A War Within (Epic WWI Love Story) Read online

Céline came in and helped each girl into her gown, lacing up the corsets in the back. When they finished, they stood side-by-side in the mirror admiring how incredible they both looked. Their aunt still had their measurements, and she had picked out gowns more beautiful than the girls could have imagined.

  “Time to go!” Alexis said. “Papa said Monsieur and Madame Ellison from down the road are picking us up. Raulf was going to come with us but he’s not feeling well. Let’s not keep them waiting!”

  The girls fastened their masks on with the black string and raced down the stairs, their excitement for the night to follow becoming too intense to hide. Henri stood at the front door, his hands behind his back and a smile on his impeccably groomed face. They stopped and pecked the cheek of their father, standing proud in his formal suit and bowtie. The buttons practically popped as it had been years since he had worn it. The attention they drew from the girls didn’t go unnoticed.

  “If these buttons don’t end up popping off and ending up in someone’s champagne by the end of the night, I will consider the night a success!” Her father laughed as he gestured to his ample belly. “Come on, girls. Your chariot awaits!”

  They greeted their neighbors and climbed into the carriage. The driver took up the reins and encouraged the horses on. Isabelle looked at the barn and secretly wished that Auguste would be coming. Since seeing him face-down in a pile of mud, she felt vindicated after their altercation the other day, and yesterday he’d even been pleasant to talk to. Now she wanted to talk to him more, to pick inside that mind that had her reeling to understand him. One minute he seemed interested, another he humiliated her, and now he had softened, and it left her senses whirling. That and the thought of him in a dress suit made her stomach tumble down into the abyss he sent it to every time he smiled. She could curse his name and deny it all she wanted, but Isabelle knew one look from those eyes could unravel her.

  The carriage bounced down the road until it reached the entrance of the Cosgrove residence. Excitement bubbled up inside her when they turned onto the perfectly manicured drive lined by hundreds of tall, meticulously groomed shrubs. As the carriage made its way down the drive, the girls peeked out from behind the curtains. Both sets of eyes widened as the impressive white mansion became visible. It made their enormous home look small in comparison. It was surrounded by gardens, and flowers and a large water fountain gushed water into the air and reflected the orange lights as the sun dipped beneath the horizon in the rolling green fields behind the house.

  “Incredible!” Alexis said as they pulled to a stop in the line of carriages and cars waiting to drop off their esteemed passengers. They finally made their way to the front of the line and a formal doorman opened the door and assisted the girls out. Looking up the marble stairs, Isabelle saw an extravagantly turned out couple greeting the guests. Next to them was a beautiful young woman and two very handsome young men.

  “Those must be the Cosgroves,” Alexis whispered to Isabelle. “I’ve heard they are quite the family back in Ireland, and rumors have it that their sons are incredibly handsome... and available!”

  Isabelle chuckled at her sister. It was still Alexis’ dream to find the perfect society match, and a family as esteemed as the Cosgroves would be ripe for consideration. Being married into a society family where she would be paraded around and stuck attending functions every evening sounded like a nightmare to Isabelle. She wanted freedom and love. Burning, passionate, undeniable love.

  “Shall we?” her father said, offering them each an elbow. The girls each took an arm and walked up the stairs until they reached the proper family standing at the top.

  “You must be Monsieur Henri Barouche,” the tall, lanky gentleman in the fine suit said to Henri when they arrived.

  “Indeed, I am!” Henri laughed. “And how could you know that, monsieur?”

  “Rumors of your two beautiful daughters have reached us as far as Ireland. I could only assume by the looks of these two that you must be Henri Barouche and these your daughters, as I have yet to see any other women here that come close to their beauty.” The man smiled at Henri. “And I am Monsieur Cosgrove. This is my wife Madame Cosgrove, my daughter Alicia Cosgrove, my eldest son Theodore Cosgrove, and my youngest son Charlie Cosgrove.”

  “A pleasure to meet you all,” Henri said. “These indeed are the famous Barouche beauties. My eldest daughter, Alexis and my youngest daughter, Isabelle.”

