Chapter 13
It was the day of the ball, and Juliet and I were breakfasting and talking about our plans for the day.
Or rather, Juliet was talking. I was thinking about how much I’d cried the night before about missing my mother and father and siblings.
I missed our house, my bedroom, my horse, and being out of doors in the quiet of the afternoon.
I’d begun to think I was sadder about being away from home than about Lord Gotthurt’s rejection.
Jeremy entered the room with the morning mail. “You have a letter,” he said to me, handing me the folded and stamped paper.
“Thank you.”
“You’re very welcome.” He had been polite and kind to me for the last few days—I wasn’t quite sure when it started.
I couldn’t help but wonder if he felt guilty for persuading Lord Gotthurst and Mr. Shelley to pay attention to Juliet and me, especially since Lord Gotthurst had ended up breaking my heart.
Or perhaps that was too dramatic. Better to say: He had made me hope he was about to propose marriage, and then he disappointed me.
That sounded much better than that he had planned to marry me and then ended all connection because his family didn’t think I was wealthy enough for him.
But this was a letter from my mother!
I quickly broke the seal and found a second sheet of paper tucked inside hers filled with notes from my brothers and sisters.
Tears filled my eyes—I was so teary-eyed of late—as I read my mother’s letter, all about how she missed me—“you are my eldest girl and my best helper”—and how the children missed me as well.
“But I am happy you are there in London, no doubt making conquests of more than one young gentleman, and therefore I am glad. I hope you are having a wonderful time. Love and well wishes, Your Mama.”
What a good mother I had. I sighed, missing her but also grateful. I had to wipe away a couple of tears that slipped out, but I took a deep breath to drive the others away and to be able to read my siblings’ notes to me.
“Is your family well?” Juliet asked.
I glanced up and saw Juliet and her brother watching me.
“Oh, yes. My baby brother is teething, so he cries a lot, but everyone else is well.”
“I’m very glad to hear that,” Jeremy said. And he looked sincere. He must really feel guilty.
But I didn’t blame him for my disappointment.
He was only trying to help his sister. It was Lord Gotthurst who chose to throw me over because of his mother’s objections.
And honestly, I didn’t blame Lord Gotthurst .
. . very much. It would have been difficult for him to marry against his only parent’s wishes.
She could have made our lives miserable, if she didn’t care about her son’s happiness. And it seemed as if she didn’t.
But these were gloomy thoughts, and I wanted to be happy about the ball.
How nice it would be if I could fulfill my mother’s expectations and claim at least one conquest—or one marriage proposal.
“Conquests” didn’t seem to be a good way of thinking about respectable gentlemen, one of whom I would hopefully fall in love with and marry.
The day went by with some final beauty treatments from Madame Leonora, who seemed to be anticipating the ball even more than we were.
“You must promise to tell me all about the compliments you receive at this ball. You are both glowing with youth and vitality. You are beautiful, so beautiful,” she said in her lilting accent.
Lady Blackmoor’s ball looked to be the event of the Season, with some people I knew and many I did not.
Lady Blackmoor greeted us quickly and passed us forward to the ballroom, which was already becoming crowded. And then I saw Lord Gotthurst.
He was standing with two ladies, one who was older and one younger.
“Oh dear,” I said at the same time I heard Juliet say, “I hate the sight of him. Come, let’s go.”
Just as she took my arm and was pulling me toward the refreshments table, he turned and caught my eye.
I quickly looked away, not waiting to see what he would do or how he would look.
It seemed the musicians were getting ready, and the master of the ball announced, “The first dance shall begin very soon, so secure your partners now.” That usually meant the first dance would begin in about five minutes, which allowed just enough time to be introduced to someone new.
My heart started beating hard as I remembered when Lord Gotthurst asked me for the first dance. Would he even talk to me tonight? What would I say? But if he didn’t talk to me, I’d feel crushed all over again.
Jeremy Beaumont was suddenly beside me. “Miss Moore, would you do me the honor of dancing the first dance with me?”
“Yes, of course.”
“I shall return in a moment.”
He walked away just as Mr. Shelley came and asked Juliet for the first dance.
Mr. Shelley said, “You both look lovely this evening. It’s as if you have a light shining from within.”
Juliet and I exchanged a look. Madame Leonora would be so happy.
