Her heart swelled with an emotion she had never felt before. Did she dare call it love? For the second time tonight, she suspected her heart had ignored all her warnings that falling in love with the forester was imprudent and impossible. Oh, dear heaven, what am I to do now?
Her hand came up and touched her lips. Would the memory of his kiss fade? Would she forget the feelings he had created inside her? Let it never be. She wanted to remember them forever.
Rutger had led her to a handsome woman and her equally handsome daughter. Odette blinked, trying to concentrate on what Rutger was saying. He had just presented her to them, and they were staring at her. She quickly sank into a curtsy.
She had to stop thinking about Jorgen and his kiss, at least while Rutger was having her meet all these distinguished people. Her thoughts were in a fog, but she managed to mumble appropriate responses to what they were saying to her, if their languid smiles were any indication.
Rutger took her to meet several more people, and to speak to prominent people she had met before, like Mathis Papendorp’s father and mother. Several of them commented on how beautiful her mask and dress were, and she was grateful to Rutger for them. She could remember as a child wearing old, stained, and ill-fitting clothing, of people wrinkling their noses at her or otherwise making her feel like an outcast.
An earl’s son asked her to dance. She almost felt as if she were being disloyal to Jorgen as she joined the young man on the floor. She tried to behave in her most elegant manner, but her heart was not in the dance, and she found herself looking around for Jorgen.
When it was over, Rutger appeared by her side. “Let me take you to get something to drink. You must be thirsty.”
“I am thirsty, thank you.” She followed Rutger to the opposite end of the room where a table was spread with food and drink.
“Try this, my dear. I think it will revive you.” Rutger placed a goblet in her hand.
“What is it?”
“Fruit compote, I think.”
It was the same red color as the drink Odette liked so much, made from the juice of boiled cherries and other fruit. As she swallowed, she took a second gulp into her mouth, then choked. The liquid burned her throat like a fire. She coughed and sputtered, trying not to spew the drink out of her mouth, with no choice but to swallow the second gulp.
“Ugh! What is that?”
“Is it not fruit compote?”
“No, indeed. I believe it is some kind of strong spirits.”
“Oh dear. Is there some water?” Rutger addressed the servants waiting on the table.
A servant handed her another goblet. Odette took a sip. Tasting water, she drank several large gulps. The cool water took a bit of the sting out of her throat.
Already a warmth was spreading over her forehead. She drank some more water, hoping it would make her feel better. She had never drunk anything stronger than watered wine.
“I hope no one can smell that on my breath.”
“I would not worry,” Rutger said. “Perhaps you would like to lie down for a bit.”
“No, I am well. I just need to eat something and then I shall feel better.” She chose a gooseberry tart and took a bite, hoping it would take the taste of the strong drink out of her mouth, and the smell as well.
“Very well, but I think you should at least sit for a few moments.” Rutger placed his hand under her elbow, so she let him steer her through the doorway and into a small chamber with cushioned benches.
A lady was lying down on one of the couches while a servant fanned her face. Odette sat on another one.
“Go on and lie down,” Rutger said. “I shall come and make sure you are well in a few moments. And why don’t you take off your mask so you won’t get too warm.”
Since she wanted to do as he asked and had no desire to meet any more of the aristocratic people he had been introducing her to, she pulled off the mask, lay down, and closed her eyes.
After a few moments of taking deep breaths and feeling the air on her unmasked face, she sat up. She didn’t want to ruin the feathers in her hair.
She took another bite of her gooseberry tart, which she still held in her hand. The tart was rich with cream and was the best she had ever tasted. Unfortunately, Rutger had placed her goblet of water on the table out in the ballroom, but she managed to swallow the rest of the tart.
She began to feel restless. Perhaps she should go back into the ballroom. But when she looked around for her mask, she didn’t see it. Where had she placed it? Had she not put it on the floor beside her? She must have, but it was not there. She bent and looked under the bench she had been lying on, but it was not there either.