The two were whisked away towards the wealthier side of town by a pair of swift, pure-black Friesian horses. They rode in a richly appointed four-wheel carriage with an enclosed cargo area and glass windows. While the carriage was in motion, Sibyl's reserve was once more tested as Dorian closed the curtains and began changing into a silk tuxedo with a tail coat. She couldn't quite bring herself to look away, as he teasingly removed his shirt and trousers and slowly put on the more elegant, white-silk shirt and midnight-black trousers. The two locked eyes briefly and an animal-like energy filled the space between them—ending only as Dorian completed his dress with a light, golden-silk vest and bow tie.

The homes they passed along the road grew more expansive and more elaborate until, finally, the carriage arrived at the steps of the grand house of the Duke of Berwick. A footman greeted the couple and assisted them as Dorian dashingly guided Sibyl from the conveyance. He kept his left hand firmly holding hers and his other upon the small of her back. They walked together and, after ascending the steps, the two were warmly received at the arching entryway. The iron double doors stood open and were lit with large, ornate lamps to greet the guests. As they walked through the halls, a series of cinnamon-colored mahogany doors opened instantly at their approach. Finally, they were swept inside to the main ballroom along with the other arriving couples.

The stately ballroom was lavishly adorned with various rare artwork and exotic statues. A spattering of works that showed the proud face of the Duke or his fabled ancestors were spread among them. The eye was immediately drawn to the center of the room. There a flowing stonework peacock fountain shot water from its tail feathers and mouth. It was placed in the center of a gilded dance floor that had been constructed specifically for the evening. Brightly colored gas lamps highlighted the couples as they moved gracefully across the floor to intricately choreographed movements. Looking down upon the dancers was a tall ceiling which displayed baroque paintings in bright colors. The cross sections were adorned with sophisticated wood carvings and floral stonework. Several colossal crystal chandeliers hung low and spread a warm glow throughout the room.

The full orchestra was set to playing a lively waltz. With a laugh, Sibyl took Dorian's hand and pulled him towards the center of the floor. He smiled brightly as they assumed their positions with a bow. Dorian placed his right hand firmly on the back of Sibyl's left shoulder and pulled her close to him. The two began to move in unison as Dorian led with a confidence and boldness that put Sibyl at ease. She gazed deeply into his eyes as the two flowed across the floor. The music quickly diverged into various Polkas, Schottische, Valse à Deux Temps, and a modified Varsouvienne. Dorian's mastery of the many forms quickly put the other gentleman in attendance to shame. But all eyes were on Sibyl as she gracefully twirled and spun in her dazzling dress.

Throughout the evening, the pair were inseparable and remained together for nearly every song. They laughed together over private jokes and exchanged witty banter with the other guests. They drank sweet Champagne as they teased and flirted with each other late into the night. Finally, at half past twelve, a look of fear reached Sibyl's eyes as she realized the time. Dorian understood her plight immediately and escorted her without protest from the Duke's home to the waiting carriage. He instructed the driver to return to the poorer section where Sibyl's home was located.

During the carriage ride, Dorian and Sibyl sat very close and nestled together for warmth. Dorian lifted Sibyl's hand to his lips and planted several soft kisses on her palm and fingertips. He breathed softly as his mouth moved up to her delicate wrists. He paused at the sensitive skin of her inner elbow and let his tongue play, swirling around lightly. Sibyl let out a giggle of delight as the sensation both tickled and caused a throbbing between her thighs. Dorian continued to move upward, nibbling at her neck and shoulders while savoring the moment. Then, his lips began to explore her smooth face. When his mouth finally found hers, she opened her lips as their tongues darted in and out to intertwine in small circles. They caressed and stroked one another as the passion and heat grew—only to be interrupted by arriving at their destination far too quickly.

As the driver brought the carriage to a stop, Sibyl could barely bring herself to end the amorous and longing kisses the two now shared. She reluctantly urged Dorian to remain in the carriage, as she hurried out and towards the small apartment, where she knew her mother would be waiting—furious at the late hour of her return home.

