The real world is where the monsters are ~ Rick Riordan

Chapter 9.

Return to Reality.

Beatrice was starting to get nervous. It was getting late, her mother would be home any minute, and Catrin and Mrs. Fairfax where still not in.

The slamming of the front door made Beatrice throw a shawl over her nightgown and hurry down stairs.

"Thank goodness!" she exclaimed when she saw Catrin and Mrs. Fairfax enter. "Hurry, hurry, we've got to get Catrin into her nightclothes before Mamma arrives." She grabbed her stepsister by the arm and dragged Catrin up the stairs to Beatrice's room.

Once inside Catrin hurriedly took the gloves off her hands while Beatrice undid the buttons and Amy pulled out the pins. Catrin was still stepping out of her dress when Beatrice already began pulling the nightgown over her head. Catrin bit her lip as Amy brushed her hair in a quick fashion, not bothering to be gentle about the knots. Amy then bound Catrin's hair into the customary night braid.

"Just run to your room, I'll handle the mess here," Beatrice said. With a grateful nod, Catrin slipped out and floated to her bedroom.

"Oh, Your Majesty," she dreamily said as she lifted the sleeping cat into her arms. "He had such a lovely voice, like the waves crashing on the shore. And the way he looked at me when we danced. How glad I am for that mask I had to wear, or my blush would have been so noticeable. He was the only partner I had tonight, but I could never have asked for a different one. Oh I wonder what he looks like, what his features are, what his name is."

Her Majesty glared at Catrin. "If you will put me down please," her eyes seemed to say. "You are interrupting my beauty sleep. I had a terrible evening, that horrible canine made my life perfectly miserable and Bea read some silly story filled with horrible monsters. Why did you leave her behind?"

A noise downstairs made Catrin place Her Majesty back in her royal bed and jump under the covers.

"I can't believe it worked," she whispered to herself. "Oh, thank you God for letting it work."

***

Mrs. Llewelyn was very tired. It had been a splendid dinner party and she had caught up on all the latest gossip, but it had of course worn her out and she was looking forward to a nice long rest. First things first, however. John, the butler, had informed her that Mrs. Fairfax and Beatrice had already returned. It was upsetting to know her daughter and left the ball so early. Mrs. Llewelyn was determined to speak to her daughter, reprimand her on her foolish behavior and discover how it went during the time Beatrice was there. She figured she could forgive Beatrice for departing early as long as she had stood up with Lord Woodworth and caught his attention.

Mrs. Llewelyn knocked on Beatrice's door but got no response. She tried the door, but like usual it was locked. Going over to Mrs. Fairfax's quarters she noticed the there was a light in the room and knocked on the door.

"Come in," Mrs. Fairfax's voice sounded on the other end.

"I hate to disturb you, Elinor," Mrs. Llewelyn said as she came in. "But I noticed the light and realized you were not asleep. John informed me you had only returned a few minutes before I did. Why so soon?"

Mrs. Fairfax silently braced herself for the attack and put on a tired smile. "Beatrice complained of a headache and we left early."

"She always complains of headaches, that is her sure ticket out of the ball." Mrs. Llewelyn fumed. "And if that doesn't work she faints. You ought to see her do it, it looks positively real. Why even I was taken in several times before I realized it was all a performance. You should not have bought her excuse."

"I could not forcefully keep her there, could I, Mariah? You know how Beatrice is."

"Yes, I do," Mrs. Llewelyn grumbled. "Insufferable daughter. How did the ball go?"

"Oh, very well. It was a little confusing to see everyone in masks, but that made it all the more delightful just the same. I think everyone of consequence was there. The Duke invited just about the entire upper class from the area."

"Oh ugh!" Mrs. Llewelyn frowned. "I do not like it when they invite 'everyone' of consequence. Tell me, did my Beatrice stand up with Lord Woodworth?"

"I cannot say. No one knew where his Lordship was. His identity was hidden by the mask he wore, and so it was impossible to know which of the many gentlemen was in fact Lord Woodworth."

"Oh, how horrible!" Mrs. Llewelyn fumed. "And I already got my hopes up. Now I shall have to come up with some sort of scheme to make sure they are introduced. I shall write Beatrice's uncle, he always gives me such wonderful advice. I have to say, my marriage to William Morton was beneficial in that it gave me such good connections. To think the Earl of Worthington is my brother-in-law."

Mrs. Fairfax had a lot of opinions on the matter of the Earl of Worthington, but she knew better than to voice them to a tired Mrs. Llewelyn. So all she did was let out a yawn.

"It is late, Mariah," she stated. "And I wish to retire."

