Chapter 8
Chapter Eight
Alice felt considerably more confident approaching her second ball than she had the first, at least in her appearance.
Beth had worked miracles with her hair, arranging it in an elegant style with soft curls framing her face.
The pale blue empire-line ballgown she wore was the most beautiful garment she had ever owned.
The silky fabric draped elegantly over her figure, complemented by her new shoes and the diamond necklace Aunt Jane had lent her.
The jewels sparkled with every movement, catching the light in a way that made Alice feel almost like a different person.
Standing before the mirror, she had scarcely recognised herself. She looked sophisticated and almost as though she truly belonged in London society, a feat she had not believed possible only a week earlier.
Her traitorous heart skipped a beat as she reached the top of the stairs and saw Anthony waiting in the entrance hall below.
He watched her descent with unwavering intensity, his gaze sending prickles racing down her spine.
It took every ounce of her will power not to race down but to hold back and take her time, aiming to show a modicum of elegance and decorum.
“Good evening,” she said, unable to meet his eyes.
“Good evening,” he replied, his voice unusually quiet. “You look… different.”
Alice’s smile faltered. Different. The word landed like a dull stone. “That is rather the idea,” she replied, attempting to sound light.
Anthony took a small step closer. “I mean… you look beautiful.”
“Thank you,” Alice replied, feeling her cheeks flush. She was saved from further confusion and embarrassment by her aunt’s appearance.
“Well, you two look wonderful together,” her aunt declared from the top of the stairs, a knowing smile playing on her lips. “You are both certain to capture hearts this evening.”
If there are any hearts left in London for Anthony to capture, Alice thought wryly.
He was particularly handsome tonight in his dark evening clothes, the candlelight from the hall emphasising his strong features and broad shoulders.
She could well imagine half the ladies in London sighing over him.
They did not know the infuriating man beneath the charming exterior.
“The carriage is waiting,” Anthony said, offering his arm first to Aunt Jane, then subtly positioning himself to escort Alice as well.
Of course, Alice realised with a silent sigh: with Anthony staying in the same house, they would even be travelling to events together…
She told herself it was of no consequence.
They would not even be travelling for long enough for her nausea to develop.
She could handle a short carriage ride with him.
Whatever strange affliction had taken hold of her in London, she was determined it would pass soon.
They settled into the carriage, Alice and Aunt Jane on the forward-facing seat with Anthony opposite, which he seemed to believe gave him licence to stare at Alice for the entirety of the short journey.
His long legs took up a disconcerting amount of space, and Alice kept her knees carefully turned away from his.
If Aunt Jane noticed the tension, she gave no sign, chatting pleasantly about the guests expected at tonight’s ball.
The journey passed in a haze for Alice. She did her best to focus on her aunt’s conversation and mentally review her list of eligible bachelors, but Anthony’s steady gaze made concentration nearly impossible.
There was going to be a much larger crowd at this ball, ‘everybody’ would be there according to Aunt Jane.
Alice attempted to quell her nerves. This was her first big test in the marriage market.
She still wasn’t absolutely confident in her dancing abilities despite practising steps by herself in her room for an hour every day, but other than that, she felt ready.
The queue of carriages outside the grand townhouse was considerable. By the time they finally alighted onto the cobbled street, Alice’s nerves had returned in full force.
She accepted the footman’s hand as she stepped down and found herself in front of Anthony. He held his arm out to her, “May I escort you inside?” he asked, softly.
Alice had little choice but to accept, and so she placed her arm in his, catching her aunt’s little smile as she did so.
As they entered the glittering ballroom, the sheer scale of it took her breath away.
She gasped at the hundreds of candles, sparkling chandeliers, and elegantly dressed members of the Ton swirling across the floor.
She glanced up at Anthony and found him already looking at her.
Distracted, she nearly tripped on the threshold.
His hand steadied her instantly, smooth and discreet.
In the golden candlelight, Anthony was devastatingly handsome. Aunt Jane had been right, he would capture many hearts tonight. Alice was startled to realise she was worried one of them might already be hers and was grateful when Anthony excused himself a short while later.