  The two girls peeked through their masks, curtsied and tipped their heads as he said each of their names.

  “Welcome to the masquerade. Please, go and enjoy yourselves. We will be sure to find you inside to discuss how you continue to breed the horses that continuously beat ours!” Monsieur Cosgrove laughed as he patted Henri on the shoulder.

  The girls started into the house and Isabelle couldn’t help but notice the eyes of the youngest son, Charlie, following her up the stairs. She turned to see him standing there, shamelessly smiling and staring at her as she passed him by. With dark brown eyes sparkling with confidence and light brown hair cut short and styled to the side, he was admittedly handsome. Isabelle turned away and felt his stare follow her until she disappeared inside the impressive mansion.

  “Isabelle!” Alexis whispered. “Did you see Theodore? He kept smiling at me! He’s so handsome I could just faint! Do you think he’ll ask me to dance tonight? I do hope so! He’s just the kind of man I have been looking for!”

  Isabelle had indeed noticed the attention Theodore had bestowed upon her sister. As Charlie had stared at her, Theodore had stared at Alexis. Isabelle slid her arm around her sister and squeezed her waist and whispered back. “If he’s lucky enough for you to accept, dear sister.”

  The girls giggled as they made their way into the main ballroom. Everything looked superb, with marble floors, and pillars made of stone stretching tall to the vaulted ceiling. Two grand staircases wrapped down each side of the impressive room. Groupings of lit candles gave off a warm light that enveloped the majestic crowd. Hundreds of people dressed in their finest with their faces hidden behind a colorful array of masks milled about, chatting and holding long-stemmed flutes. With the war going on, there were very few young men not serving, but the older ones and women of all ages filled every corner of the room. It was a party fit for a king.

  “Champagne, mademoiselle?” A servant carrying a tray full of crystal champagne glasses asked, offering Isabelle a glass.

  “Thank you,” she said as she and Alexis each took a glass. Henri leaned forward and took two.

  “In case he doesn’t get back fast enough.” He winked at them and then saw an old friend in the distance. “I must go say hello! I will see you two soon!”

  The girls giggled as their father bounced his way through the crowd, calling to his old friend, champagne glasses clutched tight in each hand.

  “I do hope Papa doesn’t make a complete fool of himself tonight,” Alexis said, shaking her head.

  “It wouldn’t be a party if he didn’t.” Isabelle and Alexis laughed. “Now, who do you want to talk to? Besides Theodore,” Isabelle teased.

  After an hour of socializing and reuniting with old friends, the girls excused themselves from their latest conversation with a group of old men leering down their dresses and sought the company of some of their friends.

  “Is that Audrey and Cecille I see over there? It’s so hard to tell who’s who with their masks on!” Alexis remarked, straining to make out the silhouettes of the girls they used to go to school with.

  “The only way we will know for sure is if we go and see them up close,” Isabelle said, and she pulled her sister by the hand.

  The two girls made their way through the crowded room, trying to figure out the identity of each guest. Friends they had known for years remained complete strangers to them until they approached. The whole picture mesmerized Isabelle. The band playing, the colors, the clothes, the decorations... it was unlike any party she had ever been to.

  “Isabelle! Alexis!
” Cecille shouted as the girls grew near. “Is that you?”

  They smiled and laughed and ran up to Cecille and Audrey and they squealed with excitement.

  “You two look amazing!” Audrey shrieked as she spun Isabelle around. “That dress is to die for!”

  “Thank you! It was a gift from Aunt Brigitte!” Isabelle answered.

  The party continued to grow while the girls caught up, telling stories from the year since they’d last seen one another. Drinks flowed and with the encouragement of the alcohol, the dance floor filled with people. The music and movement had Isabelle tapping her toe, yearning to take a turn on the polished dance floor, but she had yet to find a suitable partner. Visions of Auguste twirling her around the floor invaded her mind, and she wished he was here. A man behind one of the sparkling masks. Just as he dipped her in her mind, guilt overwhelmed her since it was Auguste she was missing tonight and not Pierre. He’d loved to dance, and he’d made sure to dance whenever the opportunity presented itself... and sometimes at inopportune times, like twirling her around a store or the dining room while she fought in false protest.