"Of course you do," Mrs. Llewelyn quickly stood up. "Thank you for taking Beatrice to the ball. I shall tell you all about the dinner party tomorrow. There were many people there, most had gone off to the ball. Just a few of us older folk while the young ones danced. I caught up on all the latest gossip and must share it with you. But tomorrow, all that tomorrow. Goodnight, Elinor."

Mrs. Llewelyn departed from the room and went to her chambers. Her mind was busy at work trying to think of a way to get her daughter to meet Lord Woodworth since the ball didn't quite turn out as hoped for.

***

When the house had finally settled down, Catrin, who was much too excited to sleep, hopped out of bed and ran to the bedroom of her stepsister.

"Bea," she whispered urgently, knocking on the door, "Bea, open up it is Catie. Come on, you cannot be asleep yet. Hurry before Mamma wakes up and discovers me."

A snap sounded and the door opened, revealing a bedraggled and rather upset, Beatrice.

"For the love of mercy, Catie," she whispered, her voice drowsy and half asleep. "You just spent half the night at a stuffy ball; you should be exhausted and annoyed with the world. What are you doing here? It ten past one."

"Oh, I couldn't sleep, not now," Catrin giggled, slipping into the room and snuggling under Beatrice's covers. "I must tell someone of my evening. Oh, Bea, Bea, it was the most beautiful night in my life. So magical, just like I always dreamed it would be."

"I am happy to hear that," Beatrice said with a yawn and she climbed back into her bed. "Now go to sleep or you will get over tired and wake up with a bad headache."

"At first it didn't go so well." Catrin paid no attention to what Beatrice was saying and rambled on. "I was far too shy to do anything other than sit in the corner. But then, then I met someone. And in the most romantic way possible."

Beatrice gave a loud sigh.

"I went out into the garden to get a breath of fresh air and there he was. He had a mask on of course, but it didn't cover his whole face, just his eyes. Oh Bea, Bea, he had the most beautiful smile. And his voice, oh his voice, it sounded, well, it sounded like the sea."

"Like the sea?" Beatrice tried to make sense of what her stepsister was saying.

"Yes, but not the shallow part of the sea—and not the deep part either. You know that spot that is deep enough to drown a person but too shallow to sink a ship."

This ill attempt at description was more than Beatrice's soggy brain could handle.

"Catrin Llewelyn!" She burst out. "I order you to go to sleep. You are jabbering utter nonsense. Tomorrow morning when you have settled down a little and I am not so slumberous I will hear you out. For now please keep quiet. You are giving me a headache."

"Oh, very well," Catrin relented with another giggle. "May I sleep with you?"

"If you wish," Beatrice mumbled and rolled over. Catrin did not drift off so easily. She stared out the window at the dark sky. Feeling something wet on her hand, she saw Argos had walked up to the bed and nudged her with his nose.

"Argos," she said, sitting up and hugging the dog. "I know you will listen to me, dogs really are the best listeners. You sense my excitement, don't you?"

The dog wagged his tale and licked Catrin's face as if to say, "talk all you want, I shall be only too glad to listen."

"Oh, it was such a pity I did not catch his name," Catrin whispered into his ear. "Though it wouldn't have done me much good anyway, since I was technically pretending to be Beatrice. Still, it would have been nice to know who I was dancing with. And he seemed to be interested in me and my view point on different subjects. No one has ever been interested in me before. Dearest, sweetest Argos, could this be love, is this what it feels like? I hope it is. For it is the most wonderful feeling I have ever felt."

A loud huff from Beatrice's side of the bed made Catrin lie back down again. Argos jumped up on the bed and snuggled down in between the two girls.

"Tomorrow, Argos," Catrin promised. "Tomorrow I will tell you, and Bea, and Her Majesty all about it."

***

The rays of the sun glistened over the hills and fields of Wales. It was nearly noon and the road leading up to Llys Gwyn once more boasted of Charles Errol riding up to the large castle. Only it was not a bored, dull Charles. Rather a perplexed, annoyed Charles. He lost no time in entering the tower, where Raj once more greeted him and led him up the stairs to the dark, musty room and to the lone, miserable figure of Elwyn.

"How did the birthday ball go?" Elwyn asked in his thick, Welsh accent. "Am I to congratulate you on your upcoming wedding?"

"Of course not," Charles snorted. "Father, with the help of his great imagination, decided to host a masked ball. A masked ball! Everyone there was wearing masks. How could I choose a girl when I didn't even see her face? What if some hideous monster was hiding behind that mask? I don't know what possessed him, but if he is sad that I am still unattached, he has no one to blame but himself! I cannot believe it, I cannot..."

"Charles," Elwyn cut him off. "What on earth are you so upset about? I didn't think you would care if they had masks or not. According to what you told me earlier it was your father's job to find you a wife."

Charles heaved a sigh. "I met this girl last night."

"Oh?"