“Why, Mr. Shelley, what pretty words,” Juliet said.
“I know it sounds like flattery, but it is the truth. I stand by what I said.”
But he did look a bit embarrassed, I would even say smitten, as he gazed at Juliet.
I suddenly became aware of Lord Gotthurst making his way to me, a grim look on his face.
My heart sank, but I would not be afraid. I would be strong. After all, I had done nothing wrong.
“Miss Moore, you are looking well,” he said almost before he reached me.
“Thank you.” I felt a bit of anger rise up, which was keeping my spine straight and my head high.
“I wish to ask your forgiveness. Mr. Shelley told me that he informed you of—” He paused to swallow. “—my predicament. Please tell me you forgive me for my mother’s . . . implacableness.”
“I forgive you and your mother, I am only disappointed that my faith in you was unmerited.” I trembled at my own words, my hands shaking and my knees weak. Was it too harsh? It felt harsh, and yet it was absolutely true. Tears stung my eyes.
Mr. Shelley and Juliet were talking and flirting, oblivious to the distress I was feeling and the way Lord Gotthurst’s expression—like a wounded deer—was pinned on me.
If he said another word, I would not be able to hold back the tears that were so close to the surface. If he did not look away, or if I did not excuse myself, I would start crying. The tears were right there, about to fall. What could I do? I was afraid to move or say a word.
Jeremy Beaumont was striding toward me, no doubt to claim his dance with me. But when he reached us, he placed himself between us, facing Lord Gotthurst and speaking in a voice so quiet I couldn’t hear. But it gave me a chance to turn aside and take deep breaths, dispelling my tears.
They only spoke for a moment, and then Lord Gotthurst went back to his mother and sister.
Jeremy turned to me, as the dancers were beginning to take their places, and escorted me to the floor, with Juliet and Mr. Shelley lining up beside us.
“Your aunt, Mrs. Kendall, has been helping me find a companion for Juliet,” Jeremy said as we waited for the music to signal us to move.
“That is good.” Thank You, dear Jesus, that I didn’t cry. And thank You that Jeremy is talking of other things.
“We can speak tomorrow with the lady she has suggested.”
“Is my aunt here, then?”
“Yes, I spoke with her a few moments ago.”
I glanced around until I saw Mrs. Kendall sitting nearby. She smiled and waggled her eyebrows at me.
How strange that Jeremy would consult my aunt in this matter, for he knew how mercenary Mrs. Kendall was about securing me a husband—how she wanted him to be my husband.
“She knows a widow who she says is very trustworthy, but I wanted you and Juliet to be introduced to the woman first, to make sure you are agreeable. You will be spending a lot of time with her, after all.”
The music started, and we began to move about the crowded ballroom, somehow avoiding any collisions with the many dancers around us.
Part of me wanted to ask Jeremy what he and Lord Gotthurst said to one another, but part of me wanted to avoid the subject entirely. For now it was enough that Jeremy had helped me by sending him away. And dancing the first dance with me.
“We look like a large flock of sheep in a small pen,” I said.
Jeremy actually smiled. Whether from amusement at my feeble joke or from derision at my country humor, I neither knew nor cared. I was just relieved that my first meeting with Lord Gotthurst was over, I had avoided crying, and now I could enjoy the rest of the ball.
Jeremy Beaumont was an agreeable dance partner, holding eye contact with me and dancing with grace and precision.
He might speak a few words if there was a lull in the dance, which was inevitable with certain dances, while we waited for the other couples to promenade down the middle, between the rows of dancers.
He never tried to get too close, as was the case with some gentlemen, and was never timid about taking my hand if the dance required it.
Yes, I would say he was one of the better dancers I’d danced with since arriving in London.
I caught sight of Miss Snowden, who it appeared had arrived late and was standing with her mother, Lady Snowden, both of whom were watching Jeremy. Was Jeremy sorry he couldn’t have danced with Miss Snowden instead of me?
I turned my full attention back to my dance partner.
My confidence had taken a blow, but I reminded myself that I was rarely in want of a partner at all the balls I’d attended, and several gentlemen had called on me afterward. I had no reason to think I was at all repulsive—at least, not to most young gentlemen, only to their mamas.
When the dance was over, Jeremy escorted me to Mrs. Kendall and excused himself.