(Five/six more chapters left in this book and the Book 3 blurb. Although I graduated, I still have 4 jobs lmao)

"Remember, what I told each of you. Relax and have fun."

Opening the double doors to the opulent ballroom where you all were lined up, the lavish crystal chandeliers casting a warm glow over the entire room. Sister Agnes greeted the guests who decided to attend with a forced sweet smile. You've seen her smile, she cares for her girls. Strict, but you see it when she looks at them. It wasn't only women working there as you learned today, there were bellmen to help with the groceries and the heavy luggage. Everything else seemed strictly women only. You finally understood the young lord's pain after being subjected to a dancing lesson with them earlier in between chores. The chandeliers at the time were down for dusting while you and a few others were given lessons. In between the nonstop giggling, flirting, and chastising, you recognized the dance tutor as yet another person the young lord had on his payroll. Luckily, she didn't recognize you.

Most attendees were bachelor's but that didn't stop couples from trickling in. Some of your colleagues spread out immediately to dance or have a drink of the cheap champagne.

As always Ms. Hopkins delivered an overwhelmingly stunning gown. The shimmering shade of midnight blue complemented your skin tone well, black lacing details on the bodice only helped to accentuate your figure along with black velvet elbow length gloves. A simple black mask covered in satin rest on your face covering everything but your eyes and mouth. Melinda had tied it into a decorative bow behind the soft curls she struggled to put your hair in at Sister Agnes' request.

Melinda nudged you, subtly drawing your attention to a man in a mask at the far corner of the room. The golden lace obscured every possible identifiable feature including his eyes, yet you could tell his gaze was piercing you. It sent a shiver down your spine, and you moved out of his line of sight to down some bubbly champagne.

The scent of Earl Grey tea leaves wafted between the hints of champagne putting you at ease as you felt a welcomed presence behind you.

"How was it?"

You melted at the sound of his deep comforting voice.

"I've managed to humiliate myself and be a pity hire. Been diagnosed, told off, and medicated by a surly nurse, and accused of being deaf and illiterate in the span of a forty-eight hours. It's going well," you said bitterly between gritted teeth to your husband before turning to see him masked as well, his butler tailcoat traded in for aristocratic tails. Black glossy feathers trimmed, studded with black carbonado diamonds glittered in the warm orange light of the chandelier from his mask. There was always a little touch of his true self hiding amongst his clothes.

"My my, it seems I've been too slack with you for you not to be able to handle a few telling offs."

"I'll step on your toes, Michaelis," you mouthed off smartly.

"Would you care for a dance my lady?"

You shot him a look but without waiting for an answer he smoothly took your hand in his setting your glass down and led you into the heart of the grand ballroom. Glancing back, you saw Sister Agnes now near where the both of you stood and put two and two together.

That feeling of having your breath stolen away when you were in his arms was incomparable. It ached your very soul how much you loved this monster in disguise. You were in a trance. Sebastian was actually enjoying his time; his smile was there for you. No- because of you. You touched his cheek; your thumb caressed the line his mask made between cloth and skin as it slid down to twirl a feather.

"You know masks are for unmarried men," you whispered will unable to find your breath.

"And the maid position is for unmarried women."

"What?"

"Such a sweet melody," he purred in your ear, ignoring your indignation. Touching your own mask to remind you you're playing unmarried as well. Now the both of you are being subjected to seeing other people fawn over each other and can't do a single petty thing about it. No holding it over each other's head either, quite the perfect demented couple.

"Tartini's Devils Trill. Funny piece to play with a nun running this," you murmured into his oddly warm vest letting him lead to the complicated tune. "Is the story about Tartini true?"

"Well I didn't visit him," he smiled and you grinned.

"Your attire no doubt has you chilled," his eyes raked over your exposed shoulders resting on your cleavage.

"I'm shorter than you but my eyes aren't that low. You're potentially screwing up an investigation my love," you whispered sweetly in his ear. "My superior doesn't look happy with either of us."

"If only she knew I'm your superior."

Agnes watched you two from the side. She smiled sweetly but you could feel her animosity from the ballroom's marble floor. His grip on your hand tightened and he somehow pulled you closer. Turning you swiftly out of Agnes' eyesight he skillfully grabbed the vial you hid in your bodice without drawing attention. You felt his gloved fingers for less than a split second but it was enough to set you ablaze. He skillfully miscalculated as well, a gloved finger lightly grazing over a nipple for less than a second. The damn tease. Oh how you missed his touch. He raised an eyebrow at you returning his hand to your lower back, vial concealed in his palm.

"I'd appreciate it if it was examined," you answered his gaze. You didn't want to take another dose of that until you were sure it's safe. Sebastian would know who to take it to, or he could check himself, whichever the young lord preferred.

