Chapter 14 #2
Tristan smiled. "It was considered positively scandalous."
The orchestra began, and almost at once they were moving. Tristan had never found dancing particularly difficult, yet dancing with Helena felt effortlessly natural. She seemed to anticipate each turn with graceful certainty, so that before long the steps required little thought at all.
"Have you danced the waltz often?" he asked, curiosity getting the better of him.
Helena laughed. "No, indeed. Only once before, at an assembly with Lord Ravenscroft." A playful smile touched her lips. "Though I confess I enjoyed learning it far more than any quadrille or country dance."
"Then I should not have guessed it. You dance as though you have done so for years," Tristan responded warmly.
Color touched Helena's cheeks. "You are kind, though I suspect I owe more to my partner than to my own ability."
Tristan's smile deepened. "I have danced it only a handful of times myself," he admitted.
"Mostly with Elinor, and once or twice with Beatrice.
" His gaze drifted briefly around the ballroom before returning to Helena.
"It is curious. Even now, when society has largely reconciled itself to the waltz, it still seems to possess something the other dances do not. "
Helena agreed, and his attention returned wholly to her.
As they continued to turn about the ballroom, no further words passed between them.
Instead, he found himself aware of the closeness the dance permitted.
Though propriety and the steps themselves dictated a respectful distance, his hand rested lightly at her waist while hers remained upon his shoulder, and he became conscious of each point where they met.
He remembered dancing with Elinor and having enjoyed it well enough, yet never before had he been so aware of the warmth of a lady's presence, the gentle sound of her laughter, or the faint fragrance of rose and bergamot that seemed to belong to Helena alone.
He had caught only the briefest trace of it before, but with her so near, its delicate fragrance reached him with every turn of the dance. For the first time in many years, he wished a dance might last a little longer.
Her eyes lifted to his once more, holding his gaze for a fleeting moment before she smiled and glanced toward another couple turning nearby. The reminder came unbidden of their arrangement, of their marriage of convenience, and of the understanding upon which they had both agreed.
Until that moment, he had given their arrangement little thought. The instant Helena descended the staircase, something had changed. No longer did he see only the sensible lady, and friend, who had agreed to stand beside him in a practical marriage.
Throughout the evening, he had seen the graceful, intelligent, beautiful lady she was, and understood, more deeply, why any gentleman would have counted himself fortunate to win her hand.
More than that, from the moment she slipped her silk-gloved hand upon his arm in the hall of the townhouse, he had looked upon her, quite simply, as his wife.
"You are lost in thought," Helena observed, drawing him back to the present.
"I confess I am." Tristan guided her through another turn before she returned once more to his hold. "Tell me... are you content with our arrangement?"
Helena studied him for a moment, as though surprised by the question.
"I am." A small smile touched her lips. "I could not have hoped for a kinder husband, nor one whose friendship I value more.
" She hesitated briefly. "Friendship, mutual respect, and understanding seem to me far firmer foundations than affections which may prove fleeting. I could ask for nothing more."
Tristan nodded his head in agreement, yet her answer left him unexpectedly disappointed.
Some small, unreasonable part of him had hoped to hear, or perhaps glimpse in her expression, that she wished for something beyond the arrangement they had so carefully established.
It was only then that he admitted he wished for it himself.
Yet her words echoed in his mind, I could ask for nothing more.
The music soon came to an end, and Tristan led Helena from the floor.
As they walked, he became aware of the approving glances cast their way by those nearby, and it seemed society regarded their marriage as a fortunate match.
Looking at Helena upon his arm, he could not help thinking they presented exactly as a husband and wife ought.
The remainder of the evening passed with little consequence. Tristan observed that Georgiana accepted several dances from eligible gentlemen and conducted herself with all the grace expected of a young lady enjoying her first Season.
To his relief, he saw her exchange only a brief conversation with Lord Ravenscroft before she was claimed by another partner, and the baron sought amusement elsewhere.
Nathaniel claimed one dance with Georgiana before supper, and though she returned with the faintly exasperated expression Tristan had come to recognize whenever he had been in her company, Nathaniel appeared in excellent spirits, as though he had found the set thoroughly enjoyable.
Beatrice and Charlotte, meanwhile, appeared inseparable. Wherever Tristan happened to glance, the two ladies were together, laughing over some private observation or introducing one another to acquaintances as though they had been lifelong friends.
Between dances, Georgiana invariably found her way back to them, and the pair kept a fond, almost protective eye upon her as they moved about the ballroom. More than once, he caught Nathaniel smiling at the three ladies before he was drawn into conversation himself.
Shortly before midnight, the guests were invited into the dining room, where long tables had been laid with every delicacy the Harbury Ball could provide.
Conversation rose above the clink of crystal and silver as guests helped themselves to cold meats, pies, salmon, molded jellies, trifles, sweet pastries, and fresh fruit.
Tristan remained beside Helena throughout the meal, their conversation flowing with familiarity, just as it once had. Even so, his thoughts returned more than once to the words they had exchanged during the waltz.
At last, as carriages began drawing up before the house, the Wycliffe party took their leave.
The journey home was quieter than before.
Georgiana and Beatrice spoke in subdued voices of the evening's successes before weariness gradually overcame them, while Helena sat opposite, quietly.
Tristan's gaze drifted to her more than once, though the words he wished to say remained unspoken.
Once the footmen had taken their coats in the hall, Beatrice and Georgiana bid Helena and Tristan goodnight before ascending the staircase to their own chambers.
"That was a most enjoyable evening," Tristan said as he and Helena crossed the hall together. "I believe I have you to thank for much of it."
Helena looked up at him with surprise before smiling.
"You are far too generous. It was a lovely evening indeed.
Thank you, Tristan." As they reached the foot of the staircase, she added, "I trust I shall sleep well, though my mind is rather too awake after the evening's amusement.
I suspect it will be some time before sleep finds me. "
Tristan smiled faintly. "I believe mine is much the same. I think I shall spend a short while in the library before retiring."
They reached the landing, where the staircase divided.