Chapter Two
Frances stood by the refreshment table and sipped her third glass of lemonade, but she was quite certain no one paid her enough attention to notice such details.
Her mother’s old gown was too large at the bust, but she’d pinned it and added a bit of ribbon so it not only fit, but was quite fetching, if she did say so herself.
The blue silk was faded, but it wasn’t like Frances wanted to stand out in the bright color it had once been. The muted version suited her perfectly.
“Mrs. Sampson is losing her touch. There are less than a dozen eligible gentlemen in attendance,” Mama mused as she came up beside Frances, scouring the room.
“Will Daisy be entertaining Mr. Brooks then?”
Daisy was on the dance floor and had so far managed to be whisked away every time he approached her.
“I’m not ready to admit defeat just yet,” her mother argued. “Especially not when she’s dancing with a baron.”
“She does look breathtaking in that dress.”
“Like a baroness,” her mother agreed. “Frances, it’s unladylike to slouch.”
“Yes, Mama.”
Frances straightened her back, bringing her to her mother’s height, which Mrs. Plimpton hadn’t been expecting, as she looked down to make sure Frances was wearing nothing more than flat slippers.
“Where is your father?”
“Playing cards, I believe.”
“He should be here with us.”
“He did come tonight, and we got the good carriage,” Frances said soothingly.
“Miss Plimpton?”
Frances turned and found Mr. Brooks in a bow, his eyes darting to Daisy dancing with the baron before falling back on her.
“Mr. Brooks, a pleasure to see you this evening. How are you enjoying the music?”
“It is lovely.” He smiled before turning to her mother. “Mrs. Plimpton,” he acknowledged.
“Mr. Brooks, how nice to see you again so soon.”
“The pleasure is mine, I assure you.”
“As you can see, my Daisy is otherwise engaged, and I believe her next set is taken, but I’m sure she can find a slot for you on her dance card once she returns.”
“Perhaps,” he agreed, his shoulders sagging at the news, before he turned to Frances. “Miss Plimpton, would you be so inclined? While we wait?”
“I would be—” Frances stammered, blinking more than once to make sure Mr. Brooks was truly asking her to dance.
“That’s so kind of you to offer, but Frances must decline,” Mama cut her off.
“Are you feeling unwell?” Mr. Brooks looked at Frances with concern.
“I’m…” Mama shot her a look that warned her to consider her next words carefully.
Frances turned to see how lit the room was, how close the dancers were, then brought her hand to her thankfully still hidden temple and reluctantly said, “Yes, I’m afraid I have a bit of a headache.
I do hope you enjoy the rest of your evening. ”
“You as well,” he agreed, before Frances followed her mother to the corner of the room, where a dozen chairs were waiting for wallflowers and chaperones.
“Honestly, the nerve of that man. As if my daughters were interchangeable.”
“I believe he was trying to be kind. No one else asked me to dance.” Frances tried not to sound bitter, but she could count on a single hand how many times she’d ever danced at a ball.
“That may be, but it wouldn’t do to have one of your sister’s suitors appearing to give up on her. Even if it is the second son of a baron.”
“I hadn’t considered how it would look for Daisy,” Frances said slowly.
“That’s what mamas are for.” She smiled, and Frances smiled back, but it crumbled as she watched Mr. Brooks approach a young debutante who looked thrilled to accompany him. Frances assumed she would be equally enthralled if she were ever allowed to dance.
“I’m not late, am I?” Nathaniel asked, his carriage stopping in front of his maternal grandparents’ home just as his grandmother and cousin were walking out of it.
“What are you doing here?” Rebecca beamed when she spotted him.
“Escorting the lovely Miss Turner to the first ball of her very first season. I must say you are a vision.” His cousin’s dress was finer than anything he’d seen her wear before. He placed a kiss on her cheek. “You clearly take after Grandmama’s side of the family.”
“Flattery gets you everywhere, Nathaniel.” Grandmama raised her eyebrow.
“It was Lizzie’s, from her first season. I thought she looked like a princess in it.”
“As do you,” Nathaniel assured her. “But you shouldn’t have to wear her old dresses. I am sure I told you to get anything you wanted from the modiste for tonight.”
“This was what I wanted, truly,” she assured him with a slight twirl. “I’ve been dreaming of this dress for years.”
Upon closer inspection, the silver fabric seemed to have metallic threads running through it, catching the light and reflecting it so Rebecca sparkled.
“You look beautiful, and not just because of the dress.”
