![]() ![]() If it weren't for the single black feather protruding from the white ones in her head-dress, Eliza too might be difficult for her savior to spot amongst the female revelers. Indeed, one gentleman dressed in black from head-to-toe looked much like any other. ![]() She scanned the room for such a figure but it was impossible to determine faces beneath the half-masks, glittering costumes and feathered headdresses. Sir Francis Walsingham, the queen's spymaster, wouldn't undertake the job of squirreling Eliza to safety himself but she had no doubt he would only entrust the task to a man with both ability and cleverness in abundance. Not for the man who'd written the note but his delegate. Now she was carefully watching and waiting. She'd carefully chosen her outfit for the evening according to the instructions written in lemon juice and slipped under her door the previous night, and she'd carefully avoided all consumption of the strong Rhenish wines-her nerves would have been shredded if she hadn't. Her Majesty's Black and White masquerade ball could prove to be equally awful if Eliza wasn’t careful.īut Eliza was always careful. The title of Worst firmly belonged to the mid-summer ball of seven years prior where she'd told the man she loved she wouldn't marry him. The Black and White masquerade ball celebrating the end of Easter at Windsor Castle wasn't the worst ball Lady Eliza Harcourt had been to, despite being forced to attend by one of the most powerful men in England. ![]()
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