Byrne stood in the middle of the cacophony with Miss Marbury as everyone whispered closely, rushing to know their partner better in the moments before the fun was to commence. Mrs. Baddeley said she would give them all ten more minutes to use wisely, since they now knew the object of the game.

"Have you sisters?" Mr. Walford asked.

"What sort of bugs do you like... best?" Miss Poole tried.

"Fine, then. Tell me about fake ruins," Miss Hartley sighed.

Lady Adele and Tony seemed to be endeavoring to communicate with gestures, which she seemed to find more amusing than Tony did.

Perhaps everyone else was more invested in the prize than Byrne was. Despite him funding this party, he had no designs how it ended, apart from one thing...

He tapped Miss Marbury, finally just asking when she faced him, "Did Miss Crewe accept Tony's proposal or not?"

"Him?" Miss Marbury frowned. Her gaze slid to Tony, then, narrowing. "What self-respecting girl would accept a proposal from a man such as—"

"Miss Marbury," he squeezed his eyes shut, "please just tell me."

When he opened them again, she was assessing him with a sly sort of smile. "She did not. Is that what you wanted to know?"

"Yes. Yes, it is," he said softly, sliding his own gaze to Miss Crewe. He didn't even care that she was laughing with his blasted, unwanted brother. All was right with the world.

"She refused him," Miss Marbury went on, adding on a mutter, "and with much more kindness than he deserved, to my mind."

Now that he knew Miss Crewe was truly free, Byrne felt a sudden urge to make more things right. "I have no idea what your quarrel with Tony is, nor his with you—"

"Sir Anthony should have no quarrel with me," she scoffed. "I'm not the one who—"

"But whatever it is," he cut in, "anyone who is favored so highly by Mrs. Baddeley cannot be all bad."

Miss Marbury's gaze softened as it landed on their hostess. "My cousin is all that is sweet and good. She rarely sees ill in anyone. And it's very kind of you to speak so highly of your friend. And I'm sure he treats you well, and Mrs. Baddeley, but he has been very ill-mannered to me."

Byrne had to laugh. "He says the same of you."

"Me?" She looked aghast. "I am never ill-mannered!"

"He thinks you are kind to all but him for no good reason."

She stiffened and nodded. "Perhaps he is correct on that, but I happen to have a very good reason." She turned to him with a sudden smile. "I'd rather we put our mind to this game lest Lord Swinton win. Or do you truly want this party to end with a lecture on... spiders?"

She did have a point.

***************************

Emilia really needed to be more diligent. After her successful refusal of Sir Anthony, or Tony as he wished to be called, she should not consider her work done. Dissuading Mr. Byrne might be the hardest chore of all.

She'd been studiously avoiding looking at him, apart from one little misstep, but she could swore she still felt his gaze on her. Even in the company of Mr. Browning, a merry young lad with many interesting things to say, she found herself distracted by just the idea that Mr. Byrne might be looking her way.

"...and, if all goes well," Mr. Browning was saying, "I'd like to continue my studies at Edinburgh, but my father is still set against it. I'm hoping Doctor Allendale can convince him. After that, the Royal College, but that is a ways off."

"I hope that for you as well." She forced her attention back to her partner. If she was... or they were to win this, she needed to pay him more mind.

"And what of your parents? Mrs. Baddeley said you paint. Do they support you in it?"

"Ah, well..." She felt strange trying to speak for Miss Prudence. It just added more layers to a lie that was already complicated enough. "The less said about my parents, the better."

"You could say a bit more," Mr. Browning shook his head, smiling slightly, "or I've no shot at winning this. I feel as if I've talked your ear off and you've remained very mysterious."

"Oh, I don't mean to—"

"Nay, it does not bother me," he said quickly. "My family rarely lets me talk of my... endeavors. But despite Mrs. Baddeley's praise, I am not a doctor yet and have no grand speeches at the ready to give. I should not mind if you win, in the end. Perhaps you will paint before us all?"

Perhaps I will faint before you all. "Goodness, I... I could not even if I wished to. I do not have the proper supplies."

"The proper supplies could easily be had. We are near Cambridge, after all. The shops here have everything any student could—"

"Oh, but you see... I simply could not paint with an audience," she tried. Could not paint if I tried, she added to herself. Even when helping paint the wainscoting at Douglass Hall, Ian found her something else to within minutes. "Besides, wouldn't watching someone paint be quite tedious? I'd hope this party could end more merrily than that."

Her gaze slid to Mr. Byrne again.