Rebecca blushed through one of her signature smiles. Nathaniel couldn’t remember the last time he’d smiled that brightly, but it was Rebecca’s natural state.
“You are welcome to join, of course, but I am happy to escort Rebecca this season,” he told his grandmother, who confirmed with Rebecca before retreating into the manor.
He would never want Rebecca to know how jealous he was that their grandmother could stay home, or that he’d have preferred to pour gin straight into his eyeballs than attend a single ball, let alone a season’s worth.
“Don’t be nervous,” he said, sensing Rebecca’s energy once they were in the carriage.
“I’m more excited. I used to stay up late so Lizzie could come home and tell me all about the dances and the dresses.”
Nathaniel sincerely doubted his sister ever fondly recalled dancing, but he supposed even complaints could be tempting if you weren’t allowed to attend.
“As long as the men there aren’t blind and have at least half a brain, you’ll be the belle of the ball.”
“I just hope I don’t trip.”
“Then don’t try to lead,” he teased, but it was a genuine concern.
Not that she was bossy, but she was proficient on both sides, and he himself had fumbled a step or two back when such things still made him nervous.
She looked stricken, so he added, “I’ve never seen you miss a step.
And if he’s worthy of you, he should be able to lead you in a way that even if you do trip, he’ll catch you so no one else notices. ”
“You won’t be overly critical, will you?”
“I want nothing more than to see you happily married, Becca, so I won’t be overly critical, but I won’t let you settle, either.”
“You won’t let me?” She raised an eyebrow at him. He had been her guardian for nearly four years, yet he wasn’t sure he’d ever forbidden her from doing anything.
“Someone will ask for a dance. You’ll agree and be your charming self so he will fall in love with you and ask for your hand. You’ll have no interest, but be too kind to break his heart, which is why I will not give just anyone my blessing.”
While he had lost his chance at happiness, Nathaniel was determined to see each of his siblings – including Rebecca, though she was technically a cousin – married off to nothing less than the loves of their lives.
“You can predict the future?”
“Would you refuse anyone adequate who asked?”
“Not a dance, but I hope I wouldn’t marry someone I felt no affection for.”
“My hope as well,” Nathaniel agreed as they pulled up to Sampson House. He took a deep breath, remembering the last time he’d walked up those steps and danced the night away with a very different girl on his arm.
“It’s beautiful,” Rebecca marveled.
“Shall we?” he asked, taking her arm. As long as he concentrated on the wonder in her eyes, perhaps he could forget the ache in his chest.
“Thank you for accompanying me. Grandmama was willing, but…”
“It’s better to be introduced to society by a young earl than an old chaperone.”
“I won’t tell Grandmama you called her old.” She smiled. “But I truly appreciate it.”
“You deserve this, Becca. All of it.”
It was like time had stood still in the Sampson ballroom.
Tables decked out with refreshments, chairs in a corner for chaperones, and young ladies pretending they were taking a break from all the dancing when in truth they hadn’t been asked.
The orchestra was on a raised platform, serenading twenty or so couples into a quadrille. All exactly as it was six years ago.
“Miss Rebecca Turner, escorted by Nathaniel Sutton, the Earl of Lark,” a footman announced when they approached before handing Rebecca her dance card.
“If anyone asks, we can say you injured yourself fencing and are barred from dancing for weeks, if not months,” Rebecca said, noticing, as he did, that at least a dozen mothers turned to look at them as soon as his name–or rather his title–was announced.
“Was it fending off a dozen highwaymen that you sustained the injury?” Elizabeth, his eldest younger sibling, teased as she approached them.
Nathaniel avoided society as much as he could, especially ballrooms, but his sister, who was decked from head to toe in black, hadn’t been to London since she’d been widowed two years prior. Not that she’d left the countryside much before then, either.
Lizzie shrugged at his surprised look and turned to Rebecca, placing a hand over her heart. “You look dazzling, dearest. I loved that dress, but it was clearly made for you.”
“You’re far too kind.” Rebecca blushed. “I thought the story was that he was practicing with Stevens and he slipped. The point is to make him less desirable, is it not?”
“You were my favorite,” Nathaniel warned her.
“I would pretend to be offended, but I don’t think I was ever his favorite. Not even before Teddy was born.” Elizabeth brought her thumb to her chin as if considering the matter, though she’d been his only sibling at the time.
“Don’t be silly, Lizzie, of course you were my favorite back then, right up until you learned how to talk.”
He smiled at the restraint it took her not to stick her tongue out at him in the middle of the ballroom, where most eyes were on their party.
“It’s good to see you too, brother.”