"She was such a funny thin. Couldn't stop talking for one second, and was very embarrassed because of it. She kept apologizing for talking nonsense, said she didn't know how to stop herself. I've never had anyone apologize for speaking nonsense before. And she had a fascinating view point on everything. For example, we spoke of humans and I said there was nothing interesting in people anymore and she came out and said that there is everything interesting in them, because no matter how well you get to know a person, they will still be a mystery to you because the mind is something that is hidden from view to everyone but the owner. Now, when have you ever heard a young lady say something like that? It was like she came here from another planet, and was dropped at the masquerade by mistake. There was this innocence surrounding her. Like she pertained a certain amount of childishness in herself, while being grown up at the same time. But the greatest catch of it all was when I asked for her name she introduced herself as Cinderella."

"Cinderella?"

"Aye Cinderella. When I prodded, she said that the whole purpose of the mask was that we would hide our identity from each other, so there was no point in giving real names. I bought it because I thought it was funny and in time I'd get to know who she really was. But at five to twelve she suddenly tells me she's overstayed her time and dashes off. By the time I got out of the house her carriage had already driven off. I never did catch her name. and what is worse, because she was wearing a mask. This means I do not know what she looked like, so even if I were to see her again, I wouldn't be able to recognize her."

"Was there no name mentioned at all?" Elwyn tried to hide his curiosity. He didn't want his cousin to think him as intrigued as he really was.

"Oh she mentioned a Beatrice once. Said something about her not liking dancing and how she isn't the sort of person who ever attends balls. That was the only name that came up. Only there was no last name attached to this Beatrice, so it doesn't do me any good. I tell you, Elwyn, I am convinced in the fairy tale about Cinderella the ball was truly a masked ball and that is why the prince couldn't remember who he was dancing with because her face was covered. At least he had a glass slipper, I don't have anything."

Elwyn nodded his head. "You really don't." He agreed with Charles. "So now what?"

"Now my father is upset because I didn't choose a girl but says he hasn't the energy to host another ball and so he's taking me to Bath."

"Why Bath?"

"Because apparently he has been complaining about a pain somewhere in his body and his doctor suggested spending a month or two in Bath. Supposedly the waters there will do him good. He will take me as he hopes I'll meet some more young ladies. I can't understand why that lazy man can't just pick out a girl for me."

"And I don't understand why the lazy you can't pick a girl for yourself," Elwyn replied.

"I did find a girl," Charles snapped. "It is just father and his great schemes made it impossible for me to really get to know her before she ran off. And all Father could do was laugh about how I need to learn to be more attentive when it comes to women."

Elwyn let out a dry chuckle. He felt sorry for his cousin, but knew him well know to understand Charles would get over his frustration in a few days. He wondered what type of woman Charles would end up marrying. Not like it really mattered, he would never meet the future Duchess of Denster. His days of society and the people in it were over. Forever.

***

"And there he was," Catrin's voice was dreamy. "Leaning against the porch, his arms resting on the railing, and his palms folded together. You know, like one does when he prays?"

Beatrice tried to keep the bored look off her face. It had been three days since the ball and this had to be the fiftieth time Catrin was relating the events. It was really the only thing she could talk about.

"I wish I could impersonate his voice," Catrin turned over to Beatrice. "It didn't have that Welsh accent to it, sounded positively British. And he gave me such a fright; I literally jumped when he spoke up." Catrin acted out her reaction to Charles' words. Argos barked with joy at her sudden movements, he loved it when things got lively in an otherwise very dull house.

"You don't have to be so loud," Her Majesty kindly informed him.

"I love sharing their joy," he retorted back to her. "Not everyone likes to be melancholy all day."

Her Majesty had many things she would like to say, but figured it really wasn't worth the trouble. The troublesome canine would never understand anyway. She turned her back to him and began grooming herself.

"And to think he asked to dance three dances." Catrin floated around the room, pretending to dance with an imaginary partner. "He was such a splendid dancer. It is a pity I had to leave the poor man just as the quadrille was beginning. He was so confused with how I broke free from his grasp. Yet I couldn't stay, it was nearly minute and I had stayed longer than intended. He chased me though, saying the night was young and asking to at least leave him with a name. I lost him at last and drove off with Mrs. Fairfax."

"Ironic how you got to be a literal Cinderella," Beatrice commented. "Though I am not surprised. Of course it would all be like a fairy tale for someone who reads them far too much. I am glad you had a good time, I just wish you would stop talking about it."

"You should have seen the way he was looking at me," Catrin was deaf to Beatrice. "Those deep, deep blue eyes. They were like an ocean of secrets. What a pity he was wearing a mask, I should have liked to see his whole face. I am sure he is very handsome. Oh, Bea, I am in love, and I am so happy."

Beatrice rolled her eyes. "Catrin Llewelyn, you are nothing of the sort."