He'd likely enjoy the rest of it much more if she could put him off her and point him to any of the other young ladies. He looked rather merrier than before with Miss Marbury — or Cecilia, she corrected herself. If she could think of Sir Anthony as Tony, she could certainly start thinking of the girls by their given names even if it felt strange to say them. Anyhow, Mr. Byrne was almost smiling. Maybe he and Cecilia would find many common interests and become even merrier. Wouldn't that be nice for them.

Yes, it certainly would. 

And she would work out how to feel about it later.

Mr. Byrne's head turned and he caught her eyes before she could steal them away. He did smile then, fully. But not in a blithe, pleasant manner. There was something in it that felt like a threat, that or a promise, that had the hairs on the back of her neck standing on end. She let out a shaky breath as she turned away, a strange flutter in her stomach.

She had some idea what that was. She'd felt it when they kissed and he was absolutely shameless to give her such a feeling here in front of everyone. Or was she the shameless one for feeling such things?

No, this was definitely his fault, she decided.

"Miss Crewe, are you unwell?" Mr. Browning inquired. "You look quite... flushed." He stared at her as if tempted to examine her head. Maybe he should. Someone ought to.

"I am quite well. It's just the s..." She trailed off as she glanced up, annoyed that the sun had dipped behind the clouds. 

"Do you find it hot? Have you had enough water?" He rattled off quickly. "Would you be more comfortable inside? I can fetch a cool cloth if—"

"Please don't trouble yourself. I think it's the excitement of... of the game." She pasted on a smile and clapped her hands. "I simply cannot wait to begin!"

"That is the sort of thing I like to hear, Miss Crewe," Mrs. Baddeley said from her chaise, fanning herself. "Are we all ready?"

There was a bit more chatter as everyone seemed to be working to gain more information in the last moments. The last thing Emilia heard was "Raspberry Fool," from Lord Swinton before all grew silent.

"Now, normally, between pairs," Mrs. Baddeley began, "one would ask the other the questions, but that would make it far too easy, wouldn't it?"

"I wouldn't mind if it was easier," Tony muttered. "I doubt I've got a prayer of winning."

Emilia glanced at Adele, who hid a smile. She rather suspected the girl was having a grand time frustrating him with her supposed lack of English.

"We shall have each of you ask a question," Mrs. Baddeley went on. "And all who answer correctly for their partners shall gain two buttons. Oh! I nearly forgot! You shall all start with one..." Here, she plucked up and rattled a little tin, opening it to pass out a button to each as she spoke. "If you cannot or will not answer, you shall take a command from the one who asked, gaining one button. But if you refuse to perform the command, you surrender a button. Whoever has no buttons is out. Whoever has the most buttons at the end shall win!"

There were some questions and some protests... but those were just from Mary, who seemed to wonder how everyone would know people weren't lying to win or asking questions they knew their partner could answer.

"Now, now. I'm sure we are all honest people here," Mrs. Baddeley said.

"But does that truly apply to all of us?" Mary asked, turning to Emilia with a sickly sweet smile.

Blast her. She would either win or make this unbearable in any way she could. Emilia should have known she would likely pay for what she'd done earlier. She'd restrained herself quite well at breakfast, very valiantly holding in her laughs when the other girls gave Mary the set-downs she so richly deserved.

And while Mary was probably quite relieved someone took Mr. Browning off her hands, Emilia likely could have done it without implying Mary was simple, even if Mary said it first. But it was hard to stop herself from biting Mary back a little for Mr. Browning's sake. He seemed a kind young man, if a bit shy, with a tendency to blush when given a compliment and also when given an insult, as Mary had so clearly done.

"Oh, I am expecting that you all will ask a question you or your partner knows, but everyone else can do the same." Mrs. Baddeley shrugged. "In the end, you all have the same chance to win, provided you listened well."

Emilia couldn't imagine Mary doing such a thing. She likely spent her time with Mr. Walford talking about herself and all her accomplishments. Then again, maybe she interrogated him about his own life simply to win. Whatever Mary's plan, Emilia would have to be wary with such a player in the game.

"And don't we all win?" Mrs. Baddeley asked, smiling widely. "For, in the end, we shall all know each other so much better!"

Vanessa started by asking everyone if they knew their partner's favorite dessert. She did, of course, sharing that Lord Swinton enjoyed Raspberry Fool. While Lord Swinton knew that she liked Tipsy Pudding, gaining the first buttons.

Emilia and Mr. Browning had talked a bit about their food at luncheon, but hadn't broached the topic of dessert, drat it. Emilia had to earn her button by repeating a nursery rhyme with a mouthful of candied almonds, while Vanessa bade Mr. Browning to recite a poem in a voice as high as a mouse's squeak, to giddy laughter from all.

