Once Upon a Magical Night

Five tales with magical invitations that once read transports the reader to the mysterious castle of Lady Tiana Puckton and her dashing husband, Obie, where the grand Midsummer Ball is about to begin. Based on characters from Shakespeare's iconic plays, these unsuspecting guests will soon discover that not all is as it appears—and the fate may not pair them with the person they expect.

From LOVED IN A DREAM by Jane Charles

     Lady Polina St. Martin has nearly everything the daughter of a duke could want or need. Well, except for a say in her future because her father had betrothed her to the son of a friend when they were only children. With her marriage to a stranger looming, all she wants is an adventure before her life is controlled by another.

     Lord Benjamin Cartwright, Viscount Amesbury, believes in love of family and friends, but not in falling in love or being in love. He also has not found the woman that he wants to make his viscountess though he knows that he must settle on someone soon.

     However, when a mysterious invitation is received, Polina and Ben find themselves transported to a magical ball which might very well alter their fates.

Chapter One

Lady Polina St. Martin had never been so aggravated or frustrated in her entire life and she was running out of time. If the contract that betrothed her to Lord Leland Archer, Viscount Dalhousie, was not broken, she would be forced to marry him tomorrow.

She had lost count of how many times she had been to the family solicitor begging him to find reasons for why it could not be honored, but he kept assuring her that nothing could be done, which was why she insisted that he call in a barrister because she fully intended to plead her case in court.

Not her, exactly, because neither the solicitor nor the barrister would even discuss the matter with a female. Instead, she had to alter her appearance and presented herself as her brother, Charles, on behalf of their eldest brother Maximillian, Duke of Grantham, for them to even speak with her.

Max, that was another irritation of hers, but she could not waste time thinking of him now or wondering where the blazes he had gone off to seven months ago following father’s funeral. They had heard nothing from him, nor had a Bow Street Runner been able to locate him, which caused her concern as well as anger that he would abandon his family in such a manner. For months she had been sick with worry, but her pending marriage became her more immediate concern.

“Even if there were good cause for the contract to be dissolved, it would take time before it could be presented in court,” the barrister explained.

Had the solicitor contacted the barrister when she had first requested that he do so, they may have already had a ruling from a judge. 

“If we found cause in the contract, could we insist on a reprieve for my sister until it could be presented to a judge,” Polina argued.

“I have told you, Lord Charles, there is no cause,” the solicitor insisted.

Polina straightened her spine, squared her shoulders and tilted her chin just enough to give the appearance that she was looking down on the man as the privileged son of a duke might do to remind him of his place. “That is the very reason I requested a barrister over a solicitor.”

The man’s face turned crimson as he glanced at the barrister from the corner of his eyes.

“I have reviewed the contract, Lord Charles. There are no defects and it should stand in accordance with common law.”

“There was no meeting of the minds.” Polina began to repeat the arguments she had used against the solicitor several times and reminded herself not to become anxious but be firm and keep her tone low. “Neither Viscount Dalhousie nor my sister were consulted.”

“Both were minors; thus their fathers could enter into the contract on their behalf. Further, your sister would not have been consulted even if she were of marriageable age.”

“Duress! It was a duke making demands. No doubt none of the gentlemen believed they could object without consequence. I am certain that if any of them were alive today, they would testify that they acted under duress.” It irritated Polina to no end that the four gentlemen who had been part of her father’s plan, and present when the matter was decided, had all died before the contract could be broken and not available to testify, or to see the result and realize their mistake—especially the two who had signed the blasted thing.

“They were friends from childhood. All peers. An earl and two viscounts. I hardly believe they would have agreed to the odd circumstances if they objected.”

“Lack of Consideration,” she named another requirement for a binding contract. “The groom will receive a wife, twenty thousand pounds, and a duke as a brother-in-law. What does my sister gain?”

“A husband,” the barrister answered dryly. “She will have a home and the protection of Viscount Dalhousie and pin money. What more could a woman possibly need or want?”

Except perhaps their freedom, allowed a choice in their future, independence…Polina could think of many things a woman would want. Did they think so little of their wives?

Likely!

Polina mentally reviewed the various requirements for a binding contract to argue but could think of only one more, which was weaker than the others. “Illegality!” she announced.

“I assure you the contract is quite legal.”

