Chapter 15 #2
Juniper exhaled sharply. “Securing partners for one’s female relatives is hardly unusual, but one generally does not announce to the young lady that one has done so.
” With a commiserating glance at Emily, she added, “And we like to think we are sought after for our own merits. Not our relatives’ meddling. ”
Emily folded her arms. “Precisely. I should like my partners to enjoy my company—not merely your friendship.” It was absurd, really, that the only gentleman she wished to see was the one she worried would not seek her out. Her stomach tightened at the thought of it.
Jack looked between the two women. Juniper nodded pointedly. He sighed. “Very well. I made a poor decision. Forgive me. Truly, Emily, I wanted you to enjoy as many dances as you please. You loved dancing once. I remember.”
That wistful thought softened her irritation with her brother.
After Jack joined the military, he returned home perhaps once a year, usually to fulfill family obligations.
But the winter before their elevation, he had taken a week’s leave from his post as a footman and attended a country dance with the family.
She had not lacked partners that night—her brothers’ friends, local gentlemen, all were happy to take a turn with her.
She had laughed nearly the whole night. The contrast of those simpler evenings with the London balls was extreme.
This York assembly, however, was entirely different from both.
“Unfortunately,” she said quietly, “I am not as confident here. Everyone looks so resplendent. I hope I remember the steps well enough not to disgrace myself.”
“You will be wonderful,” Juniper assured her, as though bolstering Emily for an ordeal. “More than wonderful. By the end of the evening, I daresay many here will speak of your grace.”
Emily laughed. “I would rather they did not speak of me at all—unless to merely say that I attended and had a pleasant time.”
Juniper gave Jack a pointed look. “Do you hear her? She has no desire to stand out.”
Jack—who had spent years in service, accustomed to the edges of grand rooms—only shrugged. “Sensible, if you ask me. Who wishes to be the center of a crowd’s notice?”
“Exactly.” Emily gestured with a flick of her fingers at him. “If Jack may stand at the periphery and enjoy himself, why should I not find my own wall to prop up?”
“You will not be on the periphery,” Juniper said, tone brooking no argument. “You will be dancing.”
Jack offered each lady an arm. “Come—let us make a circuit of the room and determine where we would most like to be. Walls or no walls.”
They set off together. Jack leaned slightly toward Emily. “I have it on good authority that Lord Hartwell intends to ask you for at least two sets.”
“Two?” she whispered. “Jack!”
Two sets with Lord Hartwell—and yet the thought brought none of the flutter she felt wondering whether Mr. Eastwood might claim even a single dance.
“The ball will last into the early hours,” he reminded her. “Do not be surprised if he claims the supper dance.”
Emily winced but quickly arranged her features into polite serenity.
“If he asks, I will accept.” That was the bargain every lady made when coming to a ball.
To deny a dance with one gentleman meant forgoing that pleasure the rest of the evening.
Unless one was clever enough to work around that social constraint.
Something she wasn’t equal to this evening.
No sign of Lord Hartwell’s party caught her eye yet.
Truly, she needed to take more control of her thoughts. From the moment she had entered the assembly rooms, her gaze had searched for one man alone: Mr. Lyness Eastwood.
Would he still think of the way their hands had fit together the day before?
Had it meant anything to him? Would he ask her to dance?
She dearly hoped so. And if he did not, she would find some graceful way to hint that he ought.
One set with him—two, if she were fortunate—would make the anxiety about attending, would make even the crowded evening, more than worth the effort.
“Oh! Lady Emily!” called a familiar voice. Miss Nelson and her twin sister, Miss Theodora, approached in gowns of deep blue and green, both looking thoroughly pleased with themselves.
“Is this not marvelous?” Miss Nelson asked. “The splendor of the room cannot be overstated.”
“And the evening is perfect,” Miss Theodora added. “Not too warm, and the air is circulating nicely. I have very high hopes for tonight.”
“Have you seen Mr. Holly?” Miss Nelson went on. “He has a cousin with him this evening I have not met yet. I simply must determine whether he is worth flirting with.”
Emily gasped softly, glancing toward Jack, who appeared entirely unmoved by such candid scheming.
“Do not worry after him,” Juniper said, eyebrows raised and a smirk playing upon her lips. “My husband is well acquainted with the mischief young ladies whisper before a ball.”
