Chapter 2 #2
When it was over and he was walking me toward Aunt Kendall, he said, “Enjoy the rest of your time in town. I hope it won’t be too noisy for you.”
I pretended not to hear and made him no reply.
“Thank you for the dance, Miss Moore,” he said as politely as one might wish as soon as we were in earshot of my aunt. “Very good to see you again, Mrs. Kendall. Please give my best regards to Mr. Kendall.”
“Oh, I shall, I thank you, Mr. Fortescue. I trust we shall see you again, as my niece will be visiting with me all Season.”
“Very good. I shall look forward to it.” He bowed with his disgusting smile that I couldn’t believe I ever thought was charming and went to join his friends.
“What a conquest,” she said in a triumphant voice. “Cornelius Fortescue would be such a good match for you.” She looked at me. “Are you well, my dear? Are you not pleased?”
“I am well, but I don’t think he fancies me.”
“Oh, I’m sure that cannot be true. He asked you to dance, the very first dance, and you looked very pretty on the dance floor. The two of you appeared so well matched.”
“I don’t think he liked my country manners.”
“Whatever do you mean? What did you say?”
“I will tell you later.”
My aunt was already glancing around the room again. “Why don’t we go and get some lemonade. I’ll introduce you to some more people along the way.”
We started toward the refreshments, and Aunt Kendall introduced me to two more young gentlemen, the two men who had stood talking with Mr. Fortescue immediately after our dance. They held their heads high, their eyes barely condescending to notice me, as they mumbled a cool greeting.
We moved past them, and my aunt said, “Oh my, it’s Jeremy Beaumont. He’s here with his sister Juliet—she’s the younger sister, just your age, I believe. Come and I will introduce you.”
“May I be excused for a few moments? Perhaps there is a balcony where I might get a breath of air?”
“Of course, my dear, but don’t be long. There are many more people, and I will need to make the introductions.”
She pointed me down a hall, and I made my way toward it, careful not to look anyone in the eye.
I felt as if I was suffocating.
As I went down the hall, I realized I had no idea where the balcony might be. Had I somehow passed it? If only a servant would appear so that I could ask them. But no one was in the hallway except two very elegant ladies.
As they passed me, they eyed me, but as we had never been introduced, they did not acknowledge me, and it would be very bad manners—country manners—if I spoke to them, even to ask where I might find a balcony.
There was a door up ahead that was slightly ajar. The room appeared dark, so I ducked inside. At least here I might be alone for a few moments to gather my courage to go back out again.
I stood just inside the door, which I left open about an inch. The room appeared to be a small library with windows at the other end that were covered in heavy drapes. I took a deep breath and let it out slowly, closing my eyes.
Why should I care what that ridiculous Mr. Cornelius Fortescue thought of me?
How dare he ridicule me for being from the country and having eleven brothers and sisters?
I wished I’d never told him anything about me.
He didn’t deserve to know my family or anything about them.
Arrogant, detestable man. And his friends.
I couldn’t care less about them either. They were just as rude and unkind as he was.
If these were the only kind of men in London, perhaps I was better off staying at home, where at least my brothers and sisters loved and accepted me.
Perhaps my aunt’s expectations for me were too lofty, and I wasn’t suited to this level of society.
But my family was counting on me.
I became aware of heavy breathing. As I gazed toward the windows and my eyes adjusted to the dim light, I could just make out a standing figure silhouetted against the drapes.
I opened my mouth to speak, but the person moved. Then I realized it was two people, and they were kissing quite passionately.
“You are so handsome,” a breathy, feminine voice said.
“Don’t talk,” a male voice answered back.
I hurried out, my face burning as I practically ran down the hall. But where was I to go now? I reached the end of the hall and felt the tears spill from my eyes.
I covered my mouth to stifle any sound, horrified lest someone see me crying. If my country manners were offensive, my display of emotion would be even more appalling.
I had no handkerchief, so I flicked away the tears with my fingertips, taking deep breaths to force them to stop.
Why had I come here? These people were nothing like me. The gentlemen I was supposed to be attracting were laughing at me. How disappointed everyone would be in me—my aunt, my mother, my sisters. I was letting them all down.