Emilia was enjoying it all much more than she imagined she would. She'd had very few chances to play such games. Her fellow servants often played at cards or other methods of gambling after most of the work was done. They read aloud or gossiped and had their own sort of fun, but they were usually too weary to play anything like Charades or chase each other about, and not one of them would waste a sweet treat on Bullet Pudding or burn away perfectly good brandy on Snapdragon.

Tony and Adele earned their buttons by answering correctly, as it seemed the only thing they communicated about successfully was food. When it came to Mary, she identified Mr. Walford's favored treat as Vanilla Custard and seemed to be trying to glare the man into agreeing. Mr. Walford didn't take the hint, forcing Mary to suffer the indignity of hopping about the patio on one foot, something she thought was unbearably silly.

"Aren't games supposed to be just a little bit silly?" Cecilia mused, after finishing a jig while wearing a basket as a bonnet. She had not been able to guess Mr. Byrne's favorite dessert, but he was successful in guessing hers were macarons, noting he'd spied her sneaking one before the first round began.

The second question was Lord Swinton's, asking where everyone's partners had traveled from. No one had any difficulty answering, as that seemed to be one thing all parties had asked each other. Mary did seem to hesitate before declaring Mr. Walford hailed from Cheapside, hissing the word as if it were forbidden. Emilia didn't see why it was so hard for her to utter. Didn't Mary have an uncle there? Last Emilia knew, he often lent money to her father, who tended to spend more than he earned.

As for Mary, she asked everyone what hobbies their partner enjoyed most. While her answer — "building things" — was vague, it was enough to gain her buttons. But she was not satisfied with Mr. Walford claiming hers was playing the harp. She did not feel it encompassed her accomplishments properly and nearly launched into a speech touting her many talents before Adele saved them all...

"Mon partenaire n'aime que flirter et manger, d'après ce que je vois," she said before gesturing to Vanessa.

Vanessa laughed slightly before translating. "Her partner only enjoys flirting and food, from what she sees."

Tony looked like he might correct her before he nodded. "No. She's quite right. Never been much of a hobby man. That's as good as any answer. As for Lady Adele, I think her hobby involves food as well... torts? Isn't that a sort of cake? At least she said, "Vous avez tort" a lot. Not sure what flavor that is."

Vanessa let out a slight giggle before saying, "I believe she may have been correcting your attempts at speaking French, Sir Anthony. That means 'you are wrong.'"

"Ah, well." Tony shrugged and smiled. "I am often wrong."

"That could be another of your hobbies," Emilia heard Cecilia say under her breath.

Tony turned her way, his smile tightening. "Something to say, Miss Marbury?"

Cecilia lifted her chin. "Just trying to imagine what Mr. Byrne's hobby might be. And shouldn't you be given a command? I can suggest a few things—"

"I think I'll just surrender a button," Tony said, giving Cecilia a baleful glance as he dropped one back into Mrs. Baddeley's tin.

"Just as well," Mary said with a wave of her hand. "I'd also much rather know what Mr. Byrne's hobby is." Mary said, toying with the lace at her neckline. "I'm certain it is very interesting." Unfortunately for her, Mr. Byrne wasn't looking her way as Tony laughed loudly then.

"I assure you, it is not," Tony teased. "Does work even count as a hobby?"

"If it did," Mr. Byrne said back with a roll of his eyes, "it's not one you've picked up."

"Very true," Tony conceded.

"My answer is that Mr. Byrne has no hobby," Cecilia said.

Mr. Byrne sighed. "That's actually true."

"Perhaps, when you marry," Mary put in, "your wife shall lessen your burdens, Mr. Byrne, allowing you time to indulge yourself in any pastime you wish."

"I'm not certain about that," he said, not looking her way. "The right wife should be quite distracting." Then he had the nerve to look directly at Emilia. What is God's name was he... "Miss Crewe has yet to give an answer," he said slyly. To the others, he might be talking of the game, but Emilia knew better.

"Neither did you, Mr. Byrne," Mrs. Baddeley put in as she gave Cecilia her buttons. "Though I believe we all know what our dear Miss Marbury's favorite pastime is."

"Miss Marbury is a very skilled musician," Mr. Byrne said, finally releasing Emilia from his gaze.

"It's not her only pastime," Mary started to say, with a cat-like smile. "If Sir Anthony's hobby is food, then surely Cecilia is more accomplished than he or anyone at—"

"Attending the opera," Tony broke in. "You forgot that part, Byrne. All Miss Marbury talks about."

