Chapter Three #2
“Harriet, relax. Breathe. You’re doing so well and you dance better than most.”
She nodded and went back to concentrating on the dance. As the waltz was winding down, she noticed a pair of young men watching them. They weren’t as young as some of the others she’d been introduced to, but they seemed to be on the lookout for their ideal of a proper young woman.
As the dance came to an end, Arthur bowed handsomely and led her to the side where Daphne was standing. Probably a good thing because Winifred was entering the dance floor with a young man she’d not seen before. She seemed genuinely excited by this dance partner and Harriet wondered who he was.
“You looked so regal out there, Harriet. Your dancing is superb,” Daphne said with a warm smile.
“She will easily gather a reputation of being an exceptional dancer,” Arthur said. “I thoroughly enjoyed it.”
“Thank you, Arthur. You’re too kind,” Harriet replied.
The evening was deemed a success. Not counting her dance with Arthur, Harriet had four other dances with various young men.
Most of her dance partners had been attentive, listening to her or making sure she wasn’t left alone afterwards.
Word had spread that she was here with a close relative and not her parents.
She caught herself chattering away about her various encounters with men who’d come to speak with her or danced with her on the carriage ride home. Harriet suddenly realized she must sound like a fool to Arthur and Daphne and tried to change the subject to the various young ladies’ gowns.
Just that quickly they were in front of Jameson House.
Once in the grand entrance hall, she bid both Daphne and Arthur good night.
She was still so excited about the evening’s success, she doubted she’d sleep much.
They didn’t need to hear her go on about the evening and deserved to have some privacy.
Her lady’s maid was waiting for her when she entered her room. Coaxed by the young girl, Harriet gave her a summary of the evening’s highlights. Finally, she crawled into bed, but instead of lying awake recounting her evening, Harriet fell sound asleep and didn’t wake up until morning.
*
Harriet descended the stairs to the main floor and found the breakfast room.
She noted two floral arrangements as she walked but thought nothing of them.
Entering the room, she found both Arthur and Daphne eating.
She greeted them before going to the sideboard to make her selections.
Coddled eggs, toast, and fresh fruit were her choices.
Sitting down across from Daphne, she waited as the footman set the plate and bowl in front of her.
It was true, she’d never received any sort of gift or flowers from a gentleman.
“Did you notice the flowers?” Daphne asked with a gleam in her eyes. “You seem to have the attention of a few of the men you met last evening.”
She stared at her, unbelieving what she heard. “Those are mine?”
“Yes. I left the cards on the side of each vase. There are a couple more and some things in the drawing room.”
“I’m not believing this. I’ve never received flowers from a man before,” Harriet said.
She tried not to let her mouth hang open in disbelief.
It was true, she’d never gotten flowers from a gentleman before.
It was a new and exciting experience, and as soon as she finished eating she would go read all the cards.
She glanced Arthur’s way, but he had his head behind a newspaper.
Men were such strange creatures. They tried to act like nothing phased them.
No emotions and they did not dare to share with anyone, let alone a lady.
She imagined he doted over Daphne when they were betrothed, sending her all sorts of trinkets and flowers.
She and Daphne shared small talk while they ate.
What was needed to do before the next ball and when her gowns would be ready from the modiste.
They were so immersed in their conversation, both had forgotten Arthur was still sitting, reading his newspapers until they heard the sound of his chair scraping back.
“If you ladies will excuse me, I have my correspondence waiting and after that I’ll go to Parliament.”
“Very well. Is today the vote?”
Arthur nodded. “Yes, it is. At least I hope it is.”
Daphne smiled as her husband kissed her on the cheek. “Have a good day.”
“You and Harriet have a good day as well,” Arthur replied.
Both women watched Arthur as he departed the room. Harriet poured another cup of tea for herself and offered the pot to Daphne.
“Would you like to show me the cards and everything that’s arrived?” Harriet asked. “That would be wonderful. You can help remind me who is who in case I’ve forgotten.”
“If I were you, I’d bring a notebook to write in because I’ll also tell you whether they are worth your time,” Daphne said.
“Good idea.” Harriet rose from her chair after her last swallow of tea. “I’ll go find one now. I’ll meet you back here?”
“Yes.”
Harriet hurried across the floor and up the stairs to her room where she immediately went to the small writing desk. On top were three small notebooks, one of which was unused. It was perfect. Finding a pencil she quickly returned to Daphne’s side.
They walked to the first of two vases. Harriet read the cards and Daphne explained who they were.
Next they moved on to the drawing room where a book of poetry sat on the table with a card placed neatly like a bookmark.
Sitting next to it was a box of fine chocolates along with a brand-new novel by an author she hadn’t heard of before.
She showed it to Daphne, hoping she might know.
She didn’t, so for now the book would remain a mystery.
Her eyes scanned the calling card left by the final sender, but neither she nor Daphne knew the name.
“Does this mean I’m going to have callers today?” Harriet asked.
“It is very possible,” Daphne replied. “But if you don’t, it’s not anything to worry about. Sometimes they will wait until they see you at the next ball.”
“So this is like a tease, letting me know I caught their attention?”
Daphne smiled and nodded her head. “That’s a very good way of looking at it. I would have never thought of that.”
“I actually don’t mind if no one comes. After last night, I’m afraid it’ll be confusing or overwhelming,” Harriet said.
“You did quite well last night. Give credit where credit is due. You obviously made an impression on quite a few young men.”
“Do you know how hard it was to talk with any of those young men? Luckily the majority of the dances were lively and involved more than one partner.”
“The important thing is you made an impression. Things will get easier with each soiree you attend. Trust me on that,” Daphne said.
