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rom-e-o · 1 year

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In a Crowd of Thousands (Ebenezer/OC) ~ Part 1

It’s finally time for a masquerade-themed story.

Rating is PG-13. There is suggestive sexual content, adult language and alcohol/tobacco usage.

Let’s begin!

<><><><>

Esteemed syndicates and staff,

You are cordially invited to attend a masquerade ball hosted by Lloyd’s of London to celebrate the arrival of the summer equinox.

The theme for the evening is: Meierblis

Join us for this May-Blaze ceremony to partake in an evening of dancing, and rejoice as we light fires to frighten away the last of the winter chill and welcome the warmth of spring.

Please don costumes in accordance with the theme of the evening. In addition, all individuals not currently bonded by the right of Holy Matrimony are required to arrive alone, to maintain the notion of anonymity.

Please RSVP for the following:

Almack's King Street, St James's, London

April 30, 6-11p

The ballroom was decorated and dressed to the nines, the wide chamber lit with vanilla candles and the massive marble pillars flecked with gold and strung with more ribbons than a wealthy woman’s garter belt. The masquerade décor that Lloyd’s of London had commissioned to have the ballroom decorated with was as fantastical as it was all-encompassing. It matched the existing display of romantic oil paintings, Rococo-inspired furniture and cherubic paintings that spanned the domed ceiling of the space’s impressive rotunda so well, that the inexperienced eye might not even suspect the space was decorated for an event.

The only thing more adorned than the grand hall were the guests that began to file in, the pace as steady as a stream of salmon moving upriver. A parade of swishing shirts, feathered frocks and sequin-encrusted capes snaked its way into up the grand entry staircase and through a towering atrium. Just beyond a pair of massive doors with crystal doorknobs was the grand ballroom, which was steadily filling with chattering dancers and frantic attendees running around with trays of champagne and mints.

Among the crowds of individuals dressed in color combinations that would make even the most stunning cosmic galaxies turn and gawk, Ebenezer Scrooge stood as tall and rigid as an obelisk.

The older gentleman was donned in a simple uniform of black velvet, a red sash across his chest and gold accents. His mask was fashioned of simply black velvet, the color only highlighting the steely blue hue of his eyes. In a sea of color, he was tall, dark and handsome. With the added contrast of his silver hair against his dark costume, many sets of curious eyes fell upon him as throngs of people passed.

Ebenezer checked his pocket watch for the time. A quarter ‘til seven, its face read.

He sighed as slipped the instrument back into his pocket. The evening had barely begun, and he already felt antsy. He wondered briefly if he could sneak out but decided against it.

After all, he had been invited to the event and was representing his company. It would be bad manners to leave to leave unannounced, not to mention so early.

Besides, he couldn’t just leave Bob and his clerk slash fiancée, Constance, to fend for themselves.

When he’d first opened the wax-sealed invitation that had summoned him to the event, he had been optimistic if not a bit intimidated by the prospect of attending a ball. By principle alone, Ebenezer saw himself as a tad too introverted for grand events or dances. Then, there was the matter of the excess of the whole display.

Before and after his visit from the Three Spirits, he never found appeal in visual displays of wealth. Despite his miserly tendencies from years ago, he’d hoarded the funds instead of spending any money on opulence. Even now, most of the money he made went to charities and various other efforts to better the lives of individuals around London.

As such, such a candid display of wealth for a party was…concerning. It made him itch.

In fact, this entire festivity of indulgence was one that he thought the Ghost of Christmas Present would fit right into, he thought with a light chuckle. Wherever that jolly fellow was, he was missing a hell of a perfect party. He was fine with missing out on the company of his winged fairy friends, however.

Knowing that he couldn’t leave, he decided to continue to keep his eyes peeled for his associates.

Bob and Ethel, officially married, had been allowed to come together. However, much to his annoyance, the invitation had insisted that all women (even engaged ones – he’d checked) were to arrive alone, per party rules. He’d disliked the idea of leaving in a different carriage than her, but she had insisted over and over that she would be fine.