Cecilia glanced his way, surprised. Emilia was glad he had thwarted Mary in insulting her before all.

"I have my answer," Emilia said, not giving Mary another chance. Despite her Byrne-induced distraction, she had listened well to Mr. Browning. "My partner has a fascination with medicinal plants. We had a very nice exchange exchange about the benefits of chamomile, for both the nerves and the skin."

"That we did," Mr. Browning agreed. "I'd wager there are many things used for both beauty and medicine. Isn't that fascinating? As for Miss Crewe, she enjoys painting."

Mary turned sharply to her. "Is that true, though? Keep in mind, we are supposed to be honest in this game."

"It is very true," Emilia said carefully. "Miss Crewe loves nothing more than painting. Lord Swinton, you have yet to share."

"Oh, indeed. Yes." Lord Swinton seemed to think Vanessa's hobby was reading, but she said it was actually the composing of limericks. Mary thought Vanessa's answer — that Lord Swinton's was the discovery and cataloguing of insects — was too easy.

"Everyone knows that," she'd pouted. "The man barely speaks of anything else."

"Now, now, Miss Hartley," Mrs. Baddeley tutted. "You did choose the question, after all."

Mary narrowed her eyes at Vanessa, but relented. Emilia rather suspected she wanted to give the girl some sort of humiliating command, after this morning, since she'd not been able to do so with Emilia nor Cecilia.

Mr. Walford's question — "Which building in London does everyone's partner find most fascinating?" — annoyed Mary as it was not a topic they'd discussed.

"Oh, but it is. I'm quite sure I talked of mine," he said, smiling and turning to the others. "And it is something I'd dearly like to know for all. Is that not the spirit of the game?"

"Not if one wants to win," Mary hissed. "You talked about so many, I'm sure I don't know which."

Good. Emilia had no idea what Mary would do if she won, but decided then and there that she'd much rather Lord Swinton and Mr. Walford take turns regaling them with tales of every insect and building that existed.

"I shall answer," Emilia announced. "I'm certain my partner's favorite building would be The Royal College of Physicians."

"You are quite right, Miss Crewe," Mr. Browning said. "Perhaps not for what is without, but what is contained within."

"On Warwick Street? Why that was designed by Robert Hooke," Mr. Walford said excitedly. "You know, he rebuilt so much of London after The Great Fire. And his other pursuits were no less impressive."

"Sadly, I have no ready answer for Miss Crewe," Mr. Browning answered before he could elaborate. "Er... Do you admire St. Paul's?"

Emilia shook her head. She would love to say her favorite place was something so grand, but the only places in London she cared for were the dress shops. Madame Lanchester's, with its Parisian designs was her personal choice, though most of The Ton favored Mrs. Gill's. "I'm afraid I have no answer that would satisfy Mr. Walford."

No one else had good answers, either. People tossed around famous places like Somerset House and The Theatre Royal, but Emilia was the only one who successfully won two buttons in that round. Though she supposed they all succeeded in ending the round before Mr. Walford could give a dissertation on every building named. 

Lady Adele inquired on favorite colors, which about half guessed correctly, including Emilia, who noted Mr. Browning wore quite a lot of light blue — though she personally thought darker blues might make him look less boyish, but the lad was still young.

Tony's question was, "Oh, I don't know. Least favorite food?" No one answered correctly apart from Cecilia. Emilia suspected that was because Mr. Byrne tended to make his disdain for brussels sprouts known to all. And there was quite a lively debate on whether liver and kippers were the best or worst foods known to man.

Adele's commands, for all who failed to answer, were to act like various animals. Lord Swinton's best impersonation of a squirrel was certainly the funniest. The commands were the most fun for all. There were several attempts to juggle oranges that, while not successful, were highly amusing. Cecilia's question, on their partners' middle names, even she did not know. No one did. It felt as if, as the game wore on, people cared much less about winning and much more about making everyone act as foolishly as possible. 

Trays of biscuits were balanced on heads, spoons hung from noses. Tony's impression of his aunt, fluttering fan and all, made even Mary laugh for a moment.

The only person who had yet to be take a command was Mr. Byrne, having surrendered his button rather than appear foolish. And, as much as Emilia tried not to look his way, he didn't seem quite as amused as everyone else. Even his question was rather serious.

"What does your partner want most in life?" he asked.

Cecilia tilted her head. "We did not discuss that, but that is a lovely question. I'm sure everyone has hopes and aspirations."

