Daring ideas are like chessmen moved forward. They may be beaten, but they may start a winning game. ~ Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

Chapter 6.

An Invitation to a Ball.

Catrin and Beatrice sat in the drawing room, busy at a game of chess. Beatrice was thinking hard on how to get her king out of check when Mrs. Llewelyn came rushing in.

"My dearest Beatrice, you will never, ever guess what I am about to tell you!"

"Surprise me," Beatrice challenged in an uninterested way as she placed her rook in front of her king, even though she knew she would lose it to Catrin.

"George Errol, the Duke of Denster is hosting a large masquerade ball!"

"Oh, I am so surprised." The voice, so flat and bored, did not match the words spoken and caused Catrin to stifle her giggle. She promptly took Beatrice's rook with her queen, only to have Beatrice use her king to rob Catrin of the strongest figure on the board.

"That is not fair!" Catrin grumbled.

"All is fair in love and war," Beatrice replied with a triumphant laugh.

"Beatrice Morton did you hear what I said?" Mrs. Llewelyn was very upset that her daughter was ignoring her.

"Something about a ball," Beatrice answered, thinking hard on how to somehow trap Catrin's king.

"Beatrice, put that game to a halt and give me your attention!" Mrs. Llewelyn commanded. Catrin nudged Beatrice with her foot and Beatrice rolled her eyes before turning her face to her mother.

"I am listening.".

"The Duke of Denster is hosting a ball in honor of his son's birthday and we have been invited."

"And when is this ball?" Beatrice asked with a yawn. Catrin's eyes grew wistful. Of course when her stepmother had said 'we have been invited' it meant Beatrice and Mrs. Llewelyn were invited. No one even knew of poor little Catrin. How could they when she had never been presented to society?

"It will be held in four weeks time, on the 31st of May. And to think Denster Hall is a mere ten-twelve miles from here."

"But you are engaged, Mamma, so we cannot go." Beatrice concluded and turned her attention back to the chess board.

"I am engaged?" Mrs. Llewelyn asked in surprise.

"Of course you are. Mr. and Mrs. Jones are hosting a dinner party to which you have been invited."

"Oh, cribbage!" Mrs. Llewelyn frowned. "I had forgotten all about that. The Jones always have their dinner party in the end of May. But I think they will understand if I decline the invitation. We cannot miss this chance, Beatrice. Charles Errol, or Lord Woodworth as I ought to call him, is the heir to Denster Hall! When his father dies away he will inherited the title of Duke and if you are to marry him, you will become Duchess."

"Which is of course something I always wanted to become!" Beatrice flatly retorted "Mamma if you wish to go to the ball, you may. Who knows, perhaps His Lordship will take a fancy to you and make you his duchess."

"Beatrice!" Mrs. Llewelyn gasped at her daughter's disrespect.

"But I am not going to go and have you try and marry me to the Denster heir."

Mrs. Llewelyn glanced over at Catrin. "Catie, if you will excuse us," she commanded. Catrin nodded her head and rising from the table, left the room.

"If you really want to take someone to that silly ball," Beatrice said once Catrin was gone. "You make take Catie."

"Catie is not out yet."

"Then let this be her coming out ball. Mamma, you cannot keep her locked away forever."

"I do not intend to keep her 'locked away' forever. And if you are upset about Catrin not being out, you have no one to blame but yourself! I thought I made it clear that when you have married and settled down, I will present Catrin to society."

"Mamma, this is ridiculous," Beatrice angrily rose and glared at her mother. "You cannot play favorites. Are you afraid that Catie might steal some good match from me? Is that why you keep her safely tucked away on the manor? I will not have it. I am not going to play along with this manipulation game of yours. I refuse to go to the ball and that is final!"

"Young lady, I am not asking you! You are going to the ball and that is an order!"

"Orders from you mean nothing to me," Beatrice snapped. She glared at her mother a look of contempt and marched out of the drawing room. Mrs. Llewelyn followed her up the stairs only to have the door to Beatrice's room slammed in her face.

"Beatrice Morton, don't have me get someone to break down this door!" Mrs. Llewelyn threatened. In reply all she received was the loud music of Beethoven's fourth as Beatrice thumped out the notes to drown her mother's voice.

Mariah Llewelyn fumed at her daughter. She was seriously thinking of having Abner break down the door when an idea came to her. She went to Catrin's room, where Catrin was looking out the window with Her Majesty sitting on her lap.

