Chapter 19
William felt out of his depth. He had been amazed at the ease by which they gained entry, even as he had witnessed others be denied.
“It’s a fake,” the steward had told one man, and he had been hastily ejected by two footmen, shouting his protests for all to hear.
But William’s invitation had been a perfect forgery, and now he found himself amidst the gathered crowds, looking around him in the hope of catching sight of Anne. But as to what he would do when he did so, William was uncertain. He had practiced what he might say a dozen times, even as he knew such intentions were futile.
Lady Miller… Anne… you’re…very pretty. Might I have this dance…no, that doesn’t right. Or does it? I do want to dance with her. But shouldn’t she present her dance card to me? Lady Anne, shall we dance? No, that sounds like an order. I want her to dance with me, but I don’t want to sound like I’m forcing her to do so. But I wouldn’t be forcing her…she’d want to. Everyone else is dancing, William thought to himself, feeling terribly nervous in this strange and unsettling world.
He had never been in such a place before, and it was clear he was participating in an occasion governed by any number of unwritten rules. There were those who would not speak to others because of their social status, whilst others could not speak to others because of theirs. The gentlemen would approach the ladies, but some of them would be outrightly rejected, only to approach those of a lesser standing. The young ladies were chaperoned, whilst the gentlemen gathered in groups, urging one another towards this or that intention. Some were rejected, others flattered, and as the music began, the successful matches took to the waltz, twirling and whirling in a display of silks and tails.
“And what am I to do?” William asked himself, glancing around him again for any sign of Anne.
It was then he saw her – dancing with a man amidst the throng. William sighed. He had not known what to expect, and in his naivety, he had thought Anne would be waiting for him, her dance card unmarked. Instead, this was surely Lord Peter, the man to whom she was apparently betrothed, or so it seemed to William. William turned away, disappointed in himself for not making his move sooner. He had been hesitant, and now he shook his head, wondering if any of it had been worth the effort. William had not come to London to gamble and chase after women. He had come to the capital to seek his fortune, and he could only imagine what his godfather would say if he could see him now.
“And what if word gets back to Lancaster? My godfather’s bound to be known here,” William told himself, feeling suddenly foolish in his purple waistcoat and new breeches.
Digby had disappeared, making an excuse about old acquaintances, and William was left alone. He glanced again towards the throng of dancers, watching as Anne danced with the man whom William assumed to be Lord Peter Ulverston, the man she had mentioned at the arcade. William himself could never hope to be so confident – to sweep a woman off her feet, to mark her dance card, to be the gentleman he was pretending to be. Around him, real gentlemen were promenading, approaching women, taking them by the arm…
“Are you enjoying the ball?” a shrill voice to his right enquired.
William turned to find a haughty-looking woman peering at him through a pair of gold pince-nez spectacles.
“Oh, yes, very much so,” William said, his palms growing clammy as he wondered who she was, and why she was asking him such a question.
Was this the done thing? Should William himself have approached others and asked the same thing?
“I don’t recognize you. I thought I knew everyone here tonight – I issued the invitations, of course,” the woman said.
William’s eyes grew wide with fear. He should know who the woman was, even as he did not have the faintest idea.
“I’m…” William stammered.
“William Baker, of course, Lady Erdmann,” Digby said, interjecting, as the woman turned to him in surprise.
“Ah…yes…and you?” she asked, looking at Digby in surprise.
“Digby Kirkpatrick, my Lady. We met at the Browns last spring. Lady Brown was so gracious. I remember distinctly, you…” he began, but Lady Erdmann interrupted him.
“Ah, yes, Mr. Kirkpatrick. I…do remember you. Lord Brown, yes, and his dear wife. A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Baker,” she said, turning and hurrying off across the ballroom.
William looked at Digby in surprise.
“I… I don’t understand,” he said, and Digby smiled.
“She organizes the ball – Charlton Lodge is a venue of sorts. No lone lives here. It’s owned by the crown estate and hired out for these sorts of thing. Lady Erdmann doesn’t know who I am – not at all. But I know something about her – did you see the look on her face when I mentioned Lord Brown?” he asked.
