Chapter 4
Helena looked at Florence with a sympathetic smile on her face. “Are you quite all right?”
She managed a rueful smile. “It looks quite dreadful, does it not?”
“No, it is not all that bad.” The catch in Helena’s voice told Florence that she was not being entirely truthful, although Florence appreciated her cousin’s support. “Your maid has done the best she could in covering it, I can see that.”
“Unfortunately, it does not take the pain away.” Florence shivered as the carriage continued through London, the bruise on her head aching gently, reminding her of her foolish actions the previous evening. “Goodness, it is very cold indeed today!”
“But we shall be at the soiree very soon,” Helena reminded her, although she shivered visibly also. “Lord and Lady Wessex are sure to have a roaring fire in the drawing room, and we shall be quite contented there.”
This brought Florence a little relief, although the thought of setting foot into another social gathering after the way she had injured Lord Chester at the ball brought her a fresh wave of anxiety.
“You will be quite all right,” Helena assured her, seeming to be able to read all that Florence was thinking. “I know that you will feel embarrassed and a little upset, but there is no need to be so. Not everyone will have heard of what happened, I promise you.”
Florence let out a slow breath as a wave of mortification washed over her. “I should not have dropped my dance card.”
“Oh, that was quite all right,” Helena replied, with a quiet chuckle. “What you should not have done was bent down to pick it up! That is a duty for a gentleman, and I know Lord Chester would have done such a thing, had you given him opportunity.”
Heat crawled up into Florence’s neck. “He was very good about it, but I am very sure I will see him with a bruise on his forehead this evening.”
“You did not mean to do such a thing.”
“Just as I have never meant to do anything foolish,” Florence sighed, clasping her hands tightly together, the cold still seeping in through her fur-lined muff. “I become so very flustered and then… well, I do something ridiculous like that.”
Helena shook her head. “It was not ridiculous. Only an accident.”
“At least my mother was not present to see it.”
“And she is not here this evening.” Helena, who had spent at least half an hour convincing Lady Grangemouth that Florence would be much better suited attending this afternoon's soiree than walking through Hyde Park in the wintertime, grinned as Florence laughed softly. “That must bring you some relief.”
“Mayhap it shall.” The carriage drew to a stop, and Florence, her heart beginning to quicken, looked out of the window to the front of the townhouse. “I do hope the soiree is not overly busy. I always find it a little more difficult when there are so many gentlemen and ladies that I do not know.”
Helena patted her hand and then climbed out of the carriage, with Florence following after.
She swallowed at the tightness beginning to close up her throat, forcing it down.
Surely this evening, she would do nothing to embarrass herself?
There would be no dancing, so she would not forget her steps or step on a gentleman’s foot.
There would be no prolonged conversations, not if she did not want to, for it would be easy enough to extract oneself from a group of gentlemen or ladies and move to another part of the house.
There would not be the requirement for her to sing or to play the piano forte, for there would be many others well able to do such a thing, she was sure.
So what, therefore, did she have to be worried about?
“You look quite terrified, but we cannot stand out in the cold,” Helena told her briskly. “Come along. Remember that I am here with you… and that your mother is not!”
That brought a hint of a smile to Florence’s face as she nodded, taking Helena’s arm and stepping up towards the front of the house.
“There now, you see? It is not as dreadful as all that, is it?”
Florence looked all around the room as she took in the ivy wreaths, the candle light and the ribbons that hung in beautiful strands all around them. “It is certainly beautiful,” she said, as her cousin nodded. “And there are not as many guests as I had expected.”
“That is because it is the little Season and there are plenty of gentlemen and ladies who are not present in London,” Helena reminded her.
“I must say, I think I prefer the little Season, however. There is something so lovely about the mistletoe and the holly and the wonderful scents that fill the air.”
This made Florence smile, chasing back the nervousness that still threatened to overwhelm her. “That much is true, I will admit. I have not been in London during the festive Season before.”
“I was, only once.” Helena, her arm still looped through Florence’s, began to meander around the drawing room.
“My eldest sister was desperate to return to London one year, because a gentleman who had shown an interest in her – a gentleman who had been forced to return home unexpectedly – had every intention of returning to London during the winter.”
“Oh?”
Helena smiled. “They fell quite in love and have been wed for five years now.”
A small sigh escaped Florence. “That is quite lovely.”
Her friend tipped her head, a question in her eyes. “Do you wish to marry for love, Florence?”
That question made Florence laugh. “My dear friend, of course I do not! You know as well as I that the only attention I have garnered comes from my clumsiness or my inelegance. I am quite sure I will never have a gentleman fall in love with me. I will be fortunate indeed if an upstanding fellow thinks me a suitable match – and even that is something I believe to be quite doubtful!”
Helena did not smile. Instead, a frown sent a line between her eyebrows. “I think you are much too critical of yourself, Florence. You may lack a little poise, but that comes from your worry. There is no reason for you not to consider love a prospect.”
In her mind, Florence dismissed the idea, although she thanked Helena for her encouragement. They continued to walk around the room in contemplative silence, only for a gentleman to catch Florence’s attention.
She scowled.
“There is that gentleman from last evening.” She nudged Helena lightly, watching Lord Applegate as he walked purposefully into the room. “I confess, I do not think well of Lord Applegate. The way he walked through us when we were speaking together seemed to me to speak of arrogance and impatience.”
“I quite agree.” Helena’s lip curled. “My husband does not think well of him either. He said that Lord Applegate made it quite clear he disagreed with Wickton’s decision to let Prudence decide for herself which gentleman she will marry.
” She shook her head. “Besides which, the way that he walked from us all when the dance cards were being signed was very disagreeable indeed. He ought to have asked both you and Lady Prudence to dance, just as Lord Chester and Lord Stirling did.”