“A contract whose subject matter was illegal, immoral or against public policy is void entirely. Ex turpi causa non oritur actio—no action can arise from a dishonorable cause.”

“Pray tell, what do you believe is illegal, immoral or against public policy,” the barrister ended on a heavy sigh.

He was losing patience but Polina did not care.

“It is immoral to force my sister to marry a stranger.”

“Then I suggest you introduce Lady Polina to Viscount Dalhousie this evening so that he will not be a stranger when they speak the vows tomorrow.” The barrister collected his documents and put them in a portfolio. “Inform your sister that she has no choice and that she must honor her father’s wishes and dictate. However, Lord Charles, if you ever wish to become a barrister, I would welcome your intellect and passion for a legal argument at the Inns of Court.”

“I would absolutely love to be a barrister,” Polina grumbled once alone in the carriage to return home. Maybe she should continue masquerading as a man and earn the privilege to practice law and then she could influence laws that gave women rights over their own fates. It would not be so difficult to masquerade as a man for the remainder of her life if in the end, women had freedom to make their own choices and not be dictated to by a father, guardian or husband.

Her irritation and anger at having no control over her own destiny stayed with Polina through the evening and by the time she retired, earlier than usual, she took a bottle of wine with her. It was unseemly to do so, but this was likely the last night of her life as she knew it and Polina was going to do what she wished. And, because she had no intention of leaving her chamber until the next morning, Polina changed into her nightrail and pulled on her dressing gown before she settled on the window seat to stare out over the square, sip her wine and prepare the best that she could for her ghastly wedding.

Yes, her intended groom, Dalhousie, had called it a ghastly wedding when he wrote to inform her when and where it was to take place.

To be specific, he had written, I suppose it is time that we get this ghastly wedding of our fathers’ contract over with. The missive had been received a month ago and named the date and time that she was to present herself to St. Marylebone Parish Church. He had not delivered it in person, nor had he even bothered to speak with her. In fact, if Polina were to pass Viscount Dalhousie on the street, she would not recognize him because they had never met, nor had he ever bothered to call on her.

It set the tone for how she expected the marriage to be—her being told and never asked. A piece of property.

Polina tilted her head back and stared up at the sky. For once, there were few clouds and the stars twinkled like diamonds, illuminated by a waning moon—half of it dark, the other half light.

She blew out a sigh and sipped her wine.

She would never have her adventure.

Polina had always assumed that there would be time to embrace a quest or unusual holiday, nor had she anticipated that she would truly marry, but then her father died and just as she was  about to come out of mourning, she had received notification of her pending nuptials without ever being asked.

Well, tonight she was going to brood. Men did so often so why couldn’t she?

She might even drink the entire bottle of wine, getting deep in her cups. Her brothers did so when they were not happy so why shouldn’t she?

At the rap on the door, she almost told them to go away, but instead, she called for them to enter.

“Lady Polina, this was on the tray by the entry. A delivery for you,” Betsy, her maid said as she crossed the room and handed her a thick, cream, lustrous envelope, soft and seeming to shimmer in the lamplight. “Is there anything else, Lady Polina?”

“No, that will be all. Thank you, Betsy.”

The maid bobbed a curtsey and stepped from her chamber.

Polina set her glass of wine aside and turned the envelope over and studied the deep purple seal to see who had sent it, but the waxed imprint of two delicate wings on either side of a crescent moon with a sprig of heather was unfamiliar to her.

“How very odd.” She rubbed the satiny envelope between her fingers then turned it over again but only her name was written in an elegant hand in a deep purple ink to match the seal.

Perhaps Dalhousie was writing to inform her that their marriage would be postponed.

Hopeful, but knowing it unlikely, Polina broke the wax seal and withdrew the card and frowned all over again.

A GHASTLY WEDDING LIKELY MEANS A GHASTLY MARRIAGE.

Had Dalhousie told another how he viewed the wedding and was this a warning not to go through with the marriage? If so, they did not understand that Polina had no choice. That had been taken from her when she was ten.

She also could not argue with their assessment.

The purple faded and Polina nearly dropped the card.

What sleight of hand was used on this card? She had seen magicians and even though she might not understand how a trick was performed, it was nothing more than a hoax to distract the audience.

Except, she was alone and holding the card.

