23 December 1894 — Dempsey Estate

The hour was imminent. The curtains had been hung with precision and Sophie had just put the final touches on Lowri’s evening dress. She’d spared no expense with the Christmas party, even going as far as having the staff dress accordingly, though their outfits still identified them as such. In addition to her standard lady’s maid black with a white apron and cap, Sophie’s had been modified to include dark velvet seventeenth century stays decorated with gold trim, and even a small ruffle at the back of her dress invoking a medici collar. Some of the male servants even wore floppy ruffs in place of their collars. From her gathering in the servant’s hall, everyone seemed to be having good fun with it all. Those who worked for the Dempseys weren’t strangers to the eccentricities of the family.

Having completed the majority of the work necessary before the doors opened, Sophie wandered down to the main ballroom where people were still milling about getting everything ready and putting final touches on the decor. Her eyes scanned the crowd, though it didn’t take long to find him. It was as if she had known where he would be. She couldn’t help the smile that played at her lips as she moved forward; gingerly, as her hip had still been bothering her from yesterday’s walk around the grounds.

His back was to her, but she could tell by the wild curls that it was Endymion. She could see where his gaze was directed though; at a passing mirror that John and William were carrying past to bring to the main foyer. Laughing to herself, she reached him and teased, “Mr. Dempsey, your reflection is never going to respond back, you know, no matter how hard you stare.” Of course she couldn’t blame him. He was - in her opinion - the more handsome of the brothers (though at one time or another, she’d harbored a crush on all of them, not that she’d ever tell).

Endymion Dempsey - Elias Grimstone

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   Endymion Dempsey

He’d been caught out, then, while he glanced at himself in the mirror and readjusting his mask and his hair and the jerkin of his costume – but Endymion blushed only slightly. At least it was only Millie, and not one of his siblings. If Millie gave him trouble for it, it was still a kinder calibre of teasing than one of the other Dempseys might have made him endure.

“You think me quite as foolish as Narcissus?” Endymion said, ruining all the perfecting he had just done by shoving his mask up onto his head, and upsetting the curls he had carefully arranged. Instead, he clutched a hand to his heart and turned towards her, as though utterly wounded by it. Cruel of her to say – although he didn’t hate the rest of the comparison. (Narcissus had been exceptionally good-looking, after all.) But Sophie had given him the opening, and he was already in the pose for it, so he couldn’t stop himself from quoting Ovid’s poor idiot boy: “Has anyone ever loved more cruelly than I?”

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Having stayed with the family as long as she had, Sophie was not unaccustomed to their habit of quoting poems. In fact, when she realized that was a regular occurrence, she made herself a quick study of them. And of course, becoming Lowri’s lady’s maid and assistant had it’s own learning curve. But somehow, when it came to Endymion, her tongue was well and truly tied. Especially after seeing him in his regalia for the masquerade. But she laughed nervously and tried to make do of what rebuttal she could.

“Never quite as foolish as that, Mr. Dempsey!” She cried. “Never quite as foolish as that.”

She laughed at her own implication. Of course, she was unable to say that Mr. Dempsey hadn’t been foolish at one time or another. In fact, that seemed to be the moniker of this family from time to time if Sophie’s observations had any weight. “I only hope you aren’t expecting an Echo to accompany you tonight?” She grinned again at the running joke. “The poor girl would hardly be able to enjoy herself unless she was spoken to first.”