  “Such a beautiful lady should be shining at the center of the room, not hidden off in a corner.” Isabelle felt a breath blow across her ear startling her from her thoughts.

  Turning around, she saw Charlie Cosgrove standing behind her. “Monsieur Cosgrove. What a lovely party your family has thrown. I want to thank you for inviting us.”

  “It’s my pleasure, Mademoiselle Barouche. I am just pleased to see that it has finally allowed me to meet the famous beautiful French belle.”

  “Please, call me Isabelle.”

  “As you wish, Isabelle. Then I insist you call me Charlie. Perhaps I could have a dance later? I must go address some more guests or my father will have my head. So, will you save a dance for me?” he asked with a smile.

  Though he wasn’t who she wished was taking her around the dance floor, she still needed a partner tonight. He was handsome... she couldn’t deny that. Arrogant no doubt, as well. “Of course, Charlie.”

  “Then I shall find you soon,” he said as he clinked her glass with his and disappeared into the room.

  When he left, Alexis and Audrey grabbed her arm. “What did he say?” they both squealed in unison.

  “He wanted a dance. That’s all. Nothing to get worked up about girls. He’s not my type. However, I do need a dance partner,” Isabelle answered.

  “Not your type? He’s every girl’s type! Smart, handsome, rich, respectable... did I mention rich?” Cecille chimed in.

  Isabelle smiled and shook her head. He may be every girl’s type but she wasn’t every girl. She wanted someone who moved her in her very soul. A love she couldn’t deny. A love like her parents had. Men like Charlie would always see her as a possession, a trophy to be paraded around and put away when he had no further need of her. Living that life would smother the fire inside her and she had known for years it would never make her happy. Isabelle stared out onto the dance floor again and envisioned Auguste strolling across it to ask for her hand.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  “SEE SOMETHING OUT THERE?” Auguste heard Raulf’s voice call out from behind him. The sore throat that had plagued him since this morning had his already rough voice sounding a little coarser than normal.

  “Just checking the weather, Raulf. That’s all.” Auguste lied as he ducked back into the barn. He’d been staring at the driveway where he’d last seen her carriage when she’d left an hour ago, like he hoped if he stared hard enough she would materialize again. A loose horse had kept him busy when they were getting ready to leave, and when he’d raced to get a glimpse of her in her dress, all he’d seen was the carriage pulling away. Now he’d been peeking at the spot every time he passed by the stable door.

  “You know, Auguste, I have a tuxedo I was planning on wearing to the ball tonight. If you wanted to go, I would happily lend it to you since I’m not feeling up to going. It might be a smidge tight in the chest, but we are about the same height and weight.”

  Auguste stared at Raulf. Was it really possible he knew how much Auguste wanted to be by Isabelle? Did he dare show up at the party? He did really want to go.

  “It would be a shame if it went to waste, Auguste.”

  After a few moments of contemplation, he finally responded. “Well, you’re right Raulf. It would be a shame. Perhaps I should try it on just to see if it fits,” he said with a mischievous smile.

  The look in Raulf’s eye confirmed his suspicion. He knew... or at least suspected. “Follow me.” Raulf led him through the barn to his private quarters above the stalls. Auguste stood in the sitting area while Raulf went to his bedroom and soon emerged with a black and white tuxedo and a coal-black mask.

  “You can change in my room.” Raulf tossed the suit to him and pointed to his room.

  With a nod, Auguste went in and undressed before slipping on the formal suit. The last time he’d worn one had been in German training, more than five years prior. Part of his training had included lessons on speech, manners and his ability to blend into society. Attire had been one of those lessons. A flood of memories rushed back while he smoothed his hands down the soft material. Though Raulf was right and his muscular chest was a bit constricted, the rest of the suit fit as if it was practically custom made. The white waistcoat and shirt were a sharp contrast to the long tails and shadbelly coat. Auguste pulled the mask down and fastened the string behind his head. When he caught a glance of himself in the mirror he had to admit he looked like he’d fit right in at the formal party.