ADVENTURE DOES AWAIT IF YOU SIMPLY DARE.

Nobody knew that she had hoped for an adventure because had she voiced that wish, her mother would have chastised her for being a foolish girl.

 “If only this were real,” she whispered.

The handwriting disappeared only to be replaced with a new message.

IT CAN BE. SIMPLY READ THE NEXT PART ALOUD.

Again, she looked around, but she was still very much alone.

When the next words appeared, Polina did as instructed because she was curious as to what would happen next.

“Your Attendance Is Required at a Ball Hosted by Lord and Lady Puckton.”

Polina frowned. She knew no one by that name.

But before she could give the invitation any further thought, a strange and powerful dizziness came upon her and she wondered if she had drunk too much wine. When the room tilted, Polina placed her foot on the floor because that was what her brother did after he had been too far into his cups and did not want to toss up his accounts, but it did not help.

Pressing a hand against her forehead, Polina closed her eyes and hoped it would stop soon.

“Oh, that will never do.”

Her eyes popped open at the strange voice and Polina sucked in a breath.

She was no longer in her sleeping chamber but a formal garden. Stars twinkled in the sky above and lanterns floated along the paths where every bush and flower was in full bloom. Heather, roses, lilacs, honeysuckle and sweet pea mingled in the air. She recognized those blooms but there were many others that she had never seen before.

Where was she?

She blinked again and came to the only reasonable conclusion—she had fallen asleep and was dreaming. It was a wonderful dream from which she did not want to awaken.

“Please, you must come with me before you are seen.”

Polina slowly turned and came face to face with a lovely woman in a shimmering blue gown, a pearled mask settled on the top of her head.

“What will never do?”

“Your bedclothes. You cannot attend a ball in your bedclothes.”

Polina looked down and gasped as she pulled her dressing gown together to shield her nightrail.

“You read the invitation. It was assumed that you would be properly attired.”

“Yes…but I only just read it,” as in only a moment ago.

“Oh, I suppose we should have considered…Anyway, it does not matter. Come with me and I will see that you are dressed properly.”

The woman in blue turned and started down the path and Polina slowly followed as she continued to look around, taking in the garden and the castle beyond.

Castle!

It loomed before them with rounded towers at the two corners that she could see. She had always wanted to visit a castle and imagined what it might have been like living back in the days of Queen Elizabeth, who took the reins of power from the men who had wanted to control her.

“Ball?”

“Yes, Dear. It is Midsummer and time for the ball and you must be properly attired.”

Could this truly be a dream? She’d never experienced one so vivid or strange before.

Polina pinched herself and experienced the immediate pain.

No, she was wide awake.

How did she get here?

Where was here?

“I am certain I have the perfect costume,” the woman said as she entered the castle through a large, wooden door.

“Costume?”

“Yes. It is a masquerade ball. Is that not delightful?” The woman in shimmering blue twittered and giggled and hurried down a corridor. Since Polina did not know where she was, and feared that she would become lost, she hurried after the strange woman, the stone floor cool against her bare feet, and right into a closet with clothing in every color and design imaginable.

She was drawn to a shimmering gold gown with a ruffled neck, similar to what Queen Elizabeth might have worn at court.

“Not that one. It would not suit you at all, but I understand why you might admire the former queen.”

Could this strange woman read her mind, just as the invitation seemed to know what her thoughts had been?

Did it matter?

She had wanted an adventure and this might be the only opportunity she ever had. Therefore, Polina decided to embrace this very strange night and enjoy herself.

“This is perfect!” The strange woman withdrew a white dress. “Lady Justice! Symbolizing fair, impartial and objective administration of law.”

“How do you know so much about me?”

“Lady Tiana does not send invitations to just anyone. She knows everything about you and the reasons why you must be here tonight.”

“I thought the invitation was from Lord and Lady Puckton?” Who was Lady Tiana?

“Lady Tiana Puckton.” The woman smiled.

The name meant nothing to Polina but she hoped to meet her soon.

***

Benjamin Cartwright, Viscount Amesbury, had never seen a gentleman more depressed than his good friend, Leland Archer, Viscount Dalhousie.

“I tried everything, Ben, but it can no longer be avoided.”

Ben walked to the sideboard to retrieve the decanter of brandy and returned to the sitting area where his friend was slumped in a leather chair and added more to his glass.

