The Moon Master's Ball Read Online Free

arrivals. “Oh, that’s no good.” Frowning,
she leaned on her broom, trying to think of another way to phrase
the sentence. “Lord Hollingberry—”
    “Tilly!” Ellen rushed into the foyer.
“Tilly, there’s only one room left for us to clean! And we figured
you were the best one to tidy up the parlor.” She grabbed the broom
from Tilly. “I’ll finish this.”
    Tilly chuckled at her friend. “ None of you wanted to brave the dangerous Mrs. Carlisle and her
daughter?” She shook her head. “I can’t believe they’re still in
there. They’ve been sitting in that room all day!” Tilly looked out
the windows framing the front door and saw that the sun was
setting. “Fine. I’ll finish up. You all owe me.”
    “Yes, we do!” Ellen replied happily as Tilly
headed off to the parlor.
    Approaching the parlor door, Tilly slowed
then stopped, uncertain. Should she knock? Common courtesy dictated
that she should, so only after thumping her knuckles against the
thick wooden door and hearing a soft “Enter” did she walk into the
room.
    The parlor’s walls were painted a soft blue
that looked like the sky was just preparing to display its stars. A
long window in the center of the room offered a perfect view of
Bromley Meadow. Two settees graced the room, and three chairs, the
cushions of which had been stitched delicately by Genevieve, the
village’s most renowned seamstress.
    The room’s prettiness was darkened, however,
by the two silhouettes lounging in those lovely settees and
chairs.
    “Yes?” Mrs. Carlisle turned her head
slightly when Tilly entered; then she smiled. “Ah, Tilly the Tardy!
Come to clean the parlor, have you?” She chortled.
    Tilly gritted her teeth. “Yes ma’am. It
won’t take long. I’ve only got to dust.” She entered the room and
began to do just that, hoping some dirt fluffed into Mrs.
Carlisle’s lungs and made her miserable.
    “You missed a spot.”
    It was Drosselyn who spoke this time. Tilly
didn’t acknowledge that she had said anything.
    “I said you’ve missed a spot. Right
there.”
    Tilly turned to see Drosselyn pointing
languidly from her seat, her luxuriant hair framing her face like
the dark petals of a flower.
    Tilly brushed over that spot vigorously.
    “You seem to be a smart girl, Tilly,” Mrs.
Carlisle stated.
    “Thank you, ma’am.” Tilly continued to dust,
eager to leave the room and go to Apple Tree Inn with the rest of
the girls.
    “There has been much talk of something
exciting happening soon. If you could enlighten us to what this
special occasion is, we would be most eager to hear.”
    Tilly clenched her hands and moved to the
other side of the room, turning her back to Mrs. Carlisle. “I can’t
say that I could, ma’am.” She didn’t want to talk about it. Not to
them.
    “How disappointing! It seems as though
everyone here knows what’s going to happen except us. Isn’t that
right, daughter of mine?”
    “Yes, Mother.” Drosselyn responded in
monotone as though she spoke the words every minute of every
day.
    “I’m sure you could tell us something ,” Mrs. Carlisle continued, fixing her small,
staring eyes upon Tilly.
    “Yes ma’am. I could.” Tilly turned around to
face the two reclining ladies. “But it’s not a pretty story and not
something I wish to tell. All I can say is that you’ll know what
this ‘special occasion’ is when you see it. Look for it in Bromley
Meadow.”
    Mrs. Carlisle’s face didn’t change. She did,
however, click her teeth together in a thoughtful manner. The sound
repulsed Tilly.
    “Thank you,” Mrs. Carlisle said, her head
twitching oddly.
    Tilly finished dusting the last table and
left the room in a whirl, her face flushed with anger. She marched
down the back stairs to her room, grabbed her coat and scarf, and
rushed out of the house as quickly as possible.
    Those women! Disgusting, detestable, prying,
rude, snobbish—
    “I was wondering when you’d show up.”
    For the second night