~ Strange Masks ~
by Lady T. L. Jennings
www.mysecretquill.com
“Look! What is that, over there?” Isabella was pointing at an object under a dusty sheet in the corner of the attic, which turned out to be an old wooden chest. The two sisters and their cousin immediately started to try to open it.
“It is stuck, it will not open!” said Mary disappointed.
“Oh, step a side little sister, and let me have a try,” said Isabella. “After all, I was the one who found it.”
“I think actually that I should have a try, after all, I am the oldest one here,” interrupted Jane, their cousin, sweeping her brown curly hair out of her eyes.
After much debating and fussing, they managed to open the antique chest. The metal from the hinges creaked a little. They looked into the chest curiously, pushing each other to have a better look its content.
“What on Earth is that?” asked Mary.
“I- I do not know really,” said Jane looking down at the face-shaped items in black and white.
“I know what it is!” Isabella cried out with triumph in her voice. “Look,” she said and grabbed one of the objects and held it up in the weak light. “These are masks! Masks, which are meant to be used during a masquerade!”
The silence held for about three seconds and then the two sisters and their cousin left the attic running down the stairs and screaming to each others.
*
Oh, no. The peace is over for to day, Thomas Wilson sighed and lowered the newspaper as he heard the girls trampling down the stairs, talking loudly to each other.
“Papa! Papa! You have to see what I found,” yelled Isabella.
“Uncle Thomas, Uncle Thomas! Look at this!” screamed Jane waving a mask above her head.
“Papa, can we please arrange a masquerade, please? Please say yes! You have to!” Mary added to the general ruckus as they stormed in to Thomas’ study, a nice room with wooden panels, a large oriental rug and several bookcases filled with books.
Thomas closed the newspaper with another sigh. He was just reading about “The Great Exhibition” which had been held at the Crystal Palace in London, where attractions such as hydraulic presses and steam hammers had been on display.
“Girls! For heaven’s sake what are you talking about? And please, one at the time. You, Jane, my daughters are not making any sense, perhaps you could enlighten me?”
Both Isabella and Mary blushed, but Jane cleared her throat and said:
“Sir, we found an old chest in the attic. Inside we found strange masks of an inquiring design.”
Isabella was waving one of the masks to show her father. It had an oversized beak instead of a normal nose and slanted slits for the eyes.
“And, well…” continued Jane. “We thought that maybe, if you do not think I am to bold to suggest it, we could hold a masquerade, here at the mansion, if you would agree of course.”
The both sisters were nodding enthusiastic behind Jane her to show their father what an excellent idea this was.
“A masquerade you say…” Thomas mused with a blank expression. “I think I recognize those masks... I think that my grandfather brought with him from one of his trips to Venice. There was a story behind them, but I cannot remember it…” he trailed off, absently stroking his graying moustache.
“So, Father, is that a yes? Can we arrange a masquerade then?” asked Isabella in her sweetest voice.
“Please?” begged Mary and tilted her head to one side. “I mean, we had to cancel the spring reception, since Mama took ill and Isabella and I never had the opportunity to wear the new evening dresses from London. Oh, and Jane will go back to Ipswich in just a couple of weeks,” she added rapidly, since she realized that her father would never ever grasp the full importance of dresses.
“Girls! Really!” said Thomas and they immediately fell silent and tried to look as well-behaved as possible, even though they were covered in dust and Isabella had spider webs in her hair. Thomas looked at his two youngest daughters and his favorite niece and knew that he already had lost this battle.
“I will talk to you mother about it.” He continued and looked sternly at his daughters, who gave up a cry of disappointment echoed by Jane.
“A-aha! Only well-behaved daughters and nieces get to attend any plausible future masquerade!” he said, interrupting their wailing.
“Yes, Father,” said Isabella with a curtsy.
“Of course, Uncle Thomas,” said Jane and made a curtsy as well.
“As you say, Father,” added Mary and spread her dusty dress and made a curtsy too.
“We do not want to disturb your studies any further, and we will leave you now. Thank you for taking your time with us. Come little sister and cousin, let us leave Father in peace”, said Isabella and the young women left the room quietly.
Thomas sighed again.
*
“Do you really think Lord Barlow will come tonight?” asked Mary as she fidgeted with her fair coiled hair in front of the dressing table.