“The first seven years were not a concern because she was still in the schoolroom. When she was seventeen, her father asked that the betrothal remain secret so that she could enjoy a Season unencumbered.” Dalhousie took a deep drink and winced. “I had hoped that she would fall in love and free me. I would have let her go without demanding the recompense as allowed in the contract because I would have been free.”

Ben had heard it all before, but he listened again as his friend wallowed in self-pity.

In fact, he felt it his duty to do so because had his own father not switched the boxes some eleven years ago, he would have been required to marry Lady Polina.

His father had confided in him and his older brother, Thomas, how the Duke of Grantham came up with the idea of arranging a marriage for his daughter. His father had only gone along until he realized that Thomas would be forced to be that groom so he switched boxes to prevent that from happening. The two brothers had also promised never to tell a soul. For a time, Ben had carried the guilt that his friend would be forced to marry Lady Polina and then it doubled when he realized that he was the one who had escaped because Thomas’s untimely death came just as Lady Polina left the schoolroom to attend her first Season.

However, it had all worked out for the best, given she had what Dalhousie needed the most—wealth! It was just a shame that his friend held no affection for his future bride.

“The next year, Grantham seemed to want to set a wedding date so I took a holiday.”

“While I was fighting, you decided that a long voyage around the Cape of Good Hope and visit to India would be an enjoyable three years.”

At a young age, Ben realized that by being the spare he would need a profession so he became a soldier. However, he sold his commission when Thomas and his father unexpectedly died of an illness. Since, he had taken over the duties that were never to be his, but also traveled for pleasure, not as far as Dalhousie had sailed, and lived as full a life as possible because he knew that all too soon, he might be required to make the greatest sacrifice any man could make and that was to marry.

“I thought to put the marriage off indefinitely,” Dalhousie insisted. “Lady Polina did not seem interested any more than I was and since I have younger brothers, someone else inheriting the title was never truly a concern. Unfortunately, I no longer have a choice.”

Dalhousie picked up his glass and drank nearly all the brandy.

For a moment Ben considered warning his friend that being hungover on his wedding day might not be the best way to begin a marriage but held his tongue because it was unlikely Dalhousie would even listen to him.

“I returned home to find our estate nearly in ruins. Father gambled everything away before he died and if I do not find some way to pay some of the debts…” He took another drink. “At least the estate is entailed so we have a place to live even if it is crumbling around our ears.”

Dalhousie had always been melodramatic and self-absorbed, but Ben took the point.

“My sisters, they did not even come to London this past Season because we no longer have a house in Mayfair since I had to sell it to pay some of Father’s debts. I am lucky to have a friend who is traveling and allowed me to stay in his set of rooms at The Albany.” Dalhousie blew out a deep sigh. “I suppose it does not matter since I could not provide my sisters with a new wardrobe and whatnots, nor is there any reason for them to be on the marriage mart when their dowry is no more than the salary of a scullery maid.”

He took another deep drink and Ben said nothing but let him moan about his misfortune.

“If I had another choice, I would make it, but the end of life as I know it is over. Her six months of mourning her father came to an end last month so there is no longer any reason to delay and therefore, we shall marry tomorrow.”

“It was good of you to allow her to mourn,” Ben said.

“I am not a monster, and I had hoped for a miracle, but it did not come.” Dalhousie drained the brandy from his glass and held it out to Ben so that it could be refilled.

He did so, but not as much as before.

“How does she feel about marrying tomorrow?”

Dalhousie looked up at him and frowned. “I do not know.”

“You have not spoken with her?” Ben asked.

“I will meet her tomorrow.”

Benjamin pulled back, his eyes wide. “Meet! You have not met?” No doubt the incredulous shock he just experienced also filled his tone.

Dalhousie simply shrugged. “I saw no reason to do so. It is not as if I have a choice who I wed so why be bothered with a courtship and all that nonsense.”

Ben could not understand how Dalhousie could be so cavalier about his marriage and future wife. How had he not noticed just how uncaring he was about anyone who was not him before? Had he always been so selfish?

“Does Lady Polina know that she is to marry you tomorrow? And, how did you know she did not seem any more interested in marriage than you are?”

“If she was anxious to be my bride, would she not have sent a brother around?” he countered.

Ben supposed he was correct.