They were interrupted by the sound of Daphne’s beloved macaw, Sammy. He’d gotten down off his perch and was walking in their direction. One couldn’t help but smile when they saw Sammy. He was quite a character.
“Sammy dance,” he squawked.
“Show us how you dance, Sammy,” Daphne replied.
Wings began flapping. The parrot moved his head as though to some imaginary music in his mind. He alternated feet, hopping about, and made quite a display.
“Very good, Sammy,” Daphne praised him.
“He’s quite the display, isn’t he?” Harriet said watching the macaw turn in a circle, bobbing his head around.
“That he is. He loves being the center of attention.”
“No one taught him how to do this?” Harriet asked.
“That’s all Sam,” Daphne replied. “You know, he would be perfect to have around when men start to call on you.”
“You’re right. Sam would divert attention from me.”
“He would. Now let’s see where we’ve been invited.”
Daphne picked up a small stack of obvious invitations. She dropped them in the chair where she had been sitting. She walked up to the parrot and lowered her arm. “Come, let’s go back to your perch for a while.”
“No,” Sam said.
“Jump on my arm. As soon as Harriet and I are finished you can get back down.”
“Sam want apple.”
“Only if you do as you’re told.”
The macaw reluctantly jumped up onto Daphne’s wrist. She walked over to the perch and placed him on the branch which had fresh fruit sliced and placed in a cup.
Harriet could hear Daphne talk lowly and gently to the bird before letting go of him. Not a noise to be heard other than Sammy chewing a piece of apple.
Picking up the small stack of invitations, Daphne sat down and looked quickly through them before opening the first. She set it aside and did so with every invitation until she reached the last one.
She picked one up and gave Harriet some background for the person giving the ball and if it would be beneficial for Harriet to attend.
They were discussing the final one when the butler opened the door.
“I am sorry to interrupt, Your Grace, but Lady Churchill has a caller.” He handed Harriet the calling card.
She studied it for a moment before giving it to Daphne.
She was unsure who this was. Daphne nodded her head in turn. She recognized the name.
“Would you like to receive him? It would be perfect practice for you.”
“You’re right. I’ll see him.”
Daphne in turn nodded to the butler and gave him instructions to bring the caller to the drawing room. The butler left and Daphne retreated nearer to the parrot. “You’ll be fine and I’m right here if you need me for anything.”
Moments later the butler announced the caller’s name. “Lord Alexander.”
Harriet didn’t recognize the name but immediately knew the man. She had danced with him, which had not impressed her. She was standing and nodded her head as he took her hand in his. “Lord Alexander, this is indeed a pleasure.”
He handed her a box of chocolates. “These are for you.”
“Thank you but you really didn’t have to,” she replied. “Please sit.”
He sat down in a chair across from her. The conversation wasn’t forced, but Harriet was sure he wasn’t ready to call on a lady who was merely a stranger to him.
“Lady Harriet, did you enjoy your time at the ball last night?”
“Yes, I did. There was a nice mixture of people attending I thought.”
“I thought so too. I knew a great number of people attending,” he replied.
Harriet studied him for a moment. He had dark-brown hair. He wasn’t a handsome man but appeared to be confident in his own skin. She recalled him but the dance they shared was a country reel and didn’t leave time for talking. “Like I said there was a nice mixture of people in attendance.”
“Your parents were not in attendance?”
How would he know if they were or not? Might just be an attempt to make conversation. “No, they were not. They are away at the moment. The duke is my cousin and agreed to get me through the season.”
“That is very noble of them,” he replied. “I understand the duke is a distinguished member of Parliament.”
“He is,” Harriet said with pride.
“I’m the second son, so I’ll never get the honor.”
“Oh? What will you do?’
“My father owns a coal mining business in the north. He wants me to gain experience and sees that as a way of doing it.”
“You won’t be working inside the mine, will you? I understand it’s a filthy, dangerous job.”
He shook his head and gave her a lopsided grin. “You would be right. I’m going to oversee an expansion of the operation on behalf of my father.”
“I’m sure you’ll do just fine.”
“Thank you. I’m sure my Oxford education won’t go to waste.”
He was boasting and the conversation was turning to him and she hated when that happened. She glanced over at Daphne who was pretending to read a book. It was time for him to go. She wasn’t impressed either.
“Thank you for taking the time out of your busy schedule to call on me. I’m sure we’ll see each other again before your journey to the north.
“The honor is mine. I don’t leave for another month, so I feel confident we’ll see each other another time.”
“My lord,” she murmured. He was even dragging a polite good-bye out. She couldn’t imagine herself with this man unless there was another side to his personality. If he were looking for a wife to take with him, it wasn’t going to be her.
Once her guest left, she heard Daphne giggling in the distance. “It’s not funny, Daphne. I thought he’d never leave. Conversation with him was excruciating, and this comes from me.”
“He wants a wife. One he can control. You don’t need his type,” Daphne said.
“Have you decided the next ball?”
“I’m going to reply to them all. Of all these there’s one I don’t wish to attend, and it falls on the same night as the Duke of Northumberland’s ball.”
“Sounds like we’re not going to be spending many evenings at home,” Harriet replied.
“There is an early evening musicale at Baron Whitehead’s. A more intimate setting to meet people. He always has some wonderfully talented musicians.”
“That will be different so long as the musicians are talented.”
“Oh yes, I’ve been to some where it’s their daughters, or nieces they believe are the most talented. And they’re anything but.”
Harriet knew all too well about that. Her own mother tried a couple times to have her play piano and sing during teas she would hold.
It was the worst experience. She finally had to refuse; her mother didn’t listen though and tried to embarrass her into playing.
Harriet’s resolve was to sneak out of the room and hide until the guests had gone.
That’s when she began to challenge her mother’s bullying.