A cold soft closed eye smile greeted you as he whispered, "I would sooner kill any man in here who approaches you than let you go. I sense all the predatory ill-mannered will of every man in this vicinity.

You nearly tripped over his statement, stepping on his shoe, "I- I can handle myself, where did that even come from?"

But the song was over, the last notes of the beautiful haunting melody graced your ears as he bowed to your confused face.

"Call my name the instant you need me Vera."

"You'll be watching anyway, sir," he pressed his lips to your hand before parting as you stared at the back of his head.

"You've got a glow on ya," Melinda beelined her way towards you, whisking you off the dance floor.

"Do I?"

"He was undressing you with his eyes. I've never seen you so chatty," she cupped your face making you flinch. "Yep, warm cheeks."

"He was demanding and intimidating," you sighed.

"Challenge accepted," she grinned heading in the direction of your husband. You shot the back of her head a look and caught the sly smirk on the edges of his mouth out the corner of your eye. Turning swiftly as if hiding your face could mask your possessiveness you almost hit a man standing directly behind you. Trying your best to hide your annoyance you looked up.

"May I have this dance?"

The man with the laced mask found you in the crowd and cut through your growing jealousy, saving you in a way from Sebastian's future teasing. You got another violent shiver.

"I'm afraid I don't dance well Mister...?"

"I prefer the anonymity, and you danced divinely with that gentleman a few minutes ago," his voice was deep and raspy like he had just woken up.

"He was... a divine dancer," you laughed lightly shaking your head as if you couldn't think of a better word. You took him in like a cold drink of water on a bitter winter's morn. Sharp white suit with good filigree like lace bordering every corner. Even up close you couldn't make out a single facial feature above his nose.

"I may be better. You'll never know unless you try," he stretched out his hand. Not one smile from him yet.

Hesitantly, you took it and tried to suppress yet another shiver. There was something incredibly off about this man, and your body wanted nothing more than to run away.

"You have a strand out of place. Sister Agnes disproves of untidiness," he moved his hand from your shoulder, still guiding you gracefully through the waltz with his other hand on the small of your back and tucked it behind your ear. His gloved hand moved along your jawline and gripped your chin to make you face him properly. Commanding.

"You come here often sir?" You cleared your throat trying not to show how exasperated you became.

"No but she is a nun. They're notorious for being strict," he said moving his hand back.

"May I cut in?"

You stopped moving and tried to pull away immediately but his grip on your lower back was strong. Almost inhuman.

"Yes sir you may," you cut your mysterious dancing partner off before he could protest. You couldn't even look at the man, your eyes were glued to your golden masked partner. His gaze was menacing in its own right. Sebastian was right, every ill-will thought was practically gnawing at you from the men who set their eyes on you. Especially this one. He grabbed your hand gently and kissed it, "I seem to have frightened you Ms. Smith. My apologies," he stalked off without letting you respond.

"You change partners quite often, every time I catch a glance of you, you're in someone else's arms dove," he gracefully slid his arm to your lower back, resuming the dance he interrupted. Great, another pet name.

"I didn't notice sir," you tore your eyes away from the dark hair of the gold masked man to the striking blonde in front of you, icy blue eyes met you with such warmth you've never seen before.

"Please, call me Castle. You're not a maid right now, Miss...?"

"Vera Smith, sir," you tossed out your pseudonym. It was so generic if they looked you up they'd find thousands of Vera Smith's. But not so generic your previous partner could guess it. You never told him your name.

'When did I say my name?'

The man tucked a sliver of hair behind your ear and you involuntarily shivered, the last memory of that man exiting your system and someone else taking his place. "My hair was out of place?"

"Yes, does it do that often?"

You nearly sighed out of boredom and annoyance; small talk was not your favorite thing. "It does, I'm learning to get it under control. Might just snip that piece off."

"Vera Smith doesn't suit an extraordinary woman like yourself. It's so plain," he said turning, leading the dance effortlessly. At least he didn't give off any run away immediately signals.

You bit your lip juggling your responses, "How would you know I'm extraordinary?"

'Idiot. I can do better than this,' you thought to yourself. That man from earlier had you more frazzled than you realized.

"Your spirit is fiery. I can tell you're hiding behind this sweet facade," the song ended freeing you from Castle. "I believe you'll know where to find me, if you accept," he leaned down and placed a kiss on your cheekbone. Finally letting go of your hand, you felt a heavy key in your glove.

The number 1313 was embossed on the iron wrought key in your palm. You looked up but he had disappeared back into the crowd, that wasn't the same man who you saw earlier in room 1313. This one was taller, younger, and definitely English.