"And why not?" Catrin put her dancing to a halt and glanced at her stepsister.

"You conversed with a man in a mask and then stood up with him twice. That is all you can say about him. How can you possibly be in love?"

"Don't you believe in love at first sight?"

"Catie, you fell for him because he was the first man in your life to show you some kind of attention. Please, realize that you have been locked up in this house for far too long and of course you are going to feel some foolish fancy for him. You really must pull yourself together. You don't know anything about him. What if he gambles? What if he womanizes? What if he spends money beyond his means? Those are just a few of the many faults he could possibly have."

"You do have a point, I guess." Catrin sighed and sat down. "Still, he gave me a delightful time, and I still wonder who he was."

"Perhaps it is best you do not know who he really is. That way you can keep a nice image of him in your mind without it being tainted and spoiled by real life. Keep him in the fairy tale that was last night and return to reality."

Catrin smiled and sitting down next to Her Majesty, pulled out her favorite Brothers' Grimm and flipped the pages to the story of Cinderella. It would be her favorite story from now on, thanks to last night.

The peace of the morning was interrupted by Mrs. Llewelyn, who came marching into the drawing room where the girls were sitting.

"Beatrice," she stated. "Hurry and collect you things, we are leaving within the next three hours."

"Where to?" Beatrice retorted as she stroked Argos.

"Bath."

"You said we would stay here till August at least. Why the sudden change?"

"Why, because I just had it from Mrs. Jones that the Duke has gone to Bath on account of his health and taken his son with him. Mrs. Jones is on her way to Bath as well and welcomed us to join her. It will be a wonderful opportunity for you to meet up with Lord Woodworth, seeing as you were not able to at the ball."

Beatrice turned her head angrily towards her mother. "Did you gossip to Mrs. Jones on how you are trying to match me with his Lordship?"

"What I discuss with Mrs. Jones is none of your business, Beatrice. Just hurry up and pack your things. Mrs. Jones' carriage will come in two hours and we have to be packed and ready by then."

"I am not going to Bath!" Beatrice snapped, turning back to her dog. "I don't want to have anything to do with that son of a Duke. You can't make me, Mamma!"

Mrs. Llewelyn marched up to her daughter and roughly grabbed her by the ear. Beatrice winced from the pain.

"Don't try this again, young lady," Mrs. Llewelyn warned. "I've already burned An Essay on Man and An Essay on Criticism. You want me to burn this as well?" Mrs. Llewelyn let go of Beatrice and showed the book she held in her right hand. Beatrice gasped when she realized it was The Odyssey.

"Did you get that from my room?" She demanded, attempting to snatch the book, but Mrs. Llewelyn was too quick and didn't let her.

"It is one quick motion that has this in the stove," she stated in a firm tone. "Your stubbornness will cost your dearly, Beatrice. You want me to destroy all of your father's books because of your disobedience?" Mrs. Llewelyn opened the book and slowly tore a page out.

Beatrice jumped to her feet. "Mamma!" She exclaimed.

With a smug grin Mrs. Llewelyn departed from the room. Beatrice ran after her and caught up just as her mother came to the stove. Shoving the cook aside, she lifted the lid and stuck the corner of the torn paper into the flames.

"Mamma, no!" Beatrice burst out in horror. The page had caught on fire by now, and Mrs. Llewelyn let the tip burn a little before blowing the fire out. She handed the marred page to Beatrice.

"Be ready to leave within the hour and I shall return the book to you, stay here and this is all you will have left of your father's book."

Catrin, who had followed Beatrice, grabbed her stepsister by the hand.

"I'll help you pack, Bea," she whispered. "Come on." She dragged Beatrice out of the kitchen and up the stairs.

Beatrice fought to keep the tears away as she clutched the smoky page.

"It was wicked of her, Beatrice," Catrin soothed as she sat her stepsister on the bed. "She shouldn't treat you like that. She shouldn't threaten to burn Mr. Morton's books. Did she really burn the other ones?"

Beatrice nodded her head. "She burned the entire Alexander Pope collection. And now she will destroy Homer as well."

"No, she won't! We won't let her. Come on, Bea, sometimes you have to play it her way. Let's pack your dresses. It's just a little visit, you can bear that for the sake of your favorite book. And who knows, perhaps you'll like Lord Woodworth."

"I hate him," Beatrice snapped. "He's the reason for this!" She traced the blackened corner of the page. "She tore it right out. Has she no respect for books?"

"Come on, Bea," Catrin reasoned. "I'll call Amy and we'll put your clothes into the trunks. We've only got an hour or Mamma will burn the entire book and there will be no way to get it back."

Beatrice sighed. Her mother was cunning, and like usual she knew how to corner her daughter. Beatrice couldn't get out of it this time, not while her mother had possession of her favorite book.