  “Well, well! Don’t you clean up nice?” Raulf said when Auguste emerged from the bedroom. “Go on and have yourself some fun, my friend. You’ve certainly earned it.”

  Auguste thanked him and shook his hand before heading down the stairs to the stable. In the far stall, Beau munched his hay. He lifted his head and nickered when Auguste appeared.

  “Dinner’s over, old boy. We’ve got ourselves a party to get to.”

  Auguste tacked up Beau while being careful not to dirty the suit. He led Beau outside and swung his leg over the saddle. With a cluck of his tongue, Beau cantered off down the drive. Periodically throughout his journey, he questioned his motives and considered turning around. However, the thought of seeing Isabelle in her gown and perhaps even asking her to dance, urged him on.

  When he arrived at the mansion, laughter and music drifted outside and it sounded like one hell of a party happening within. Not that he would know what made a good party since he’d never actually been to one. An attendant waved him over and offered to take his horse. Insisting he settle him in himself, they pointed him to the back of the house where he found the empty stall with a bucket of water and hay for Beau.

  “Wish me luck, boy,” Auguste said after untacking him. Giving his faithful horse a pat on the neck, he headed into the party.

  He walked up the marble stairs and entered the impressive mansion. Until now, Isabelle’s house was the nicest place he’d ever been. No amount of training could have prepared him for the spectacular sights. Between the sheer size of the place, the expensive décor, and the elegant guests, he suddenly felt out of place... he was an orphan at a debutant masquerade ball. He considered leaving, but the thought of Isabelle pushed him on.

  When he entered the ballroom, he scanned through the hundreds of people laughing and dancing and drinking the night away. In the sea of masked faces, there was only one he wanted to see. But with everyone in disguise and having no idea what her dress looked like, she could have been anyone.

  “Champagne, monsieur?” a servant asked as he presented the tray to Auguste.

  “Thank you,” Auguste responded, taking a flute. “Any chance there is a bar with whiskey nearby?”

  “Certainly, monsieur. Through that door into the parlor you will find a full bar, stocked to your liking.”

  “Perfect,” he said, then guzzled the champagne in one swig before setting it back on the tray. The ser
ver arched a brow but then gave him an appreciative nod before spinning away.

  Needing something stronger to fuel his resolve, he made his way through the crowds until he found himself at the bar in the parlor.

  “Whiskey. Neat,” he said to the gentleman behind the bar.

  “Of course, monsieur.” The bartender grabbed a bottle of whiskey and poured it into a glass. Auguste took it and headed back out in the ballroom to see if he could pick Isabelle out of the countless ladies hidden behind an assortment of colored masks. Somehow he knew, even hidden behind a mask he would recognize her in an instant. What he was going to do when he saw her was still muddled in his mind. He took a long swig of the whiskey and hoped by the time he got to the bottom he’d know what to do.

  “ISABELLE.” SHE HEARD a voice from behind. When she turned around, Charlie stood in front of her again. “Would you and your sister do me the honor of accompanying me upstairs to converse with my family? My brother, Theodore, has been asking for Alexis.”

  Alexis lit up and she looked at Isabelle with pleading eyes. “We would be honored, Charlie. If you’ll just give us a moment, we will meet you at the top of the stairs.”

  “With pleasure, Isabelle. I look forward to seeing you soon,” he said, walking away.

  The girls shrieked in excitement and Isabelle shushed them.

  “He wants to meet me, Isabelle! This could be it! Alexis Cosgrove. It has a ring, doesn’t it? I think it has a ring! And you can marry Charlie and then we’ll be the Cosgrove sisters! I can just see it now. A double wedding and we—”

  “Alexis,” Isabelle said, cutting her sister short. “I do not see myself marrying Charlie Cosgrove. And I’m only doing this for you. As soon as you are good on your own I am leaving his side. Deal?” Isabelle scowled.

  “Deal.” Alexis sighed. “But you really should give him a chance, Isabelle. It’s not fair that you are discounting him before you even get to know him. Just give him a chance. Okay?”