“Is he not to old for you,” teased Isabella who was standing behind her and examined her own figure and the new emerald green evening dress in the mirror critical and continued: “Maybe he is looking for an older, more mature woman.”
“Oh! Like you ever going to get married! You are already nineteen, practical an old hag!” screamed Mary and threw the hairbrush at Isabella, who ducked.
“Jane was nineteen when she married last summer, was she not?” Isabella retorted.
“Do not involve me in your argument, please,” said Jane who was concentrating on putting on a golden necklace.
“What if I never get married?” said Mary in a worried voice.
“Yes, it must be a terrible fate. You will continue to live with our parents and never have children or your own family. But ask Jane, she knows all the tricks for a good match,” said Isabella and helped Mary with her black and white mask, which were decorated with blue feathers, matching the sky-blue evening dress that Mary was wearing. She then helped Jane with her necklace.
“Thank you,” said Jane. “And, well yes, I consider myself very fortunate that I got married last year.” She smiled mischievously and added in a snotty voice: “In fact, I would never ever want to spend so much energy on gossiping about future husbands like you do!”
“I beg your pardon!” Isabella exclaimed with a smile. “Well, then. Tell us about your marriage,” she said slyly, adjusting her own mask with the long beak instead of a regular nose.
“You will have to find out for yourself one day,” smiled Jane. “Oh! I forgot my mask in my room. I must go and collect it before the guest will start to arrive. I will meet you downstairs in a moment.”
*
Jane lingered a while in her room before she went downstairs. She had been in this room every summer as long as she could remember, but this was the first summer she had arrived as Mrs. Campbell and not as Miss Lewis and she could not help that she deep down missed to be Miss Lewis. The matrimonial bliss had yet to occur, but how could it, when Mr. Campbell never was around?
And what about children? Jane thought to herself, half mockingly and half sad. How could there be any children if Mr. Campbell always was traveling to London.
Aunt Henrietta had carefully asked in the beginning of the summer if she had any delicate questions, which only could be discussed between married ladies. She had said that she had no questions and had added that sometimes certain things took longer time than others. Sweet stout Aunt Henrietta, who had given birth to eight children, had given her a knowingly smile and agreed and said that patience is a virtue.
Mr. Campbell -my husband- is sweet and young, Jane thought and had started to walk back and forth absentminded. Not twice my age, which sometimes is the case for younger brides. He also was a very good catch, so everyone had agreed about. I should be very grateful and nothing else. He also was quite handsome. Tall and slender built, with clear green eyes and dark brown hair, what else could I possibly wish for?
Jane sat down restlessly in a leathered winged chair. Oh, Jane, be honest with yourself and stop acting like a girl. As a married woman, should you not admit- at least to yourself- that two attempts of…physical contact, during a whole year, might be too… seldom for a newly wedded couple? That was the question she would have liked to ask to Aunt Henrietta.
She thought about their wedding night. Oh, how she blushed at the memory. It had been a long day, with celebrations and all, until they finally had went to bed. Both of them had been nervous, she was sure about that and she tried to make everything as easy as possible. She had lain completely still as Mr. Campbell had taken of her nightgown and his own and kissed her gently, while he spread her legs. It had not been to bad, only hurt a little and it had not last very long. She thought secretly and perhaps wickedly that maybe, just maybe, she might even enjoy it with some practice. But months went by and even although Jane went to bed early she rarely had company. Mr. Campbell usually sat up late in his study or went to London in business. Before Christmas, when Mr. Campbell had arrived back to Ipswich after a long business trip, they had repeated the procedure awkwardly. Mr. Campbell sent wonderful gifts from London and seemed to enjoy her company, in a nervous way perhaps, but Jane could not help to wondering if he avoided her.
The sun was going down and the last rays cast long shadows over her old bed. She tied the long velvet ribbons behind her head and adjusted her checked smiling mask with jester bells in front of her dressing table. For some reason it felt better wearing the smiling mask, instead of her own smile. Downstairs it sounded like the party already had begun.
*
Jane walked down the large stairs, looking for Mary and Jane, but realized the futility of it, since everyone was wearing the black and white masks, which were given to each guest upon their arrival. Even the serving men and the little orchestra in the corner were wearing them. She managed to get a glass of punch which she sipped on while she searched for her cousins. She thought she recognized Isabella dancing, with her new green dress and long-nosed mask and decided to join the dance.