“Indeed,” Jack agreed without so much as a flicker of humor. “But to put all of you at ease, I shall leave you ladies to your private conversation.” He bowed and withdrew.
“Oh, my lady,” sighed Miss Theodora, “you have such a wonderful husband. I hope I find one exactly the same.”
“You think my brother wonderful?” Emily asked, unable to hide the surprise in her tone. “What convinces you of that?” She liked him well enough, of course, and she rejoiced that Juniper did, too. But Jack was so somber, and determined to see the danger in every situation.
Miss Theodora blushed prettily. “Well, he is handsome, is he not? And so polite. And though reserved, he observes everything. I always feel he is quietly attentive.”
“As do I,” her sister agreed. “One should hope for a handsome, attentive, and silent husband.”
All four ladies laughed softly, Juniper included.
“I assure you,” she said, “he speaks quite enough at home. But the true secret to a happy marriage—the sort that lasts beyond courtship—is finding a gentleman who stirs not only your heart but your mind. Jack and I speak of books, nature, politics, and history. I am fortunate he appreciates my intelligence as well as my domestic accomplishments.”
“Indeed,” said Miss Nelson, “one might say a woman’s intellect is her finest accomplishment.”
Before Emily responded, a movement at the entrance caught her eye. The baron had arrived with his mother, Lady Hartwell, on his arm. He did not waste time in approaching their group, nodding to acquaintances he passed until he stood before them.
Where was Lyness Eastwood? Why was he not in company with his mother and brother?
“Good evening,” he said, bowing deeply. “We have not missed the opening set, I hope.”
“One is never late,” Lady Hartwell chided gently, “so long as one arrives before the supper dance.”
Juniper tilted her head. “Or perhaps a gentleman is only late if he arrives after all the eligible ladies have already secured partners for it.”
Emily restrained herself from casting a glare at her sister-in-law.
“An excellent point,” Lady Hartwell agreed. “Dancing—and discussing the dancers—is the entire purpose of the evening. I hope you young ladies give us something delightful to gossip about over tea tomorrow.”
Everyone laughed except Emily. She had endured enough gossip in London to last her a lifetime. She simply needed to make it through this evening without providing the rumor mill anything new.
“My lord,” she said, picking her words with care. “I understand my brother has been arranging partners for me. I hope he did not coerce you into asking.”
A flicker of surprise lifted his brows. “I assure you, my lady, there was no coercion. I was present when your brother mentioned that he hoped you would enjoy a full evening of dancing. Several gentlemen assured him you would not lack for partners. He was thoughtful—not intrusive.”
“That does sound rather less dreadful than he made it seem,” Emily admitted. “Very well. I shall forgive him.”
Juniper relaxed somewhat, too. “I am pleased to hear my husband has greater tact than he lead us to believe. You have defended his honor, my lord.”
Roman’s lips curved, never quite into a full smile, but nearly so. Why was it that he never truly smiled? What lay behind that carefully controlled composure she had come to expect from him?
It occurred to her that if he continued in an earnest courtship, if it concluded the way a courtship ought, then she would one day know.
The thought did not soothe her in the least.
“Oh, there is my friend, Mrs. Pew. If you will excuse me, Roman. Ladies. I hope all of you enjoy the evening.” Lady Hartwell nodded graciously to them before snapping her fan open and gliding away with an elegance that Emily could not help envying.
Lord Hartwell watched his mother with concern in his expression.
“Is everything all right, Lord Hartwell?” she asked, keeping her voice quieter as the Nelson sisters engaged someone who had drifted near in a conversation. Juniper had stepped aside, to study a flower arrangement along the wall, giving Emily and Lord Hartwell some semblance of privacy.
“Yes, of course,” he said, his features smoothing back into his usual pleasantly neutral expression.
“My lady,” he continued, “I hope you will not mind if I secure your supper dance now, before another gentleman claims it. It would be my honor to enjoy your company for both the waltz and the evening meal.”
Emily inclined her head. “The supper dance is yours, my lord.”
His eyes warmed. “Thank you. And having secured your hand for one dance, I hope you will allow me another request. The reel is one of my favorites. I should enjoy the second reel more so with you as my partner.”
“How gracious of you,” she replied, keeping her tone even. “Yes, of course.”
“Excellent.” He started to take his leave. “Then I look forward to claiming your hand for that dance.” He took a step back, ready to leave her side, his gaze already to where his mother stood among several other matrons.