“As for tomorrow, I sent a note about a month ago. Lady Polina acknowledged it, agreed to meet me at St. Marylebone Parish Church at ten in the morning and we will finally get this ghastly wedding out of the way.” He took a deep drink and drained the brandy from his glass a second time. “You have met her, have you not?”

“Only once and it was more that we were in the same place at the same time, not an introduction.”

“How old was she?”

“Eleven, I assume. It was a year after the contracts had been signed.”

“What was she like?” Dalhousie asked anxiously.

“She was a child! How would I know?” He had been fourteen and barely paid any attention. Had her father not said, my daughter, Polina, as they passed, he might not have even noticed.

“What did she look like?”

“Messy dark hair and she was being chastised by a servant for having a muddy dress. That was the extent of it.”

“You are of no assistance,” Dalhousie grumbled.

Then maybe he should have bothered to meet his intended before now. “I will be by your side tomorrow,” Ben reminded him instead, thankful that he was the witness and not the groom.

After he saw Dalhousie safely settled into his carriage so that he could be taken home where servants would help him up the stairs and to his own bed, Benjamin finished drinking the brandy that remained in his glass, dismissed the servants for the night, then retreated to the library and settled into the comfort of the leather chair behind his large desk.  

When he finally succumbed to marriage, Ben knew that he would at least need to have an affection and care for his wife. Of course, he would also need to desire her in his bed since an heir and a spare were expected of him. Or, maybe one of his brothers would succumb to the disease of love , marry and produce a son from the union, freeing Ben.

He believed in love of a friend, sibling, parent and even a child, but he did not believe in being in love or that there was one person for whom someone was destined. It was simply a myth perpetrated by poets to make marriage palatable.

How could anyone ever decide if they had even met that person when there were so many women already on this earth to enjoy? One simply did not settle on a scone for life when there was a sideboard filled with delicacies waiting to be sampled. Especially when they were eager to sample him as well.

Ben blew out a sigh and set his glass aside and started thumbing through the post that had been placed in the center of his desk. They were mostly invitations to balls given the quality of the parchment. As it was nearing the end of the Season and he would never court anyone, he tossed them in the refuse, then returned his attention to the more important correspondence, only to come across an invitation of cream and gold, which he tossed to join the others.

Once he had read the correspondence from his estate manager and then solicitor, he set them both aside to be responded to on the morrow and reached for the next missive and stopped.

Had he received more than one invitation to the same ball, assuming that is what the cream and gold vellum contained?

Ben picked it up and turned it over to note the seal pressed into the purple wax, but he did not recognize the crescent with wings.

It did not matter because he was done with balls for the Season and tossed it in with the others.

Three more letters were read and when those were set aside, he reached for what should have been the last missive in the stack and stopped.

It was the same invitation, with his name elegantly scripted in purple.

This was very strange. Did the host want him there so badly that they would send three invitations?

He picked it up and turned to toss it in with the others when he noted the invitation he had tossed earlier was not there since it should be on top of the others. Ben reached in and withdrew the invitations previously thrown away and could not find the other two identical invitations.

He had thrown them away, of that he was certain, yet it kept returning to the bottom of his stack of correspondence.

Maybe he had drunk too much brandy.

This time when he tossed the invitations, he held on to the cream and gold one.

Was it a widow seeking an assignation? He would enjoy that far more than a ball.

Except, this envelope was rather formal for something so tawdry.

“Ah, I know,” Ben said as he broke the wax seal, expecting it to be an invitation to the Cyprian Ball scheduled to take place in a fortnight.

Perhaps he would not head back to the country right away. Maybe he would stay and secure a mistress to take with him because it had been far too long since he bedded a woman.

With a grin he withdrew the card anticipating an invitation to a very wicked night, only to be confused once again.

A LADY DOES AWAIT.

“I would rather it was a courtesan.”

Those words faded and another message appeared.

THE BEST REWARDS ARE MISSED WHEN ONE IS SHORTSIGHTED.

The author was correct but the type of entertainment he had been hoping for could not be enjoyed with a lady. Well, unless she was a widow.

Ben paused and glanced around the library. Was he really reading a card in which words randomly appeared, as if being written before him by an invisible hand and quill?

He glanced over at his empty glass. He had not drunk above two glasses of brandy and was only relaxed—not inebriated. 