“I was a socialite, remember?” she told him with a kiss on the cheek. “I’ll find you. I promise.”

Now, in a crowd of thousands, it was like searching for a needle in a haystack. Or a dandelion, more accurately.

Before he could wallow for too long, his gaze snagged on a couple walking with unusual exuberance. Or, to be more accurate, the woman was bounding forward, absorbing the sights with frantic swings of the head. The gentleman she led followed as swiftly as he could on his thin legs. It was a tall fellow, and his red hair stood out vibrantly against the green suit jacket he’d donned. Even when being pulled along, his face bore a nervous yet incredibly familiar smile. It reminded him of…

“Bob? I say, Bob Cratchit, is that you?”

To his relief, two mismatched eyes quickly flicked to his. Unless there were two redheaded lads with heterochromia and cowlicks in London, it seemed he’d found his man.

“Ebenezer?” he asked, then sank into a relieved sigh. “Oh, thank goodness! Ethel, over here, darling!”

After muttering something to the woman on his arm, Bob Cratchit scurried over to the alcove that Ebenezer had tucked himself into.

“It’s good to see a friendly face,” Ebenezer said, reaching out to shake the man’s hand. “Well, half of one, anyway.”

“Haha, funny, sir,” Bob rushed to say, itching the back of his neck self-consciously. The gesture caused the mask upon his face to budge slightly. “T-This is quite a spectacle, is it not? I feel invisible and as if I’m under a stage light all at the same time!”

Right, Scrooge realized. This was likely the first time his former clerk had attended a gathering like this.

“Ethel, dear, you look radiant.”

“Thank you, Ebenezer! As do you. Very dashing!”

“You flatter me,” he supplied kindly, tucking his hands behind his back. “I’m simply relieved to hear my uneasiness isn’t showing. This is all very…ornate, isn’t it?”

Ethel, dressed in a frock of blue velvet that was embroidered with yellow and white daisies, beamed behind her mask. “I think it’s exciting!”

“Y-Yes, that’s a good word for it, dearest,” Bob said, smiling nervously and chuckling. However, Scrooge could tell from the quick side-glance that the poor redhead felt as awkward as he did.

“I say, where is Constance?” Ethel asked.

“I haven’t spotted her yet,” Scrooge said with a sigh, turning his head back to the crowd. He squinted, suddenly wishing he’d brought his glasses. All these faces were starting to look the same.

“Poor lady, all alone in this madness,” Ethel teased.

“It wasn’t my choice, believe me,” Scrooge huffed, “I’d much have her right here.”

“Why in the world did ladies need to arrive separately, anyway?” she asked. “That is, all the single ones?”

“Haven’t a clue,” Ebenezer offered, sighing again as he glanced around the atrium. His head flicked back and forth like a busy pigeon’s in a park square. “And she’s not single. She’s engaged. To me. However, apparently, that doesn’t count.”

“Which you obviously aren’t bitter about.”

“Obviously.”

“Ah, so this party is following the ‘single until married’ idea, huh?” Bob mused aloud. “A unique concept.”

“A stupid concept,” he grumbled.

“Oh, perhaps they have a little game in mind!” Ethel posed, which earned a worried glance from the older man. “Something to make the evening more interesting. A night to remember, if you will.”

The notion made Ebenezer’s eyes go wide behind his mask. “You don’t think—"

The thought of another man taking his fiancée into his arms was…far from pleasant. Regular waltzing was one thing, but if their plan was to truly pair up ‘single’ women for more intimate dances, that was something that made his blood start to heat up. In fact, he felt a vein pulse in his forehead at the thoughts of another man’s hands on her hips, her breasts pressed against another man’s chest, another pair of lips inches away from her own..

Seeing his wife was on the cusp of alarming the man, Bob swooped in quickly to put a pause on any additional conspiracies the two could concoct.