"Indeed," Mr. Byrne said, his eyes resting on Emilia. "How else could one help make them come true?" He turned to Cecilia with a bland smile. "I imagine you dream of performing for the royal family."

"Goodness, no!" Cecilia laughed. "I'm certain I'd be so nervous, my fingers would freeze!"

"You could sing, then," Tony said. "You do that better than anyone I've ever heard."

Cecilia dropped her smile, staring at the stones. "Perhaps you have not heard enough singers. If you attended the opera—"

"I've heard enough to know what kind of singing I prefer," Tony protested. "I find those opera ladies fussy and overdone."

Cecilia scoffed, "They are highly trained and accomplished—"

"Are you trying to argue me out of giving you a compliment? Very well. I take it back. I'd rather hear the screeching of bats!"

"Good, then!" Cecilia crossed her arms.

Mary looked annoyed to be left out of the conversation. "I personally find the harp to be the most beautiful sound and would not hesitate to perform for anyone, even the Prince Regent himself." Here, she turned toward Mr. Byrne. "But my dreams are much simpler than that. I only want—"

"Ah-ah, Miss Hartley," Mrs. Baddeley cut in. "That is for your partner to guess. Besides, Miss Marbury has not yet told us what Mr. Byrne wants most. And Mr. Byrne did not answer correctly. Though I suppose he cannot give himself a command." She laughed.

"I'll just forfeit a button," he said quickly, then gestured to Cecilia.

"Still taking no commands," Emilia thought... then froze as she realized she'd actually said that.

"I promise you quite faithfully that I'll do what you command, Miss Crewe, when the time comes." He smiled.

The man was shameless!

"Er... I think Mr. Byrne would like a life filled with challenge and purpose," Cecilia said, looking between the pair of them.

"That is rather vague," Mary snorted.

"But it's correct," Mr. Byrne said. "And what of you, Miss Crewe?" he asked. "What do you want most?"

She knew what he was after. He'd have her say some grand thing so he could later promise he could give it to her when he next proposed. She was beginning to think proposing was his newfound hobby. But that was not the game. "My partner," Emilia began pointedly, "wishes to finish his studies at Cambridge, attend the University of Edinburgh, then become licensed by The Royal College of Physicians," she finished.

"That is perfectly correct," Mr. Browning said, smiling widely. "You listen so well, you should get three buttons, Miss Crewe!"

"I thought no question got more than two. That would be grossly unfair," Mary said loudly. "If she should win by—"

"Do not fret, Miss Hartley," Mrs. Baddeley cut in, a stiff smile on her face. Emilia suspected she was getting as weary of Mary's complaints as everyone else. "I shall only award her two, though I dare say," she said, dropping them into Emilia's hand, "she might win no matter what. You have quite the collection of buttons, Miss Crewe!"

"I'm not certain how she's managing it," Mary sneered. "Is there some sort of code or signal they are doing?"

"I simply listened to a very intelligent young man speak," Emilia said sharply, quite sick of her behavior. "That is the object of the game — listening. Perhaps it's difficult for those who care for no one but themselves."

Mary had nothing to say to that.

No one did.

The patio was silent but for the chirping of birds.

"B-because aren't we all like that?" Emilia said awkwardly. "T-tis the nature of... of everyone to talk instead of listen. Th-this is a very clever game, Mrs. Baddeley. Brings out the best... and all that."

Mary suddenly smiled. "You've certainly done your best, Miss Crewe. In fact, I concede." She opened her hand, letting her buttons clatter to the stones. She moved to Emilia. Emilia flinched slightly, but Mary only took her hand. "Just look at all these buttons!" She closed Emilia's hand, squeezing it tightly as she turned to the rest. "I'm certain we have a winner!"

There was some awkward applause and Emilia attempted to smile, leaning toward Mary. "What are you playing at?" she asked as softly as she could.

Mary smiled and tilted her head. "I happen to know just how my dear friend, Miss Prudence Hortensia Crewe, would like this party to end..."

Emilia squeezed her eyes shut. She was going to do it, wasn't she? She was going to expose her, right here and now.

"A masquerade!"

************************

God, save me from group scenes! This one was difficult. So many people!!!

For those curious, the game Questions and Commands is really just Regency Truth or Dare. I put my own little spin on it (or Mrs. B did). They also had a version of Spin The Bottle called Kiss in the Ring, but I bet that last was pretty scandalous. Mrs. Baddeley would never allow it! She still thinks the waltz is too naughty. LOL

I'll be back next weekend or sooner with more. And pretty please toss me a like, comment, or your emoji of choice if you're enjoying. It really keeps me going!