The dance was the classic dance which were held at practical all balls or social gatherings, but Jane thought that either the music played a little to fast or she had drunken the punch a little to swift, because she kept seeing strange things going on in the corner of her eyes. Every time she had tried to get a proper look, a new dancing partner, wearing different masks, arrived in front of her distracting her. She thought she caught a glance of two persons kissing, half hidden behind a curtain.
That could absolutely not be one of the servants kissing Mary, could it? Jane thought alarmed, after recognizing Mary’s sky-blue dress from London together with her checked mask, decorated with feathers. She had to end this dance immediately, and begged her next dancing partner pardon and stepped away, leaving her spot of the surprised woman behind her.
As she left the dance and finally had the opportunity to have a proper look around the room she was shocked at the scene before her. The drawing room was large, and the dancing event and orchestra took up most of the space, but around it chairs were placed for guest resting or watching the dance while taking refreshment. This night however, the guests were acting odd, very odd indeed.
She could see a man and a woman, both wearing masks sitting -no half laying!- on a loveseat, while kissing each other in a most indiscrete way which were not suitable at parties. Even worse, a member of the orchestra lay on the floor, straddled by a plump woman, and was actually to Jane’s shocked astonishment stroking the woman’s breast through the velvet fabric of her gown. No one seamed to mind or care.
“What is going on here?” she asked out loud as she tried not to look anywhere except at her feet as she approached the corner where she had sighted Mary.
“Going somewhere?” a man asked and grabbed her wrist as she passed by. She had not noticed the person as she walked by, but when she tried to turn, he took hold on her other arm, so that it was impossible to turn around. “I have not seen your earlier tonight,” he whispered in her ear.
“Please, let go off me instantly! I am terribly sorry to inform you, but somehow everyone has gone quite mad. It could be something with the punch maybe…” She trailed off, as the man leaned against her.
“But you do not want me to let go, now do you?” he said in her ear and to her surprise she realized that the unknown man was right. In fact she wanted something else, something quite the opposite.
“Well, I… I must go to Mary! I think she is in trouble,” she said nervously.
“But she is not, look for yourself,” the anonymous man said and she could feel his breath against her cheek.
He was right, at least in a way. Mary -if indeed it was Mary- was by now engaged with both the servant and one of the guests. One of the female guests. She was sitting in front of Mary and kissing her tenderly, while the serving man was undoing the many buttons on the back of the sky-blue dress. Mary on the other hand seamed to enjoy the experience, and one of her hands had slipped underneath the woman’s elegant dress.
“Oh, my God, what are they doing? Someone should stop them…” Jane started to say, when suddenly she felt a hand slowly moving along her waist. She looked down and saw dazed that the hand traveling along her waist until it reached her chest.
He is wearing a very expensive looking pleated coat, she thought distracted and struggled weakly to be free, but only managed to press herself closer to the stranger holding her. She became conscious of the fact that she could feel his whole body against her back, which added to her confusion and growing pleasure.
This was wrong, Jane thought distantly, but abandoned the thought completely as her captor started to touch her breast. She wanted him to stop, but also at the exact same time to continue!
She pressed herself firmer against him as he slid his fingers insider her mouth. She was pleased to hear him moan quietly as she started to lick his fingers and the moan grew to something else as she discovered that he also liked that she sucked on his fingers as they slid in and out of her mouth. His fingers left her mouth and she felt him undo her evening gown, which fell to the floor. He then let his hand wandering under the many layers of her silk undergown, while he gently rocked her back and forth against his hard body. When she was ready to come he brought her down on the floor and there, in front of everybody, and only half dressed he entered her with slowly delicate determination. He continued rhythmically, until she cried out and begged him to continue, to take her, to come inside her, without even knowing his name.
*
Episode One
They burned all the black and white masks together with the old wooden chest they found them in the day after in the backyard. No one ever spoke about all the dreadful and shameful things that had occurred, but quite a few remembered dimly what had happened and it was secretly and silently agreed that it had been the best masquerade ever.
Episode Two
“Granny, Granny! Look what we have found in the attic.”
***
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Copyrighted material:
Lady T. L. Jennings. www.mysecretquill.com
