Page 54 of A Troublesome Circumstance

“And I am going to end it,” their mother declared, turning towards the main door with purposeful strides. “Come along. We have a ball to attend.”

The butler approached with three masks laid neatly on a silver tray.

Josephine lifted hers. A plume of tall pink feathers swept dramatically upward, one feather so long it nearly curled before her. “Why does my mask have so many feathers?”

“To hide as much of your face as possible,” Alexander said.

“Goodness, no,” their mother huffed. “It is to hide the stitches on your forehead.”

“But won’t people see them during the unveiling?” Josephine asked anxiously.

“Smart,” Alexander said as he opened the door. “You should keep your mask on all night so as not to frighten children.”

“Was that truly necessary?” their mother asked him sternly.

“It was for me,” he said, his tone unapologetic. “But in seriousness, Josephine, we don’t need people asking questions about your injury.”

Josephine stepped out into the crisp night air, pulling the ridiculous mask to her face. A feather drooped immediately into her line of sight and she blew at it with irritation. “This is a terrible mask.”

“I designed it myself,” her mother revealed.

Josephine grimaced and climbed into the coach. “Perhaps I should simply remain home this evening.”

“Absolutely not!” her mother declared, settling across from her. “We are going to the ball and acting like the happy, functional family we are.”

“But we aren’t,” Josephine mumbled. “I can barely tolerate Alexander.”

“The feeling is mutual, Sister,” he said with a wink as he settled beside her.

Their mother sighed dramatically. “Everyone told me to have children. They said it would be fun.”

Alexander leaned back. “I would have been perfectly content as an only child,” he said.

“You two used to be thick as thieves,” their mother reminded them. “You would build forts out of bedsheets and sleep in them together for a week straight.”

The memory warmed Josephine’s chest. “I remember. Father would crawl inside with us until his back started to ache on the hard floor.”

“It was a simpler time,” their mother murmured wistfully.

“It was a time when my brother would have believed me,” Josephine added pointedly.

“Oh, bother,” their mother groaned. “Must we rehash this now?”

Alexander brushed an invisible speck from his coat. “I will speak to Mr. Broderick once he returns to Town. Until then, I reserve judgment.”

Josephine opened her mouth to unleash the retort building in her chest, but then the coach jolted to a stop outside a whitewashed townhouse, brightly lit and surrounded by costumed guests waiting to enter.

A footman opened the coach door and placed down the step. Josephine placed her gloved fingers lightly in his palm and descended. She barely had time to straighten her skirts before that infernal pink feather drooped again.

She blew at it. “Stupid mask,” she muttered.

Her mother and Alexander moved ahead towards the entrance, and Josephine followed. They slipped through the entry hall and entered a ballroom already thrumming with people.

“It is a crush,” her mother acknowledged.

Josephine wouldn’t know. She could hardly see anything except pink feathers. Grimacing, she plucked the offending feather out of the mask and let it fall.

“I am going to the card room,” Alexander announced, then vanished into the crowd.