"Catrin," Mrs. Llewelyn put on a gentle tone. "Go to Beatrice and convince her to attend the ball! I cannot get through to her, but you just might. She always listens to you. Beatrice must marry! Do this for me, my dear. I fear I shall become ill from her behavior. You do not wish for me to become ill, do you? My nerves can only take so much."

Catrin let out a sigh and rising from her seat placed Her Majesty on the bed. Departing from her room she went off to do as her stepmother had asked. Knocking on the door she loudly called. "Bea, it is Catie."

The piano music stopped and presently the door opened and Beatrice let her stepsister in.

"Bea, why don't you want to go to the ball?" Catrin prodded.

"Because the only reason Mamma wants me to go is so she can marry me to Lord Woodworth. I am tired of her match making schemes. I have no desire to marry into the aristocracy and I shan't!"

"But maybe his Lordship is your one true love."

"Catrin!" Beatrice rolled her eyes. "Did Mamma send you up here?"

Catrin nodded.

"Don't let her use you, Catie. I refuse to play things her way. She doesn't have the right to treat me like this. I am not a pawn on her chess board, and you shouldn't be one either."

"But you never know something unless you have tried it, Bea," Catrin argued. "Maybe you and Lord Woodworth will make a match of it. Perhaps this is your opportunity to finally find the man you are looking for. Don't let your stubbornness and rebellious nature make you miss out on what may be a once in a lifetime opportunity."

Catrin's last sentence struck Beatrice and she gazed intently at the innocent face of her stepsister. Catrin wondered at the strange expression that suddenly came across Beatrice, and guessed she was once again coming up with some scheme. Only instead of sharing it with Catrin, Beatrice rose suddenly and departed from her room in search of her mother.

She at last found her in the breakfast room and lost no time in getting straight to the point. "Mamma, you remember how you invited Mrs. Fairfax, my godmother, to come and spend the summer with us?"

"Yes?"

"Well, I agree to go to the ball but only if Mrs. Fairfax will take me. That way you can go to your dinner party and I shall be at ease and not have you down my back. Who knows, if you are not there to make me nervous, I may actually enjoy myself."

"Beatrice Morton, how can you be so rude?" Mrs. Llewelyn was hurt by her daughter's words. And yet, despite the terrible attitude of Beatrice, Mrs. Llewelyn had to admit it was a convenient solution. The Jones were a good standing family in the community and she wanted to keep friends with them. If Mrs. Fairfax took Beatrice to the ball they would all benefit. Beatrice was also more open to Mrs. Fairfax's advice. If Mrs. Llewelyn spoke to her daughter's godmother beforehand and impressed upon her the importance of her daughter catching the eye of the Denster heir, Mrs. Fairfax might be able to influence Beatrice to finally see reason.

"Apologize for your words, Beatrice, and I may go along with your idea." She stated at last. Beatrice was tempted to retort something very nasty, but decided to lower her pride for the sake of her plan.

"Forgive me, Mamma." She mumbled insincerely.

Mrs. Llewelyn gave a slight nod. "It is a good plan. I will not have to miss the dinner party and you will dance with the Denster heir. You are very pretty, Beatrice, I know he will like you."

"I shall be wearing a mask, Mamma, so it will not make much of a difference."

"Then you must entice him with entertaining conversation. You are not to be quiet and cross as at the other balls. I hear Lord Woodworth is a handsome man, and he has only recently returned from Oxford. He has a vast amount of knowledge, you like men who know things, Beatrice. It shouldn't be hard for you to find topics on which to speak. But don't give away all you know, men do not like women who are smart and know everything. Allow him to boast and impress you, but don't appear too gullible."

Beatrice gave a wry smile at her mother's annoying advice and walked off, only to have Mrs. Llewelyn call her back.

"You need a new gown, Beatrice. None of your old ones will do!"

"I shall have Mrs. Fairfax bring the latest fashion from London."

"Oh my child, my child," Mrs. Llewelyn took her daughter by the hands. "At last you have come to your senses. Shall I write Mrs. Fairfax?"

"That will not be necessary, Mamma, I will do it myself. And do not fear, I shall be very particular about the dress."

"I knew you would see things my way," Mrs. Llewelyn beamed. "You go and write her this instant. Abner can take it to the town the moment you are done. I even forgive you for your rudeness when you first entered."