As I took deep breaths and pushed these distressing thoughts away, I started to feel calmer.
But I couldn’t help remembering what I’d seen—the couple kissing in the dark empty room.
Had they seen my face? I certainly couldn’t see their faces, but I’d been next to the doorway, and when I opened it, the light from the hallway would have illuminated me.
My face grew hot again.
I did nothing wrong, I reminded myself. But I felt sick in my stomach anyway. There were so many things I didn’t know, having lived in the country all my life. Would everyone else have known that one should not enter dark rooms at a ball?
I’d never kissed anyone, except for my siblings on their cheeks or foreheads, or my mother on the cheek. But to hide in a dark room and kiss someone I wasn’t related to . . . Was this something high society people did at balls and assemblies?
I wanted to go home.
“Are you well?”
I spun around to find a young woman who looked to be about my age, gazing at me with so much compassion in her expression that I felt the tears flood my eyes again.
No, I couldn’t cry. It would be so improper.
I took in a deep breath, desperate to push the tears away. “I am well, I thank you.”
“Sometimes one simply must have a good cry to feel better, yes?” She smiled, and I couldn’t help but smile back.
“That is true, I think.”
“I wish I had a handkerchief to offer you. Shall I go fetch one?”
“No, no, I am well.” I patted my face with the back of my hand and forced myself not to sniff. Mother said it was very bad manners to sniff in public. Besides, it worked almost as well to hold my head high and breathe in deeply through my nose.
What a good thing it was that no one could hear my thoughts.
“I am Juliet Beaumont.”
“Amelia Moore. I’m here with my aunt and uncle, Mr. and Mrs. Oliver Kendall.
I’m afraid I don’t know anyone else here, and I’m feeling a bit out of place.
I danced the first dance with a gentleman who was very .
. . well, I believe he was laughing at my ‘country manners.’ He made the assumption that I had a dozen brothers and sisters and called me ‘provincial.’”
“Oh, what a terrible lout.”
“I do have eleven brothers and sisters.”
“There is no shame in having a large family.”
“I believe he took issue with me saying that I couldn’t sleep my first night here because it was so noisy in London. I spoke too freely.”
“Since when is it wrong to be honest and express one’s opinion about London’s noise? No, you did not speak too freely. He is a boor, very uncivil and ungentlemanlike.”
How delightful she was. I should have paid more attention when she told me her name, for now I couldn’t remember it.
“If you wish, I shall have my brother school him on proper manners toward a lady.”
“Oh no, please do not. I don’t wish to make a fuss.”
“Well, you shall be my particular friend for the evening, and I shall dare anyone to be rude to you.” She slid her arm through mine.
“You are so kind. Thank you. I don’t have nearly enough friends.”
I blushed. I needed to stop saying whatever came into my head.
Fear attacked me. Would my new friend shun me for being a missish country girl?
“You are in good hands with me. If that ungentlemanly lout should even get near you, I shall snub him with all my might.”
Her enthusiasm lifted my spirits. “Thank you for that. But do I look as if I’ve been crying? I shall be mortified if anyone guesses—”
“Not a bit. You look very pretty. Your dress is just the shade of pink that I like, and the ribbons in your hair are lovely.”
“Thank you. My aunt’s lady’s maid, Francine, did very well at managing my thick waves, but I probably shouldn’t have mentioned a servant. Oh dear. I should just refrain from speaking, for every time I speak, I say something wrong. The worse news is that I talk when I’m nervous.”
“Do not think so. It is refreshing to find someone who isn’t always trying to pretend in some way or another, engaging in artifice to manipulate people into believing they are somehow better than they are.”
The expression of my new friend—Juliet! That was her name, I remembered now—was so sincere and kind. Thank you, dear Lord God, for Juliet.
“I very much like the artless and friendly way you say what you mean,” she went on. “It’s delightful, and I hope you do not change yourself for any of these pompous people.”
No one had ever said such things to me before. And as we walked into the ballroom together, I felt much braver.
I introduced Juliet to my aunt, but as I’d forgotten her last name, Juliet had to supply it. Beaumont. That sounded familiar, but I didn’t have time to consider why.
My aunt seemed inordinately pleased to make her acquaintance. I was touched at how happy she was that I’d made a new friend.