TO DISCOVER DELIGHTS BEYOND YOUR IMAGINATION YOU MUST ACCEPT YOUR FATE.

Fate? Now the card was being melodramatic. He was in charge of his own destiny and nothing, nor anyone, was going to change that.

IF YOU DARE, READ ALOUD WHAT NEXT APPEARS.

All words vanished and an invitation appeared.

“Your Attendance Is Required at the Midsummer’s Ball. Be Prepared for a Magical Night Certain to Satisfy Even the Wickedest of Hearts.”

Ben grinned. It was the Cyprian Ball because who else would hold a wicked ball? Though he could not imagine how any of them could have pulled off such a conjuring trick with this invitation.

The next instant wind whipped through the library, strong enough to blow out the candles and lamps. Ben grasped the desk when everything seemed to tilt. When dizziness assaulted him, he had no choice but to close his eyes and hope that he did not become ill.

“Ah, the charmer.” A woman giggled.

He slowly opened his eyes, expecting to find an enticing courtesan standing in his library, one that he was convinced was a witch, except he found a delightful woman—a stranger with flowers in her hair and wearing a brilliant red gown.

He also was not in his library any longer but on the drive before a grand castle.

“How did I get here?”

“The invitation brought you.” She clapped her hands in delight.

“The invitation?” What had been in his brandy?

“Yes. You read it aloud and now you are here. Now, come along. You must prepare.” She rushed forward and opened the grand doors that appeared too heavy for a mere woman, but she used no effort whatsoever and led him into an entry that gleamed with marble. In the distance, musicians played and the room seemed to be lit from the stars above because when he looked up, the entry was open to the sky.

“Prepare for what?”

“The ball,” she answered without glancing back and likely assumed he followed, which he did.

What was wrong with how he was dressed? He had been in formal attire earlier and had not changed. “The Cyprian Ball?” he called as he hurried after the woman who clearly did not like to dawdle but arrive at her destination with expediency.

“Goodness, no. There may be some wickedness within the corridors of the castle, but your host and hostess are Lord and Lady Puckton.”

“Who are they?”

“You shall meet them soon enough.”

The lady in red led him through stone corridors. At times they were closer to the music, then further away, and he was quite certain that he would never find his way back to the entry and wished that he would have made note of the turns and some marking on the wall or floor to guide his return path.

“Here we are.” She stopped before another oaken door, then pushed it open. “Come along.”

Ben entered and stopped in the center of the room. Surrounding him were racks filled with clothing, hats, shoes and on a far wall were all types of items. He was well acquainted with the backstage of a theatre because many of his former lovers had been actresses and this was very similar to the room where the costume mistress plied her trade.

“Are we at the theatre?”

“We are at the home of Lord and Lady Puckton,” she answered slowly. “I assumed you would be brighter,” she said almost to herself and then disappeared behind clothing.

“I am. Intelligent, as a matter of fact, but you must admit that the circumstances of how I arrived in this strange place and having never met, let alone heard of a Lord and Lady Puckton, would raise several questions.”

“Yes, I suppose,” she answered, though her voice was muffled, likely because several layers of material separated them.

“What are you doing?” he finally asked.

“Ah, here it is.” She appeared a moment later. “This shall be your costume tonight and these are your accessories.”

Ben studied the clothing and items and took a step back. “Is there nothing else?”

“This costume suits you,” she responded.

“It most certainly does not!”

“You may not believe in love, but is that a reason to deny others?”

“Can I not be a knight or a pirate?”

She studied him. “One would think that by your objection that you are afraid of falling in love.”

Was he here so others could jest at his beliefs? If so, he would not have it.

“A masquerade is nothing but dressing as something that many think to be historic, or in your case, fictional, and why this was chosen specifically for you.”

She shoved the garments at him. “Dress quickly and then make your way to the ballroom. You do not want to miss the toast.”

“Where is it?” he called after the woman who had already left the room.

“Follow the music.”

Ben looked down at the costume again. Certainly, he did not need to wear every part of it.

The woman in red suddenly appeared again. “If you leave one item behind, a price shall be demanded. Not in coin but something you will not be happy to pay,” she warned before she disappeared again.

Ben swallowed. Given how he had arrived here in the most unusual of circumstances, he would do exactly as she instructed.

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