“Whatever the reason,” Bob started, seeking to calm his wife and his business partner simultaneously, “I’m sure she’s fine. After all, she hosted huge parties in New York for twenty years!”

“That’s true,” he admitted, his pallor returning to normal after a brief flush of anger.

“She was a socialite, host, ambassador, model…if anything, an event like this is her forte, sir!”

A light chuckle left Ebenezer’s lips.

“I know all that,” he said with a light smile. “No, I’m not worried about her fending for herself, believe me. Like you said, while this is a battlefield for me, this must be a candy store for her.”

“Oh?”

“No, I…simply miss her company,” Ebenezer admitted, casting his partner a sideways glance. “That’s all.”

<><><><>

Across the gilded atrium, in another guarded alcove that provided little respite from crowds, a portly fellow in feathers made chatter with a strawberry-blonde woman.

“Well, you certainly ar’ the loveliest flower I’ve e’er seen, my lady!” his voice drawled, his accent distinctly English, but his cadence and pronunciation not matching a London dialect. It seemed likely he’d been invited to the occasion from out of town, and had traveled in to rub elbows and mingle.

“Normally I don’t fancy flowers, especially them frilly ones, but for one as lovely as yo’self, I am willin’ to make an exception.”

His eyes licked up and down her form, taking in her shapely figure and dress. The cream-colored gown was embroidered with cascading blue flowers and petals. Her mask, simple cream satin, concealed the annoyed furrow of her brow.

“Oh, you’re much too kind, sir,” Constance DoGoode said with a smile that betrayed her true discomfort at the situation. “Truly, you are a flatterer! I wish I could talk longer, but I must be on my way. Now, if you’ll excuse—.”

Seeing an opening under one of his arms, she attempted to dive under it a make a quick escape. However, he swayed his body like a pendulum to cut her off.

“Aw, runnin’ off so soon?” he asked, the grin below his beaked mask devilish and knowing.

“I’m afraid so,” Constance said, attempting to laugh off his behavior. “You see, I’m meeting my associates here. I’m sure they’re looking for me.”

“Oh, forget them!” the stranger drawled as he reached out to cup her bare shoulder. She jerked lightly at the contact, but with the atrium wall behind her, the woman didn’t have additional space to seek solace in. “It’s a party, not a business meeting! Light’n up, girl!”

Constance lifted her hands and sat them upon her hips. He wasn’t going to relent as easily as others did, she realized.

“I’m meeting my fiancé as well,” she added, punctuating the sentence with a grin. “I’m engaged.”

“Ah, not hitched yet, then? Sounds like you’re still free range, lass.”

“I’m happily engaged,” she added, adding extra emphasis in hopes of chipping through his thick skull.

“All the same, really,” he said, “How about it? One last hurrah before you’re stuck beddin’ the same bloke fer the rest o’ your days?”

With a sigh and shake of the head, she peered into the middle-distance for a moment, as if trying to manifest something. Then, with the swiftness of a changing zephyr, her eyes lit up in realization. After then, she straightened her posture and smiled back at him.

“Well, since you asked so nicely, I suppose I could share a few moments,” Constance said, making a show of lowering her eyes to the ground and sheepishly moving her hands behind her back. “After all, I’m here for work, and I’m sure my associates wouldn’t mind if I took some time to enhance, um … business relations.”

Her coquettish demeanor and response pleased him, and his hand dropped from her shoulder to find the notch of her svelte waist. Then, he inched lower and squeezed her bum. “Very good. I’m glad you see things my way.”

Fighting the urge to cringe, Constance beamed innocently. “Oh yes. In fact, a man like you seems like just the variety of company I wanted for this evening.”

“Is that right?”

“Oh, yes,” she said, “I can tell just by chatting with you that you are a man with business sense! Well, how familiar are you with the London stock markets right now?”