Left with her aunt, Alice was introduced to several matrons and their daughters.
“Your dress is lovely,” commented one young woman.
“Thank you, so is yours,” replied Alice. “It’s very… yellow.” The woman raised her eyebrows. It appeared she needed to work on her conversational skills.
All the mamas displayed their sons and nephews to Alice, and her dance card soon began to fill. Several names were from her list, including her first partner, Lord Robert Fitzwilliam.
Lord Fitzwilliam came over to her as the dance was due to start and, taking her hand, led her onto the dance floor, where the other couples were lining up ready.
She took the opportunity to assess her partner; looks wise, he maybe wasn’t everything she would have hoped for in a husband, but appearances weren’t everything she reminded herself.
And if good looks made a man as vain as Anthony then, frankly, she could do without them.
Unfortunately, it also seemed Lord Fitzwilliam did not have much of a personality from what she could judge from just a few minutes in his company.
Perhaps she was being unfair, she was sure plenty of women would enjoy hearing about his mother’s hyacinths…
She spun and spotted Anthony. He was talking with a friend of his she thought she recognised.
His gaze however was solely on her. She could feel it boring into her skin.
Alice felt herself tense under his scrutiny but tried to give her attention to her partner and the plentiful gardening advice he was offering whenever they had a chance to exchange words. She could suddenly see the advantages of a strong but silent dance partner.
Alice danced twice more and was twice more disappointed in her partner.
At least she was whittling down the names on her list she supposed as she mentally crossed off a Mr Stanton and his extensive newt collection which went with him whenever he travelled…
She returned to her aunt during the musicians’ break to get a drink.
She was making polite conversation with a group of the other young ladies when she felt a tap on her shoulder.
Turning, she found Anthony standing far closer than was strictly necessary.
“Do you have any spaces left on your dance card?” he asked as her companions fluttered discreetly away casting curious glances back over their shoulders at their new friend talking to one of the most eligible bachelors in London.
“Oh…um… I am not sure…” replied Alice, suddenly flustered.
“I am not actually your brother,” he pointed out with a teasing smile.
Aunt Jane, observing from nearby, gave an encouraging nod. “I think it would be quite proper, my dear. Lord Tonbridge has not danced at all yet this evening. Perhaps you might inspire him to ask some of the wallflowers as well.”
“It looks like the next dance is about to begin, are you engaged?” Anthony asked.
“No, it is the only one I am not taken for…” admitted Alice, still unsure whether being on the dance floor with Anthony was a good idea.
Anthony took her hand and led her into the centre of the room, causing every nerve in Alice to tingle. It felt like she could feel all the eyes in the room on her.
Only as they took their positions did Alice realise the truth.
“It’s a waltz,” she whispered, a flutter of nerves, and something far more dangerous, racing through her.
The waltz was still relatively new and somewhat scandalous in many circles, its close hold considered far too intimate by some of the older matrons. Why did it have to be a waltz and not a jolly reel where only their hands would touch every now and again?
Anthony shrugged, placing his hand on her waist with easy confidence. “If it is the only dance you are not already engaged for, it will have to suffice.”
“You are not planning to trip me up or something are you?” Alice asked suspiciously, as she put her hand on his broad shoulder.
“Of course not!” replied Anthony.
“It is the kind of thing you used to do to me,” Alice pointed out.
“That was years ago,” said Anthony as the music started. “When we were children.”
“It does not seem like that long ago… You still enjoy vexing me now.”
“I do, but I promise to be on my best behaviour tonight,” he replied with a grin.
As the music began, Anthony became all seriousness as he drew her closer.
He moved with masterful assurance, guiding her effortlessly around the floor.
For the first time that evening, Alice felt graceful and light.
Everything else - the crowd, her list, her sensible plans - faded until there was only the warmth of his hand at her waist, the steady strength of his shoulder beneath her fingers, and the intense blue of his eyes locked on hers.
When the music ended, Alice felt breathless and unsteady. She pulled away from Anthony rather too quickly and hurried back to her aunt, leaving him standing on the dance floor.
“I need some air,” she murmured.