William nodded. Lady Erdmann had looked terrified, and now Digby smiled.
“I did, yes, but… I still don’t understand,” William replied.
“She’s been having an affair with him – right under Lady Brown’s nose. I happen to know a footman in her household, and he furnished me with some interesting information. I feared we might be challenged, but no more,” he said, placing his hand firmly on William’s shoulder and giving him a reassuring nod.
William felt uncomfortable. Not only was their invitation fake, but it was now justified by blackmail. He shook his head and sighed.
“You can’t hold it against her. Don’t lots of people have affairs?” he asked, and Digby laughed.
“I’m sure they do, but she’d have thrown us out, William. I had to have some insurance against it. Haven’t you found Lady Miller yet?” he asked, changing the subject.
William looked around, trying to spot Anne amidst the throng. But he could not see her, and shook his head sadly.
“I did see her, but she was dancing with…well, another man,” he replied, feeling embarrassed at having missed his chance.
But Digby appeared unperturbed.
“She was bound to dance with another man, William. What did you expect? To find her a shy and retiring violent, shrinking back against the wall? No, she’ll have her card marked. I suggest you slip off into the anteroom for some refreshment. Wait until the music stops and return. You’ll find her expectant of company, I’m sure,” he said, and before William could reply, Digby had left his side.
Again, he felt a fool, entirely out of place and out of his depth. Had Digby not rescued him from Lady Erdmann, he’d surely be out on the street in shame. But instead, he had been given a second chance, and now he drew himself up, reminding himself why he had done what he had done.
It’s all for her. You want to see her again – not from a distance, but up close. You want to dance with her. You want to… he thought to himself, stopping before he got carried away.
Taking Digby’s advice, William made his way into the anteroom. Charlton Lodge was a magnificent setting for the ball – marbled columns, velvet drapes, ornate, baroquely – it was lavish, a far cry from William’s humble origins. Even Burnley Abbey was not like this, and William could only imagine what his mother would say if she could see him in such a place as this.
“She’d probably laugh at me,” he told himself, as he took a ladleful of punch, and sighed.
He was about to retreat into a corner when he felt himself being watched, and turning, he found himself face to face with Anne herself. He almost dropped his punch in surprise, and she smiled at him, stepping forward, as he bowed. She was wearing a purple dress, and was certainly the prettiest young lady in the room.
“Lady Miller, I… I thought…” he stammered, for he really did not know what to say when faced with the object of his affections – the reason he had done everything he had done since meeting her by chance in the marketplace.
“I slipped away,” she replied, helping herself to a glass of punch.
William smiled, the two of them stepping to one side, as a gaggle of chattering women descended on the refreshments.
“But I thought you…were dancing with someone else. I assumed it was Lord Peter Ulverston, the man you mentioned when we met at the arcade,” William said.
He did not wish to embarrass her, but he felt somewhat awkward at the thought of playing second fiddle to Lord Peter, who obviously believed he had primacy in Anne’s dealings with other gentlemen.
“I was, but I don’t want to. My parents want me to marry him, but I don’t want to marry him. I don’t want to marry anyone I don’t choose to,” she said, still smiling at him.
“I feared we might not have had this chance,” William replied.
“I feared so, too. But why does it matter? Why shouldn’t we talk? It’s a ball, isn’t it? This is what people do at balls,” Anne said, even as she glanced over her shoulder.
William wondered what would happen if they were seen together. He knew nothing of the rules and etiquette of such encounters – should she be chaperoned, or was the preponderance of women around them sufficient? Was it not enough for two people to want to talk to one another?
“I’m so glad we are. I’ve been waiting for this moment – to see you again, I mean,” he said, smiling at her, and Anne blushed.
“I’ve been waiting for it, too,” Anne replied, and William felt the blush rise in his cheeks.
He had thought himself a mere passing fancy, and a fool to think a woman like Anne should consider him anything more than one of many suitors to cross her path. When he had seen her dancing amidst the throng, he had believed his fears to be true, but her words brought with them a glimmer of hope.
“I thought…well, I wasn’t sure how it would be,” William admitted.
