Chapter 3
“Nothing ever becomes real ‘til it is experienced.” – John Keats
Charlotte hurried forward to greet Ursula, beaming.
“There you are! I am positively delighted you could come after all. Mama and Papa will be pleased to see you.”
Ursula gave a wry smile. “As if my mother would allow me to miss a party. Not to mention I would never dare miss your first ball of the Season.”
Charlotte chuckled. “I’m overjoyed you’re here. Mama is convinced I’m going to meet my future husband here. That’s why she insisted I wear this. I look like a debutante, which I am not.”
She plucked at the frothy white skirts of her gown, smiling helplessly. This Season was Charlotte’s third, which probably contributed to her parents’ desperation to have her wedded off.
At her side, Mama nudged Ursula’s elbow pointedly. “Come, Ursula.”
“I had better go in,” Ursula said, a little apologetically. “Have you many more guests to greet?”
As the hostess’ daughter, Charlotte of course had to wait by the door to receive her guests. She gave a sigh and peered down the drive at the long line of carriages waiting to reach the front steps.
“I might be a while.”
Ursula nodded sympathetically and moved on past her friend into the stifling heat of the ballroom.
Already, the place was packed to the rafters. The Winters were not titled people, but they were rich and well-bred enough, and one of the oldest families in London. That afforded them enough respect to host a ball like this and be sure that their invitations would be accepted.
The ball had not even started in earnest, yet Ursula found herself shouldering through the crush of people to reach the refreshment table.
Eyes lingered on her as she moved through the crowd. There were jealous, curious stares from women, and possessive glances from men. Lord Mullen beamed at her, lifting his glass of sherry, and Ursula tried to ignore him.
That evening she had chosen to wear a pale blue satin gown which she had matched with the itchiest and most uncomfortable pale blue gloves as the satin was course against her sensitive skin.
“Stop wriggling and fidgeting,” Mama whispered, taking Ursula’s elbow and steering her through the crowd.
“My gloves are uncomfortable.”
“I care not a whit. You’re the Diamond of the Season, so behave like one.
Ah, there is Georgie. You’ll do well to stay beside Georgie tonight.
She isn’t prettier than you are, and since she is fair and you are dark, you’ll complement each other nicely.
It’s time that you started receiving proposals. ”
Ursula clenched her jaw. “Proposals? I thought you wanted me to wed Lord Ashford.”
Mama tutted. “Pray, cease your impertinence, Ursula. And yes, while I do hope you’ll make a match with him, there’s no harm in keeping one’s options open, is there?”
Ursula said nothing. It seemed safer. Georgie floated towards them in a ruched pink gown and smiled sweetly.
“Lord Ashford is looking for you,” she said, almost immediately.
“Perfect timing. You can dance the first set with him,” Mama said at once. “It’s a minuet, I believe.”
“I… I didn’t think that my dance card…”
“Oh, forget that silly card. I already told Lord Ashford you’d keep the first dance for him. Ah, here he comes now.”
Ursula watched in resignation as the man himself weaved across the floor towards them, smiling confidently.
I don’t want to do this. I don’t want to dance with him. I am tired of being watched.
Then, out of the corner of her eye, a strange movement attracted her attention.
Of course, the ballroom was full of movement, with ladies and gentlemen jostling for space and pushing their way through the crowd to find a familiar face. Why had this movement caught her attention, then?
It was the man she’d met previously at the bookshop. The tall one, with the dark hair swept neatly back from a high forehead, his features sharp yet attractive.
His face had stuck in her mind, and even now Ursula found her chest tightening when she saw him again. He was looking at her, too.
It means nothing. It simply means that he’s handsome. You’ve met handsome men before. Don’t be a fool. Don’t throw away your future.
Then the crowd shifted, blocking the man from her view, and Ursula could breathe again, composing herself just in time for Lord Ashford’s arrival.
“Lady Ursula,” he murmured, bending to kiss her gloved hand. “You look radiant this evening.”
She smiled as demurely as possible. Ladies never accepted a compliment eagerly, but neither did they refuse it.
Refusing compliments or anything, really tended to annoy gentlemen.
That was one of the first lessons Ursula had learned from Mama don’t be petulant.
Never be greedy. Accept what you’re given and no more. No more, and no less. Be content.
