Chapter Six #2
It struck Gilbert how lovely she had become since he had gone away to school.
It seemed like just yesterday she was still a scrawny girl who loved to race over the hills and cared little if her dress or stockings tore.
Now Gilbert had to admit she was as elegant as any other lady in the hall.
And while some gentlemen did not care for redheads, Gilbert was not inclined in that way.
Hearing she was being slighted made him consider asking her for a second set, but, just then, the musicians returned to the stage and began to tune their instruments, so Gilbert bowed and went to find his next dance partner.
During their set, Nancy and Gilbert chatted. It was a more sedate dance, which made conversation easy as they moved in and out of the patterns.
“Tell me, Gilbert, have you come to a decision about becoming a curate?”
“I thought we were only to speak of the weather and muslin, Nancy.”
“That is when Papa is close by. When we are together, I insist on knowing all your opinions.”
They did a graceful turn, separating, then, when they reunited, he replied, “Well, you gave me the idea of what to do, in truth.”
“I?”
“Yes, when you made a jest of my living off of my mother’s legacy and losing my looks and health to drink.” The dance forced them apart again, and when they joined hands once more, he saw a look of concern on her face.
“You are not seriously going to engage in a period of excessive drink, are you?” she asked. “Please tell me you are not so desperate.”
He smiled. “No, of course not. A gentleman always imbibes in moderation, or so my father says. I meant that, when I inherit next month, I shall ask—” He was forced to break off and wait until they were together again to conclude, “—ask my father to allow me to take some time to travel and enjoy myself following all my hard work at school. I think I shall be the better for it.”
“Travel? You will leave Doddington, then?”
“Oh, perhaps for a time, at least. I should like to go to Paris, or Rome.”
“I see. And your father—will he agree, do you think?”
Gilbert shrugged. The dance came to an end, the partners bowed and curtsied to each other, and Gilbert escorted Nancy off the floor. “I cannot say for certain, but I hope I may persuade him. I feel too young to settle into a career yet—I will only be four and twenty soon.”
“On June eleventh,” Nancy said softly.
His eyes widened. “You remember. I am quite surprised.”
“I remember everything about you, Gilbert.” She studied him a moment before adding, “Thank you for the dance.”
“You are welcome. I must dance the next with my cousin, Selina, but perhaps we might take another turn together this evening. I do not think we would set tongues wagging if we do. Most every person here knows of our friendship.”
“That would be very pleasant.”
“Gilbert, there you are,” said Selina, as she bounced up to him. “If I did not know you to be an always affectionate cousin, I would be quite vexed at you. After all, to have my first dance with you at this late point in the evening is quite unsupportable.”
“Selina, forgive me, I meant no slight, I assure you. Oh, do you know Miss Slade?”
The two young ladies curtsied to each other. “Yes,” Nancy replied. “We have known each other for some years, actually. We were together at Mrs. Bennington’s school for a time. Although your cousin is much younger than I, so we did not much associate, I am afraid.”
“La! You tease me, Miss Slade. I am only three years younger than you, I believe. Or is it four? Are you well? I see you sometimes in your tea shop,” Selina said.
“I must say you and your father have done wonders with the old place.” At the sound of the music rising again, she tugged on Gilbert’s sleeve.
“Oh! Come, Gilbert, else we will not get a good place in line.” She nodded at Nancy and pulled Gilbert away.
“He seems to have grown into a fine young man,” her father said, stepping closer to Nancy. “I am certain he will make a very good sort of minister.”
“Yes, it would seem so,” she answered softly.
The evening became louder and more raucous as the hours went by.
Charlotte and Lavinia spent a good deal of time seated along a wall and fanning themselves by the open windows.
They shared a little gossip about the participants and admired the many beautiful dresses, while trying to catch a breath of fresh air in the stifling hall.
“I declare, sister, does it not bother you to see your husband dance with others?” Lavinia asked, pointing to Frederick who was enjoying a reel with a plump young lady, whose heaving bosom appeared at risk of bouncing straight out of the low neckline of her puce gown.
“I should become violently jealous should Miles dance with any lady other than you or our cousin.”
“It does not trouble me at all. Frederick knows I do not care to dance in my present condition, and he takes care to ask ladies who are slighted by other men, that they may have their share of the enjoyment on the dance floor. In truth, I am proud of his generosity. In addition, his stamina is greatly to be admired.”
The music ended and Frederick came over to his wife and sister. He pulled out his handkerchief and wiped the sheen of perspiration from his face. “Gracious, the music is so good this evening. I am having a delightful time. I only wish you could dance with me, Charlotte.”
She smiled up at him. “Soon enough, my love, soon enough. I miss it too, however—” She broke off and pointed her fan at a footman in the crowd who was scanning the room with a look of anxiety on his face. “Lavinia—is that not Billy from Clayton House? What could he be doing here?”
The footman spotted Charlotte and Lavinia and hurried over. He bowed then said, “Mrs. Kendall, Mrs. Wilson sent me here to fetch you home. Your son is unwell.”
Lavinia was on her feet in an instant. “What ails him? What is wrong with my Dickie?”
“I do not know, ma’am, I was told only to find you as soon as possible. Where are Mr. Kendall and Master Miles?”
“I shall find them—I think they are in the card room,” Frederick said. “You retrieve Master Gilbert—there he is—still dancing. Then, go at once to the front of the hall and we shall meet you there.” He hurried off.
Lavinia turned an anguished face to her sister. “Oh, Charlotte, What could it be? My poor, poor darling babe.” She gripped Charlotte’s hand tightly, and the two moved out of the dance room.