“You’re very provincial, Mr. Baker – how is it in Lancashire? How are these things done?” she asked, looking at him curiously.
“Well… I…they just…happen, I suppose,” William replied, hoping she would not ask any further questions about the society of which he was not a part.
“I might’ve gone there, you know…but…it doesn’t matter, now. I’ve been looking forward to seeing you. I’m so grateful to you for helping me in the marketplace over that foolish loaf of bread,” she said, and William laughed.
“I couldn’t let him take such liberties with you. It just wasn’t right. But I’m rather glad he did, otherwise… I might not have met you,” he said.
William did not know if this was too forward, but Anne smiled, blushing as she shook her head.
“I won’t be going to the market again. But I’m glad I did then, too” she replied.
“Well…yes, certainly. I…” William said, stammering a little, uncertain of what to say to her.
The entire deception had been building to this moment, and now William did not know how to act. He was like a fish out of water. Surrounded by finery, dressed in finery, and talking to finest woman in the room. He smiled at her, even as it seemed she was waiting for him to ask something.
“Do you dance, Mr. Baker?” she asked, and William realized what it was he should have done.
“Oh…yes, I do, and…would you…care to dance, too?” he asked, and a smile came over her face, her wide, beautiful eyes meeting his as she nodded.
“I’d like that very much,” she said, taking out her dance card.
William stared at it in surprise, even as she handed it to him. It was marked entirely with the name of “Lord Peter Ulverston” but Anne had scratched out that of the next dance, leaving the space blank. Digby had given William a pencil for just this occurrence, and with a trembling hand, he signed his name.
“I hope it’s not an impertinence,” he said, fearing the wrath of Lord Peter, should he see the two of them dancing.
“An impertinence? Not at all. Aren’t I allowed to dance with whomsoever I wish? It’s a lady’s prerogative to dance with whomsoever she wishes,” Anne replied.
William feared he had shown his ignorance again. He knew nothing of the etiquette of such things, and he smiled and nodded, offering her his arm.
“I think I hear the music beginning again,” he said, and Anne smiled.
“A waltz. I love a waltz. My governess taught me to dance. Did yours? It’s so difficult if you don’t have proper instruction,” she said, as they made their way out of the anteroom and into the throng.
William had not been taught to dance by his governess. He had not had a governess, and his mother had been far too busy with her mending and sewing to bother much about whether William knew his two step from his four step.
“Oh…yes, it’s quite dreadful, isn’t it?” he said, desperately trying to remember what Digby had taught him about the waltz.
As they stepped into the mass of twirling skirts, William slipped his arm around Anne’s waist, gazing down at her and thinking himself to be the luckiest man in the room. She was beautiful, and despite his fears, he knew now why he had done everything he had done. It was worth it for this one moment together – a moment of utter bliss, as they danced the waltz together.
“You dance well,” Anne exclaimed, for William had not expected to find himself naturally able.
It was one thing to pretend in front of the mirror, and quite another to have one’s arms around a beautiful woman. But to William’s surprise, he was managing it – he did not step on Anne’s toes, he kept his head up, his gaze fixed on her, as together they waltzed back and forth.
“Isn’t this fun?” he said, smiling at her, and forgetting he was not the man he was pretending to be.
The music filled the air, and together they moved effortlessly through the throng, dancing as though they had danced a hundred times before. There were no awkward movements, no stilted turns, just the delight of the waltz and the happiness of togetherness.
“It’s wonderful. I was so glad when I saw you. I didn’t think…well, I wasn’t sure. We hardly know one another, but I feel I do know you,” Anne said, and William could hear the sincerity in her voice.
He felt embarrassed – she did not know him at all, and if she did, she would surely not be dancing with him. It was all a charade, albeit a delightful one. William was not the man she believed him to be. His only claim was that of his godfather, and the rest was false. He was no gentleman, and he had no entitlement to dance with Anne as he was doing. He was a fake – mutton dressed as lamb.
“I was glad, too. I mean… I’ve been waiting…” he stammered, and Anne smiled.
“I have, too,” she said, as the musicians struck up another waltz.