“Now,” he said briskly, straightening up. “The minuet?”
The music was just beginning, and couples were taking their places on the dance floor.
Ursula did not respond, but no response, it seemed, was necessary.
Lord Ashford took her hand and led her onto the dance floor.
Glancing over her shoulder, Ursula saw Mama standing there, beaming with pride.
Georgie stood beside her aunt, with an impassive expression etched on her face.
It struck Ursula then that Georgie did not have a partner. The two girls were the same age, but this was Georgie’s second Season. Her first Season had not been a successful one. There’d been no scandals, but no engagements, either.
At that moment the dance began, and Ursula carefully put all troublesome thoughts out of her mind, concentrating on her partner.
I suppose I will wed him, she thought, eyeing Lord Ashford’s face. He had a pleasant enough face, and his manners were likeable enough. I daresay I’ll be happy with him. I can learn to be content.
Life isn’t like the poems, after all. As Mama says, it’s best to temper one’s expectations.
I’ll be a duchess. It would be far more humiliating to return next Season, having been dubbed the Diamond of this Season without having made a match at all.
It would be the talk of every drawing-room Imagine. The scandal sheets would love it.
“You seem preoccupied,” Lord Ashford said, breaking into her thoughts. “Are you feeling unwell? Is it the heat?”
Ursula blinked, coming back to herself. “N-No, nothing like that. I do beg your pardon.”
He smiled tightly. “Think nothing of it. You aren’t given to daydreaming, are you, Lady Ursula? I find it a most displeasing trait in a lady.”
She clenched her jaw. “No, of course not.”
“Wonderful! I am delighted to hear it.”
They didn’t talk for the rest of the dance. When at last it ended, Ursula found herself breathless and flushed. The other dancers stood around clapping, laughing and smiling at their partners. Ursula made a neat curtsey to Lord Ashford, who responded with a stiff bow.
She had not danced her best. Once or twice, Ursula was conscious of having almost missed a step. Judging by the frown between Lord Ashford’s brows, he had noticed it. It would be a terrible embarrassment to make a mistake in a dance, especially for the Diamond and a duke’s son.
“Ah, your cousin is coming to claim you, it seems,” Lord Ashford said smoothly.
Glancing over her shoulder, Ursula saw that Georgie was indeed approaching her, gliding across the emptying dance floor. Several gentlemen eyed her appreciatively as she went by.
Among them was Sir Roderick Black, the rake who’d had the audacity to leave his card and some flowers for Ursula. His gaze followed Georgie, and he pursed his lips. Perhaps conscious of his stare, Georgie glanced over at him, and her eyebrows flickered.
Then the moment was gone, and Sir Roderick thankfully melted into the crowd.
Georgie approached Ursula and Lord Ashford with a smile.
“I wonder, Ursula, if you’d step out into the gardens with me? I’m so very hot, I need to take some air, and of course it wouldn’t be proper to go alone.”
“Of course, Georgie. I’ll come at once. Do excuse me, Lord Ashford.”
Lord Ashford bowed. “Naturally. You may reserve another dance of your choice for me, Lady Ursula. I shan’t be dancing again except with you, so if you could come and find me when our dance begins, and I shall oblige you.”
Ursula missed a beat. How does the man manage to make it sound as if he is doing me a favour by dancing with me?
“As you wish,” she said aloud, hoping that she sounded properly gracious. “Come, Georgie.”
The two ladies pushed and shoved their way across the floor.
The heat was even more intense than before, and already Ursula could feel sweat drying between her skin and the tight, satin dress she wore.
The crowd around the refreshment table was impenetrable, with each lady and gentleman fighting to secure themselves a cool drink before the next dance began.
At the side of the ballroom, the glass doors opening onto the terrace were flung wide, allowing gusts of cool air to enter.
However, the pleasing draught did not make its way deep into the crowd.
“Perhaps we should find Charlotte, if we’re going to wander in the gardens,” Ursula suggested. “The three of us could take the air.”
Georgie clicked her tongue. “We cannot drag Charlotte away from her own ball, silly. Mr. and Mrs. Winter have thrown this party for her, after all. She might secure a husband for herself tonight.”
“If she wants one,” Ursula pointed out.