Beatrice nodded her head and hastily returned to her room.

"So, you are going to the ball after all?" Catrin asked.

"Mamma thinks I am," Beatrice replied with a triumphant smile. "But of course I shall not go anywhere."

"Bea, whatever could you mean." Catrin was very confused.

"I mean I shall give Mamma the slip and she will never even know." Beatrice was very pleased with herself. She plopped down on the bed and kissed her dear Argos on the nose. The dog, seeing his mistress very happy, wagged his tale to show her that he was rejoicing too. Beatrice let out a sigh. "Oh Catrin, sometimes I wish people could love in the same way dogs do. Look at Argos, he is happy just because I am happy. His devotion doesn't stem from anything but a love for me as his mistress. He would give his life for me, I know he would. He doesn't know I am wicked and cross, to him I am loving and good and true."

Catrin was perplexed at the sudden good mood of her stepsister. "Beatrice, you are not making any sense. How shall you give Mamma the slip?"

"My godmother, Mrs. Fairfax is coming to visit us. She will be here around the time of the ball. I informed Mamma that she could go to her dinner party and Mrs. Fairfax would take me to the ball."

Catrin was still confused. "But you will still have to go. Mamma is sure to find out if Miss Beatrice Morton will not make an appearance at the masquerade."

"Oh I shall make an appearance," Beatrice giggled. "That is to say, everyone shall think I will make an appearance. How inspired of that old duke to make the ball a masquerade. What fun we shall all have. You, Catrin Llewelyn, will pretend to be me and go in my stead."

"Bea, no!" Catrin's face lost several shades of color. "I could never pretend to be you. Such a thing is impossible. If I were your identical twin, perhaps this would work, but we do not look anything like each other."

"Silly," Beatrice laughed. "Did I not say this was a masquerade? You will wear a mask and no one will know who is behind it."

"But Mamma will be sure to notice."

"But Mamma will not be there. She will leave early for her dinner party and when the coast is clear you and Mrs. Fairfax will go to the ball."

"Bea...I...I..." Catrin was torn. To go to a ball at last? Oh she wanted that so badly! But there were so many obstacles along the way.

"I have got no gown," she brought up the first problem.

"Mrs. Fairfax will solve that," Beatrice reassured with a laugh. "Mamma wanted me to get a new gown anyway and I shall write her and tell her to bring one for you instead."

"But I do not look like you. My hair is light brown and straight while yours is black and curly."

"There is a reason why powder and curling irons were invented," Beatrice replied. "We shall curl your hair and you can say you applied powder to it. Besides, I am not well known in the community, for I rarely make any appearances at the balls here. Mamma is too busy carting me off to London and Bath."

"I do not speak like you. I've lived in Wales my entire life; I have never gone further than twenty miles from my home. You grew up in Oxford and London; you speak with a London accent."

"I will teach you how to be me," Beatrice soothed. "We have four weeks to prepare. Come on, Catie, you just said yourself that this was a once in a lifetime opportunity. You have a chance to know what a ball is really like, and you will be doing me a great favor while you are at it, for you know how much I do not want to go."

Catrin bit her lip, thinking hard.

"You shall be me," Beatrice continued to coax her. "And I shall be you. You go have men gawk at you and while I sit at home and read books to Her Majesty."

"Oh you have convinced me to give it a try," Catrin gave in at last. "But if the plan fails it will be on your neck."

"Agreed!" Beatrice jumped from her bed and grabbed Catrin's hands. "Now, I have four weeks to prepare you for all that will be expected of you. Oh, what a capital scheme this is."

"I only hope it works," Catrin added with a laugh and embraced her stepsister. "If Mamma finds out the truth she will kill us both."

"Oh it will, trust me, it will." Beatrice reassured. She had full faith in her plan. As long as Catrin left after Mamma departed and returned before Mamma got back it would all remain safe. That reminded her. Beatrice had to find out just how long Mamma planned to stay at the party, so they could make sure Catie returned on time.

There was so much to get done and only one month to do it all. First thing was first, however. Beatrice sat down at her table and opening the ink bottle dipped her pen and wiping the tip on her sleeve to get the extra ink off she began writing a letter to her godmother. This whole scheme would only be pulled off in Mrs. Fairfax agreed to help them out.