Chapter One #3
Lord Montgomery smiled warmly. “If you do not accept, you will deny me the pleasure of a dance. I daresay most ladies here are already engaged for most of the evening and as I only arrived in London today, I fear I may have to be a wallflower.”
Mariana gave an unexpected giggle that brightened her somber appearance.
Gwendolyn nudged her cousin. “Do say yes. It would be fun to see you enjoy yourself at a ball instead of being bored while you sit with the ladies who never dance.”
Mariana fidgeted with her card, aware of her aunt’s icy glare.
But Gwendolyn was not going to let her cousin miss out on this rare opportunity.
Gentlemen did not usually ask Mariana to dance.
Even though most members of the haut ton had forgotten the details of the disgrace of her father’s death, she was still a pariah, tainted forever by the vague recollection of something scandalous in her past. It was only her association with Lord and Lady Burroughs that allowed her access to these exclusive social events.
Gwendolyn took Mariana’s unused card and handed it to Lord Montgomery. “I will only dance if you do,” she threatened her cousin. Lady Burroughs’s eyebrows shot up at Gwendolyn’s declaration but she said nothing as the baron quickly wrote his name for the opening quadrille.
He gave a sweeping bow that was both elegant and triumphant.
“Ladies, until later.” He raised first Mariana’s hand and then Gwendolyn’s to his lips.
He kept Gwendolyn’s hand in his a fraction longer than was strictly polite and his eyes perused her face as if he could read a thousand stories in the defiant tilt of her chin and the sullen twist of her mouth.
He straightened and gave a quick nod as if his thoughts had been confirmed by that brief encounter.
“Odious man,” Gwendolyn declared as he sauntered away through the crowd in search of an acquaintance he had spotted earlier.
“I don’t know,” Mariana said softly. “I believe he is gentlemanly and has a good sense of humor.”
Gwendolyn squeezed her cousin’s hand. “At any rate, I am glad he asked you to dance. I hate knowing that you don’t enjoy yourself at routs and balls.”
Mariana’s eyes were troubled. “It is kind of him, but once he knows of my family’s disgrace, he will regret his decision.
I feel guilty for not telling him that he will be the subject of gossip when we stand up together.
” Her voice was wistful. “But it does feel good to know I will dance a little, even if he only asked me because he wants to impress you.”
Gwendolyn laughed. “I do not think Lord Roland Montgomery cares much for my opinion, and he certainly is not trying to impress me. Everything in his demeanor was meant to show his disdain. I am not sure why he insists on dancing with me and I am annoyed that I will be forced to be his partner during supper, as well.”
Mariana was not convinced. “He couldn’t take his eyes off you and even now, he is looking this way.”
Gwendolyn tossed her head. “I am sure he only looks at me to find something about me which he finds repulsive. But he does have some esteem and maybe when other men see him dancing with you, they will no longer avoid you because of something dreadful that was not your fault at all and you will finally have more partners than I do.”
Mariana shook her head with a smile. “There are too many absurdities in your sentence for it to make sense.” Her face returned to its usual somber expression.
“If it were not for your mother’s generosity, I would not even attend any of these routs or parties.
It is kind of her to let me come so that I can enjoy them vicariously.
And tonight’s one dance will provide me enough pleasure to last at least a year or so. ”
Gwendolyn sniffed at her mother’s back. “Mother’s generosity.
That is a fiction that no one believes except herself.
She treats you as an unpaid servant, sending you on errands and insisting that you fetch and carry for her.
” She hugged Mariana. “But for once her selfishness resulted in a very pleasant friend for me.”
*
Gwendolyn tossed her curls coquettishly and simpered at something that Sir Percy said, even though tonight she did not find his snide comments about other guests as amusing as usual. For the first time, she wondered what he would say about her to his next dance partner.
The movement of the dance took her past Robert Walker who winked at her, his quick smile warming her heart. At least there was one gentleman who wanted to spend time with her because he liked her, not because he wanted to be able to boast that he had won a dance with the prettiest débutante.
