younger members of the party, and so chairs were pushed back and a volunteer was found among the older ladies to play tunes on the pianoforte.

Lavinia was not completely familiar with the English dances, but she was graceful, and a natural dancer, so it wasn't long before she was doing quite well. Such a gathering could not help but be informal, which meant that many of the rules usually pertaining to the dress balls in London wouldn't apply. That gave her more confidence than she might have ordinarily felt.

The Earl was pleased to see her enjoying herself so much. There was a sparkle in her eyes and a becoming flush to her cheeks which only enhanced her beauty. When he'd done his duty by the other ladies in the room, he'd looked forward to another dance with her. Already feeling possessive towards her, he wasn't best pleased when, just as the music was starting up again, Squire Wiltkens presented himself to Lavinia as a potential partner. Her laughing acceptance made it necessary for Lucius to bow and be a gracious host by giving up his place at her side, but he'd ground his teeth in frustration over this interruption.

A few moments into the dance, the Squire, an enthusiastic if rather inept dancer, lost his balance, stepped back too far and trod upon the hem of Lavinia's gown, tearing a few inches of the delicate fabric. He was extremely apologetic, but she made light of it, assuring him that her maid was an excellent needlewoman and would be able to mend it quite easily. Lucius offered to escort her to her room, but she wouldn't hear of it.

"Non, monsieur, I assure you, it is nothing. You must remain with your guests. I will return tout de suite, you will see."

He bowed over her hand, acquiescing to her wishes, but privately cursed the Squire for a clumsy fool.

Summoned to her mistress's bedchamber Jeanne was even quicker about the repair than Lavinia had thought possible. On her way back down the corridor, heading for the stairs, Lavinia turned a corner and nearly ran into Cedric.

Each gasped and stepped back. Then, for a moment, they just stared at one another. Cedric saw before him a fairy princess, all ice blue and fire; her eyes lit up with the excitement of the evening, her lovely lips parted in an "o" of surprise. He was all too keenly aware of his own dishevelled appearance and wished with all his heart that he could have met her when his grandfather was still alive ... when life at Kentham had been more carefree and happy than it was now, when he could have courted her openly and without reservation.

Lavinia beheld a Cedric curiously more familiar to her than the one she'd previously known. Travel-stained and tired-looking, by all rights he should have been even less attractive than before, but he was not. Somehow, maybe because the white shirt he wore showed his broad shoulders to advantage, or maybe because he carried a sword, he seemed more ... more like someone who knew exactly what he wanted, and how to get it. There was an air about him that she hadn't felt before and something stirred inside her in response to it.

Then Cedric stepped to one side with his characteristic awkward bow, and the spell was broken. "I hope you will forgive me, mademoiselle. My apologies if I startled you."

She was still a bit unsettled by the unexpected surge of emotion she'd felt at his sudden re-appearance. "M-mais non, monsieur. It is of no consequence, I assure you." She gestured towards the coat he carried over one arm. "You have just returned from your journey, n'est-ce pas?"

"Yes, I--"

She interrupted him because she had noticed something else. "Is that your supper, monsieur?"