For the first time, his confidence swayed. “Um, I’m not…”

“What am I saying, of course you’re versed!” she said, slapping his chest playfully. “Apologies. Now, let me break it down for you. Lately, area competition has been increased for individuals looking for banking resources.”

“Erm…banking?”

“Yes, and offices are being tempted to bend underwriting standards to make more aggressive, higher loan-to-value loans. Now, as we all know, moneylenders typically charge higher interest rates than banks. So, what’s your perspective on this issue?”

“M-Mine?”

“Yes, yours, you goose!” she said, enjoying how perplexed he looked. “You said you wanted to talk business, yes?”

Blinking like a freshwater fish on a line, the man lifted an arm to scratch the back of his neck self-consciously. “Ugh, I don’t really …”

Constance seized her opportunity and dashed under his arm, escaping the narrow area he had trapped her in. With a swish of the skirts, she was off, her heels clicking against the polished tiles as she weaved between other guests.

“Sorry!” she yelled back, “I’d recommend Lloyds Illustrated Paper for some light reading!”

“Hey!” he yelled over the heads of others, who all turned to look at him inquisitively.

Meanwhile, Constance scurried from the atrium, hail and gown flowing behind her.

Once she was a safe distance away, the woman flattened herself against the wall and peeked around one of the massive marble pillars that lined the space. After a quick sweep, she let out a sigh.

“Whew! That was close.”

Whether it was New York or London, it seemed perverted partygoers were an unfortunate commonality. She could only hope the rest of the evening would be more pleasant.

Of course, once she found Ebenezer, that was almost guaranteed.

She paused for a moment to glance down at the engagement ring on her finger. A solitaire-cut diamond on a simple gold back glittered back at her. It was stately and elegant; absolutely perfect and beautiful.

A smile lit up her face.

“I can’t wait to see you,” she mumbled to herself, bringing her hand to her chest and squeezing it tightly over her heart. “Ebenezer.”

Just the thought of meeting her handsome fiancé on the masquerade dance floor filled her with renewed energy.

Picking up her skirts again, she slowly descended the stairs to the south side of the ballroom, moving in sync with throngs of other costumed dancers toward the dance floor.

<><><>

On the north side of the ballroom, Ebenezer, Bob and Ethel eventually made their way into the ballroom, squeezing past a concerning number of partygoers who had already consumed too many glasses of champagne and were falling over themselves by the entryway.

“The sun hasn’t even set!” Bob remarked in astonishment, one arm wrapped protectively around Ethel as they walked. “Guests are already sloshed!”

“Heavens, how interesting,” Ethel remarked with a light laugh. “Well, if they plan to spend the entire evening here, I fear they won’t make it. Why, I think they’ll be passed out within the next hour.”

“Or half hour,” Ebenezer corrected as a drunken man in a gesture costume, complete with a jingle-bell trimmed collar, swerved into him.

With a gasp of surprise, he grabbed the man by the shoulders and straightened him as best her could. “Ah, goodness! Mind how you go, sir. I say, are you—?”

Giggling, the man staggered away before Scrooge could even finish his concerned inquiry. Mere moments later, he slipped into the arms of a woman in a peacock-inspired gown, Unlike Ebenezer, she was much less forgiving of the man practically falling atop her, and smacked him hard enough across the face to make him spin into the marble floor.

The trio winced in unison at the sound of impact. After a moment of silence, the other dancers and guests stepped over his body, laying limp and supine on the floor. Upon closer examination, his chest was moving up and down. Another beat later, the sound of snoring was barely audible above the rumble of party guests and small talk.

Ethel was the first to break the silence with a concerned clearing of the throat. “S-Should we maybe, um…”

The inquiry was cut short by a cacophony of trumpets that played a welcoming melody that boomed through the corridor. The sound caused all the guests to jump in unison before their masked faces split into wide grins and erupted into thunderous applause.