But her momentary satisfaction vanished when she swirled back into line. Major Enderby and Grace were the lead couple and moving somberly down the set.
The major danced as excellently as he did everything, but Gwendolyn could determine no sign of enjoyment in his eyes. He was staring steadily in front of him and didn’t so much as glance at the young woman whom he had chosen as his future wife.
Gwendolyn tried not to stare at the couple, but she couldn’t help wondering if they were actually betrothed.
The major did not behave the way a young man in love ought to.
He was hardly aware of the elegant way Grace danced or of how the gauzy white muslin gown Mme Beaufort had made for her reflected the modesty and demureness of her character.
The soft green decoration of tiny ribbon flowers cascading down the side and a matching loosely tied sash that drew attention to her slim waist and graceful figure added to the appearance of freshness and Springtime youthfulness.
Her hair was arranged in soft curls and held in place with tiny white rosebuds.
Grace suddenly realized she was being watched and she looked up.
Her smile contained all the graciousness and sincerity that had marked her as kind and compassionate at the modiste.
Gwendolyn returned the smile with a brief one of her own but quickly turned away, aware that her staring, apart from being rude, revealed her own fascination with the major.
She felt gauche and gaudy beside her new friend.
Her vivid pink dress was tight and made breathing uncomfortable, and she regretted the ice she had eaten at Gunter’s tea shop that afternoon.
She tried to focus on Sir Percy, who had paused his flow of banter when his cutting remarks about Lady Preston’s feathers received no response from Miss Burroughs. He was studying her with a knowing glint that made her feel uncomfortable.
She tilted her chin up and made a comment about peacocks and peahens in an attempt to convince her partner that she was amused by his caustic comments.
But her thoughts were still focused on Major Enderby’s remoteness.
No smile softened his hard gaze, which was fixed on a distant spot in the room as he moved mechanically through the steps of the dance.
Neither he nor Grace spoke as they made their way down the line.
When the young couple passed Sir Percy and Gwendolyn, the major showed the only sign of animation since the beginning of the dance. His attention was caught by the brightness of her dress and his eyes shifted to her face. He nodded a greeting before resuming his abstracted gaze of the far wall.
Gwendolyn’s heart beat faster and she smiled at her hero, although he had moved on and didn’t see.
Her eyes followed him. Had his time in Spain with his regiment given him a different perspective on life?
Her heart skipped a beat. Had he decided that a sweet, demure woman like Grace was not the right kind of wife for him?
She held her breath, for one wild moment, daring to hope that she could be the woman who could win his heart.
As the thought formed in Gwendolyn’s mind, she almost stumbled and treaded on Sir Percy’s toes, even though she could do the steps of the dance in her sleep.
“Oh, how clumsy of me.” She laughed even though she felt no amusement at her own folly. “I do hope I haven’t hurt you.”
Sir Percy eyed her sharply but passed off her fumble by saying, “How naughty of you, Miss Burroughs, trying to tempt me into taking you into my arms in the kind of embrace that would bring down the censure of the whole of society on us. Although it would, I am sure, be very pleasant for both of us.”
Gwendolyn blushed and focused on the dance for the next few minutes.
She liked men to flirt with her. Their compliments made her feel beautiful and interesting, and while she was the center of their attention, she could forget all the criticisms her mother cast at her and how disappointed her father was that she was not a son.
But Sir Percy was being much more attentive to her than usual, murmuring compliments that were uncomfortably overfamiliar.
“Very bold of you to choose a dress in such a vibrant shade,” he commented as a movement of the dance brought her alongside him.
“What color would you call it? It’s not quite scarlet, but sufficiently vivid for you to stand out from all the demure and delicate society misses in their chaste white gowns who are using their innocence to ensnare a husband. ”
Gwendolyn wasn’t quite sure how to respond to Sir Percy.
Had he complimented her or insulted her?
She had not missed his use of the word scarlet to describe her dress.
Ladies did not wear red dresses, a color associated with the wicked behavior of the kind of women shunned by society and whom young ladies were warned would be their fate if they were too forward with the gentlemen of their acquaintance.