“Every woman wants a husband,” Georgie responded bluntly, not turning around. “I did see her dancing with Lord Hartwell. It wouldn’t be an excellent match, and he is considered rather odd, but at least she’d be a proper lady.”
At long last, they managed to stumble out onto the paved terrace beyond the doors. Ursula stopped, breathing in deeply, and tilted back her head. Closing her eyes, she let the cool night air wash over her heated skin.
“That is delightful,” she murmured.
When she opened her eyes again, Georgie was staring at her strangely. When their gazes met, a smile broke out on her cousin’s face.
“Come, let’s walk along that path down there. I’m in need of proper fresh air, and it’s too noisy here.” Georgie said, pointing towards a narrow path which led into a dense section of undergrowth.
Ursula frowned. The path was dimly lit, with torches set at intervals, but trees and undergrowth pressed in tightly around it.
It would be a very secluded walk. Aside from this, guests were not really meant to go wandering about in the gardens.
The terrace doors had been opened out of necessity, and already several guests were cooling themselves outside, but nobody had ventured into the dark gardens beyond.
“Is it wise?” Ursula said at last. “It’s so dark down there. We could trip, perhaps twist an ankle… you might catch your gown on a branch and tear it.”
Generally, the threat of damaging one of her dresses was enough to put Georgie off any activity.
Not today, it seemed. She only smiled and took Ursula’s hand.
“You are so very silly, cousin. Well, if you don’t wish to come, I shall go alone.”
Ursula sighed. “Of course you can’t go alone. It wouldn’t be proper. I’ll come with you, then. Just a short walk, then we’ll return to the terrace.”
Georgie nodded happily, her face brightening.
They descended the stone steps onto a wide gravel walkway, and Georgie led the way down the narrower path.
Almost immediately the air cooled even further, the scent of roses and greenery hanging in the air. The path was too narrow to walk abreast, so Georgie walked in front and Ursula followed.
A prickling feeling crept over Ursula’s skin. She tried to tell herself it was because she had cooled down too quickly, but somehow that didn’t seem right. A twig cracked somewhere in the undergrowth, and she flinched, spinning around.
“Georgie, did you hear that?”
“Hear what?”
Ursula bit her lip. “Nothing, I’m just… just a little unsettled.”
Abruptly, Georgie stopped, stifling a gasp. “Good gracious! I am clearly not in possession of my senses! What a fool I am!”
She turned around, her eyes wide and anguished. “I have left my dance card inside.”
Ursula chuckled. “Do you intend to waltz out here, cousin?”
She shook her head. “No, of course not, but I’m afraid it’ll get lost and thrown away. I have several engagements that I don’t wish to forget. Wait here, Ursula, I shall go in and fetch it.”
“Well, I’ll come with you.”
“No, better stay here. If we both go in, we’ll get separated and never get out again,” Georgie grimaced. “Aunt Cynthia won’t be pleased that you left the ballroom so early.”
Ursula’s heart sank at that. Mama certainly would not be pleased to learn that her daughter had disappeared into the gardens when she could be doing something more useful, like spending time with Lord Ashford. Or cultivating her other marital options.
“Very well, then,” Ursula said at last.
“I’ll only be a moment!” Georgie called, darting back they had had come. Ursula watched her disappear towards the distant house, running across a candlelit lawn.
Folding her arms tight across her chest, Ursula swallowed down a sudden, ridiculous pang of nerves.
What on earth is wrong with me? Would I rather be in stuck in that over packed ballroom, fending off men like Lord Mullen in favour of men like Lord Ashford? Heavens, I am silly.
Georgie darted up the stone steps and vanished into the ballroom.
At that instant, the undergrowth began to rustle. Before Ursula could say or do anything, a tall figure stepped out of the trees and onto the path in front of her. He was now standing between her and the distant house.
Ursula felt as though her feet had frozen to the rough gravel path.
“Sir,” she gasped. “I… Who are you?”
The man chuckled, low in his throat. “You don’t recall me? You never did respond to my card, Lady Ursula.”
A cold sensation trickled along her spine.
“Sir Roderick Black,” Ursula murmured, curling her fingers into fists at her side. “What on earth are you doing out here?”
“That,” the man said, taking a deliberate step towards her, “is a very good question, my dear.”