“Although I am very glad indeed that I did not have to dance with him,” Florence replied, lowering her voice as the gentleman drew near. “I am quite sure I would have been dreadfully anxious indeed, given his superior look and dismissive manner.”
Lord Applegate, as if he had heard them speak and knew he was being discussed, caught Florence’s gaze, which she dropped quickly. Heat tore into her face as she kept her eyes down low, her head bowed, and her shoulders rounding.
“Whatever is the matter?” Helena grasped Florence’s hand, sounding concerned. “Do you feel unwell?”
Florence shook her head, glancing to her left and seeing Lord Applegate nearby. “I am quite all right.”
“Are you unwell, Lady Florence?”
Much to her embarrassment, Lord Applegate came towards them both, evidently having overheard Helena speak. Her mouth went dry, and she dropped her gaze again, her heart thumping wildly at the gentleman’s approach.
“She is quite all right, Lord Applegate.” Helena spoke for her as Florence tried to nod, feeling her whole body tense at his nearness. She had already embarrassed herself once in front of him and certainly did not want to do the same thing again!
“Yes, I am quite well.” Her voice was a squeak, her throat feeling scratchy and hot. “Thank you for your concern.” Managing to catch his gaze, she tried to smile, but her lips refused to move from their flat position.
“I see. I thought that the injury to your head from last evening might have been causing you some pain.”
Florence closed her eyes and swallowed thickly, wondering why Lord Applegate seemed to think it a wise idea to remind her of her clumsiness the previous evening.
“You are most kind to be so concerned.” Helena cleared her throat lightly and took Florence’s arm again. “We are just about to make our way around the room again, Lord Applegate. I hope you will not think us rude to step away so soon after you have joined our conversation?”
Without giving the gentleman a chance to respond, Helena began to walk forward, and Florence, who had not quite pulled herself out of her own embarrassment, was tugged after her. She stumbled, her feet feeling heavy and weighted, only for Lord Applegate to catch her arm.
Her face aflame, Florence took her arm from Helena’s, aware that she had not only embarrassed herself yet again but would have to now thank Lord Applegate for his aid.
How little he must think of her! “My sincere apologies, Lord Applegate,” she said, her voice only a little louder than a whisper, such was her shame.
“Thank you for catching my arm as you did. I did not expect Lady Wickton to walk away so quickly.”
The gentleman’s eyes caught hers, a frown putting shadows into his eyes. He said nothing, taking her in, and the weight upon Florence’s shoulders grew so great, she wanted to sink into the floor and disappear from his sight.
“Applegate! There you are!”
An unexpected interruption made her not only catch her breath but step back as a young lady with a warm smile and brightness in her green eyes rushed across the room towards Lord Applegate.
Her eyes turned to the gentleman himself, seeing his eyebrows throw themselves upwards.
Clearly, he had been taken aback by this unexpected arrival, whoever she was.
“What… whatever are you doing here?”
The composed, staid, and unsmiling gentleman dissolved into a stammering, unsettled fellow who not only pulled away from the lady but swept one hand over his forehead as he did so, his eyes flared.
“I did not ask you to come,” he continued, speaking with a growing harshness in his voice. “I cannot imagine what –”
“And here I thought you would be pleased to see me! My dear husband thought it would be a marvelous idea to come to London for the festive period, and I –”
“Your husband thought?” Lord Applegate’s tone had darkened considerably. “I hardly believe that, Emily. You convinced him, did you not?”
The lady shrugged, and Florence glanced at Helena, thinking that it would be best for them to move away from this discussion.
They were not a part of it, and she felt the awkward strain beginning to pull at her heart.
Helena, however, was staring in rapt attention at the unfolding conversation, clearly quite unwilling to remove herself from their position.
The lady tilted her head. “You surprise me,” she said, with a softness to her tone that spoke of hurt. “Do you truly think so little of me?”
“I know full well what you are like!” Lord Applegate threw up his hands and, in doing so, struck Florence across the face with the back of his hand, having been standing so near to her.
Florence reeled back, her feet stumbling as Helena caught her, her arm going quickly around Florence’s shoulders so that she might steady her.
Florence’s eyes were burning, her face stinging as she pressed one hand to her cheek, humiliated by what had taken place.
She had been at fault, no doubt, by not stepping further away from the gentleman.
“Oh, goodness!” The young lady whom Florence had not yet been introduced quickly stepped forward as Lord Applegate only stood there, his brow furrowed. “Are you quite all right?”
“I – I must excuse myself.” Unable to even raise her eyes towards Lord Applegate, Florence reached for Helena, who quickly took her arm. “Do forgive me.”
Without so much as a backwards glance, she turned hastily and walked away with Helena right beside her. From behind them, she could hear the lady speaking fervently to Lord Applegate, but she gave it no consideration, quite sure that Lord Applegate would be blaming her for what had happened.
“That was not your fault,” Helena murmured, leading her through the drawing room and into the hallway.
“Lord Applegate should have been taking more care as to where he stood and to his actions.” Looking at Florence, she sighed.
“I am sorry that happened to you. We will go to a quiet parlor and find a cool compress.”
“I thank you.” Hearing her voice thin and knowing she was close to tears, Florence said nothing more, concentrating on taking steadying breaths so that she would not lose her composure entirely.
Despite what her cousin said, Florence was convinced that the injury to her face had been entirely her own fault and Lord Appelgate’s silence had only confirmed that.
I am doomed to fail, she thought to herself, her heart aching with a fresh pain. No matter what I do, even if I am simply standing in conversation, something always happens to shame me… and I cannot seem to stop it.