Sibyl had to endure several multiple bouts of screaming and many threats to call the local constable to have her Prince Charming arrested before her mother finally calmed down. Eventually, the two women agreed to postpone the argument in favor of some much needed sleep.

The next morning, Sibyl tried to appeal to her mother's sense of romance and drama. "Mother, I am so happy." Sibyl sat with her mother, who was currently stooped over her sewing. She sat in a faded armchair located in their dingy sitting-room. Mrs. Vane's thin figure seemed unjustly aged beyond her years. A hard life spoke of many bitter disappointments and relentless labor. This could be seen in her lined face, thinning straw hair, and dull eyes. Her wrinkled and cracked hands were no longer the smooth and powdered instruments of grace befitting an actress, but were now more suited to those of a scullery maid or seamstress. Yet, her nearly transparent and spotted skin was still framed around the delicate bone structure and heart-faced profile that had lent itself to her own long-gone acting career. Now that beauty could only be reflected in her only daughter.

"Happy?" Mrs. Vane winced at the ache in her hands as she struggled to pull the stubborn thread through the ever elusive eye of the needle. "I am only happy when I see you on stage. You mustn't let this Prince Charming of yours distract you from your acting. It is the death of a young thespian's career to fall for the wrong man. It happened to me, ruining my illustrious future on the stage and I won't have the same terrible fate befall you as well."

"Mother, what does acting matter when I have the affections of such a glorious young man? He is a gentleman and the kindest and most handsome man I have ever met!" Her lips parted with a remembered kiss and she trembled slightly, reliving the moments spent together as he had courted her. Her Prince Charming had been shy at first, then surprisingly confident. His gentle demeanor gave way to more aggressive advances that bespoke of previous experience—but Sibyl didn't care. She loved him truly and deeply. "I love him, mother."

"Foolish child! It has only been a few weeks and you have only recently introduced him to me. I do not even know his rightful name! Rich he might be, but is he devoted to you? You must think of your acting above all things. Only with a firm offer of marriage should you even consider such a thing. Even then, a man's attentions can be a very fickle thing."

"Not my Prince Charming. He loves me as Antony did Cleopatra, as Orlando loved Rosalind! I do not even know why, or what I have done to deserve it. But he is the perfect image of what love should be. I know I am not worthy of him, but I try to be every day. Forgive me Mother, but I am so happy and I want to be this happy forever."

"You are far too young to fall in love. What do you really know of this man? Why, with your brother James leaving for Australia, this is a most improper time. Wait until your brother returns and can make the proper inquiries. How rich do you say he is? By his gifts, he certainly seems rich. Are you sure that necklace is real?"

The two broke off as the short, but stocky figure of James Vane entered the room. "Come Mother, Sister, it is time I was away—only first let me walk with Sibyl awhile to speak of this gentleman caller of hers."

"Ah James, my dear son, I will miss you dreadfully. How cruel the world is that we must be parted in such a way—but, I suppose, it must be so. You will return to us one day, with influence and position, to regale us with the great tales of your wonderful adventures. I hope you will be happy with your choice of a life at sea. You could have easily entered the troupe, or asserted yourself in London as a solicitor."

James patted her hand reassuringly. "Of course Mother. Only, promise me that you will watch out for Sibyl on my behalf. I hear this gentleman calls on her every night at the theatre."

"Oh James, do not worry. Of course I will watch over my own daughter. And this gentleman is very polite and obviously well connected. He is likely an aristocrat and if so it could be a brilliant match for your sister. He really looks remarkable and they make a most charming couple. They could contract a marriage alliance and he could fund her future performances—wouldn't it be glorious?"

Mrs. Vane glanced at her two children and with a grand theatrical gesture brought them both to her embrace. She played out the scene with tears brimming her eyes, as her children left her to make their farewells alone. It was a touching scene, worthy of one of her finer performances on the stage of her former life.

Her brother paced outside the small apartment in his impatient way. It was clear he was not fond of this subject of discussion. "Come, Sibyl."