Mr. Jonathan, the coachman, rode the carriage into the widest compound Esmeralda and Jeanette had ever laid eyes on. The gravel crunched beneath the carriage wheels, echoing through the vast open space. Towering iron gates had opened to admit them, and now the carriage glided through rows of tall, immaculately trimmed hedges. Guards stood at every corner in crisp uniforms, motionless but watchful, their presence a reminder of the importance of the evening's host.
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Carriages filled the expansive grounds like a well-orchestrated parade, each vehicle elegant and polished, their horses groomed to perfection. Lamps lining the long driveway cast golden light on the scene, and guests in shimmering gowns and sharp-tailored coats moved about like fireflies. It was difficult to tell who belonged to which class — nobility, merchants, or modest villagers — for tonight, every soul seemed wrapped in satin and splendor.
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The carriage rolled further forward, past fountains that danced with light, their waters dyed pink and gold by the setting sun. Then, as the last bend of the drive gave way, Esmeralda and Jeanette gasped.
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Before them stood the Duke's mansion.
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It rose like a palace carved from marble and dreams. Columns as wide as trees supported a high portico. Statues of lions, angels, and heroes lined the grand steps. Rows of massive windows reflected the torchlight outside, casting the illusion that stars twinkled on the very walls. Vines laced the balconies like emerald lace, and the duke’s crest, a rampant stag, gleamed in gold above the front entrance.
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"Wow..." Jeanette breathed, her eyes fixed on the mansion through the carriage window.
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Jonathan guided the horses to a smooth stop near the front. He climbed down and opened the door with a small bow. "What time shall I arrive to pick miladies up?"
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Still caught in awe, the girls stepped down carefully.
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"Shall the hour of ten be good?" Jonathan added, standing at attention.
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"I suppose not. Ten is much late," Esmeralda replied, tearing her gaze from the mansion. "Come by nine."
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He nodded. "As milady wishes."
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The girls took tentative steps toward the entrance. Soft music floated from inside the mansion—violins, cellos, a harp. Footmen in deep navy coats opened the doors for them, ushering them into a grand foyer where white marble stretched beneath their feet, gleaming like ice. A chandelier hung from the ceiling, an intricate web of crystal and candlelight that bathed the room in warmth.
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Esmeralda felt her breath catch again.
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"Is this what heaven looks like?" Jeanette whispered.
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"It must certainly be."
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The ball was already in motion. Ladies and gentlemen swept across the ballroom floor in perfect rhythm, their gowns spinning like blossoms on a breeze. Gilded mirrors lined the walls, reflecting hundreds of flickering candles and the endless parade of dancers. At the far end of the room, a raised platform held the orchestra, all dressed in black, playing a lively waltz.
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Tables flanked the perimeter of the room, adorned with delicacies: sugared fruits, glazed meats, breads wrapped in fine cloth, and towers of sweets too elegant to touch. Golden trays held crystal glasses filled with pale champagne and jewel-colored cordials. A long buffet showcased the Duke's generosity: spiced pheasant, duck glazed with honey, oysters in chilled crystal bowls, and soufflés that shimmered as if dusted with silver.
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Esmeralda and Jeanette took a moment to soak it all in before merging with the crowd. They barely had a chance to adjust before a tall, striking gentleman in a mulberry coat approached Jeanette with a courteous bow.
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"I noticed you had just arrived. It would be an honour to have your first dance."
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He was handsome, with sharp cheekbones and bluish hair swept neatly back. His cufflinks sparkled, and he carried himself like someone who never wanted for anything.
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Jeanette glanced once at Esmeralda, then turned back with a smile. "Yes, of course."
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They disappeared into the swirl of dancers.
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Esmeralda watched them for a moment, her lips pressed into a small smile. She turned to fetch a drink when another gentleman approached her. He was handsome, too, with kind eyes and a strong jaw, but there was something unremarkable about him.
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"Would you grant me the honor of this dance, Milady?" he asked.
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She hesitated, about to reject the offer but thought otherwise. "Of course you may."
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He smiled, and soon they joined the sea of twirling couples. The music carried them, the polished floor gliding beneath their feet.
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"May I know the name that you bear, milady?"
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"Esmeralda." She answered. "I would love to know yours." She didn't particularly care but that was to keep the conversation going as she had already accepted to dance with him.
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"Oh my name is Darlington, milady."
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"Such a lovely name you bear." She complimented with a tight smile.
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Darlington asked many other questions, Esmeralda answered politely, but her heart wasn't entirely in it.
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After their first dance, the ladies met again by the refreshments.
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"He asked if he could write to me," Jeanette said, fanning herself with a folded napkin, cheeks flushed from excitement.
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"Who? The first one?" Esmeralda had noticed Jeanette danced with a second person after the first who came for her hand.
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Jeanette grinned. "Both. I said yes."
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She sipped from her glass and gave Esmeralda a well-known mischievous look. "Did the gentleman you danced with ask too?"
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Esmeralda nodded. "He did."
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"And?"
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She gave a small shrug. "I said no."
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Jeanette blinked. "What? Why not?"
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"He weren't it for me."
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Jeanette shook her head in disbelief. "You're too picky. He didn't even look particularly wealthy."
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They both laughed at her comment, then nibbled at a small tray of delicate pastries filled with cream and raspberries. The next song began, and a third gentleman came forward, this time asking Jeanette. He was tall, with blond hair and a military bearing. She accepted instantly, already slipping back into the dance.
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Esmeralda watched them fade into the crowd. A gentle breeze drifted in from the open terrace doors, bringing the scent of roses. She needed air and so she stepped out into the gardens.
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