The sound was a summons from the ball’s hosts for everyone to gather around a mid-tier balcony that overlooked the ballroom, which occupied the lowest floor of the building.

Opting to follow the crowd, the trio slotted themselves in an open spot near the edge of a balcony, seeking solace between two large pillars that provided some relief from the crowds filling the space.

The actual dance floor glittered with golden marble tiles, and the edges were lined with tables of champagne and amuse-bouche type appetizers. With another blow of the trumpets, a small parade of gentlemen in ornate suits and matched masks strolled from a large arched doorway leading to a deeper part of the ballroom.

Even from afar, Ebenezer could recognize the men.

“I know them,” he said with a nudge and point. “That’s Mr. Drosselmeyer on the left, one of the longest underwriters with Lloyds. He’s a good man, he taught me the ropes alongside Jacob. The man in the middle is Howard Haversham II, a shipowner and major investor. He might be the richest man in all of England.”

“T-Truly?”

“Yes, but he’s exceptionally timid. That is, he keeps his wealth quiet. I’m quite surprised he’s appearing publicly.”

“Ah,” Bob said, obviously taking mental note of the identities his business partner pointed out. “I see. Oh, and what of the gentleman on the right?”

“I’m…huh. Hm.”

“What’s wrong? Are you not sure?”

Scrooge squinted, trying to make out the less distinct features of the last gentleman. The other two, he knew so well that he could identify them from a mile away. However, this last gentleman was one that he recognized from…somewhere. That much he could be certain of. He was of broader frame with silver-streaked chestnut-colored hair, and a grin that looked so natural on his visage that an artist could have sculpted it specifically for his frame.

“He looks so familiar,” Scrooge mumbled to himself. “Where in the world do I know his face from?”

“Have you spoken to him before?” Bob posed. “Maybe thinking about where you met him will help you remember.”

It was a good suggestion. As his mind retraced its steps to try and remember all the social events he’s attended and all the clients he’d met with, he found his memories drifting further and further back.

Then, the man extended a hand to a woman who emerged from the crowd. Her hair was crafted into an immaculate updo, her curls light and perfect. As she flashed a lovely, ruby-red smile up at the man, realization rushed him with the ferocity of an early-morning tide.

He hadn’t met the man, but he’d seen him. He’d seen him in a vision.

A vision from the future.

“Isabel’s husband.”

“Isabel?” Bob repeated, partially surprised by the informal use of another woman’s first name. “W-Who is that, sir?”

His mouth went slightly dry as he struggled to speak.

“She was, um…”

The trumpets blared again, Mr. Drosselmeyer stepped forward and cleared his throat.

“Esteemed guests, welcome to Lloyds of London’s first-ever masquerade gala!”

The room erupted in applause, which was silenced by a simple raise of the hand. Drosselmeyer wasn’t a particularly physically imposing man, but something about his presence unanimously demanded respect.

“For this monumental occasion, we have invited investors and notable business owners from across the country, and beyond,” he added. “Tonight, we are honored to have guests from India, China, the United States, Japan, Algeria, Scotland and Puerto Rico. The diversity in this room represents a promising, blooming economy that is varied and prosperous.

“We all hail from different lands with different languages. However, for tonight, we are united in anticipation for the spring season, and banishing the icy cold that has stilled our railroads, iced our streets and collapsed our buildings. Tonight, let us eat, drink and be merry and light bonfires to celebrate the blessing of the spring equinox!”

Another round of applause came as Drosselmeyer stepped back and Haversham stepped forward.

“Ladies and gentleman, I’m honored and grateful to be before you this evening,” the man said, his bow impressively deep for a man of his somewhat advanced age. “I began my business as a meager tradesmen, and now, I am surrounded by some of the most brilliant minds in the world.”

“Oh, his is mild-mannered!” Ethel whispered to Bob.

“While I am beyond honored to be invited to this tremendous occasion, I will admit that I also harbor a bias,” he revealed, hand moving to his heart. Then, his body pivoted to face the man on the right…the same one who Isabel had gone to. “My son, Captain Barnaby Haversham, has returned from a one-year mission to chart a new ship route through the treacherous and ice-filled Canadian waters. The maps produced as a result of this voyage will not only advance and expedite trading opportunities for our fine London entrepreneurs, but for those across the world!”

The man dipped his head kindly at his father’s sweet words.

Haversham continued, “He is joined here this evening by his son, William; daughters Emilia and Olivia; and his wife, Isabel Wright, nee Fezziwig, of Cornhill!”

She smiled and dropped into a curtesy, her one free hand lifting the hem of her skirt. The other three children swayed from the crowd. Two young women, both brunettes like their father, bowed with the same amazing grace of their mother. The son, a man who looked just shy of thirty, flashed a handsome grin before bowing.

A distinct sound of swooning came from the audience.

“Well, I guess if you’re the wealthiest man in London, you can bring unlimited guests,” Ethel commented, completely oblivious to Bob and Ebenezer’s ongoing conversation. “It helps when your son is an absolute looker! My oh my!”

“E-Ethel!”

“What? You have eyes. You know I’m right!”

“T-That’s not…”

A nearby guests shushed the couple as Haversham continued his speech.

“Tonight, as we celebrate our prosperous success as a nation, I implore you to spare a thought for men like my son, who make jobs like ours possible through hard work, perseverance, and bravery in the face of the unknown!”

Haversham led the crowd in another round of fabulous applause, which many raised their champagne flutes in recognition of.

Obviously flustered, Barnaby looked to his wife with a flushed grin. He seemed to mouth the words, ‘This is too much...’ to her.

With the same poise and grace she’d displayed decades before, Isabel nodded and gripped his arm reassuringly. Then, she took a ceremonial step back and joined in the applause.

With that, the trumpeters all began to filter down into the ballroom through a set of twin staircases at both ends of the ballroom. There, some drifted onto a small orchestral platform to commence playing a spirited symphony of notes that would be right at home at the start of a romantic opera.

At that same moment, William was immediately surrounded by a gaggle of young woman, each one masked but unchaperoned.

Ethel made a small sound of realization. “Ohhh. I see.”

“What?” Bob inquired.

“Well, I just realized,” she said, pointing to the crowd of woman accumulating around the man. “I…think I know why it was requested that all unmarried women come without a chaperone, dearie. Look over there.”

Bob followed his wife’s finger until his eyes also landed on the sight below them. Sure enough, rather than looking as bashful as his father had during his introduction, William was all smiles and wasted no time in kissing the hands of all the women who giggled over him.

“Oh,” Bob said, shoulders sagging in disappointment. “I think you may be right.”

Yet, as Bob and Ethel continued to watch, they saw his attention suddenly shift from the gaggle of ladies around him to something, or someone, on the other side of the room.

Following his line of sight, it only took a few seconds for them to spy exactly who had caught the man’s attention.

William’s eyes had fallen on a distinct woman in a cream and blue dress. Her rose gold hair fluttered unbound down her back, and her bare freckled shoulders made her stand out even further.

“Sir, look,” Bob said, elbowing his partner and pointing.

Scrooge, who’d been staring at Isabel since her entrance, snapped out of his daydream and followed Bob’s command. The instant he did, relief flooded his visage, and he instantly looked ten years longer.

“Constance!” Ebenezer called through the crowds.

Upon hearing her name called, the woman looked upwards. When their eyes met, her blue eyes fit up like twin supernovas.

“Ebenezer, there you are!”

Quickly, she picked up her skirt and dashed toward him eagerly, her smile wide and radiant.

All the while, William’s eyes lingered on her every move.

Even when Ebenezer wrapped his arms about her and placed a kiss upon her lips, his gaze did not waver.

In fact, it only seemed to make his eyes spark with further intrigue…as did his mother’s.

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