Chapter 10 #2
Now Evander and Aurelia were moving through the room, and Aurelia was being introduced to Norfolk society.
It was different from London society in a way she had not anticipated, maybe less concerned with being seen, if that made sense.
It was difficult to tell the gentry from the nobility.
There could very well have even been farmers among them.
“What was this ball for?” Aurelia asked, holding tightly onto Evander’s arm. “There seems to be guests of every shade and colour here tonight.”
Evander smiled politely at a passing older woman.
“The Earl and Countess bring together the local merchant guilds once a year and some other notables in the area. That man there owns the fishing ports in Great Yarmouth, for instance. And Sir Fowler, who you will meet later, runs the bank. There are many more people you should meet, but many of them are still down in London for the season. Some young women who you will take a liking to.”
“I have Lydia.”
“I meant some women here.”
Aurelia looked up, smiling sweetly. “Tired of me already?”
“I am only thinking of your health.”
“As you so often do.”
“Yes.” He grinned and picked up two goblets of something warm, handed it to her and cheersing. “So here, to your health.”
Soon, they were approached by a landowner in what looked like his good coat who asked her whether she'd found the county “manageable”.
Then there was a vicar's wife who wanted to talk about music, having heard about Aurelia’s favourite pastime.
Two sisters from just outside Fakenham came by, having apparently hoped Evander would come tonight – and if not him then his brother.
Aurelia was in the middle of a conversation about the upcoming Booton fair – which she knew more about than she even wanted to, now – when she heard the musicians begin to tune their instruments.
She turned to look at them, and the little group of local women who had adopted her turned as well out of interest. Evander had gone off somewhere, telling her to behave in his absence.
She missed him, was more shy and awkward without him, but the music would help.
The quartet was preparing itself on the raised platform at the far end of the nave.
She looked at the first violin, and it reminded her of the London parties Violet had taken her to, and suddenly the evening took a familiar shape that helped her feel more at ease.
But it wasn’t just the essence of the quartet that was familiar.
She actually knew them.
She had last seen this quartet in a musical salon in London at the beginning of the year, on the afternoon she had been seated beside Frederick Battle for the first time, and he had looked down at her feet and said “I can tell you love music, you have been trying not to tap your feet.”
She felt heat rise to her face and hoped the other ladies wouldn’t notice.
She took a sip of the warm cider handed to her earlier and dismissed her thoughts about Frederick.
He had abandoned her and that was fine, even if everyone here knew it but was too polite to mention it.
She was learning that maybe they both had dodged a bullet in that regard.
But she couldn’t help the sting of rejection she felt at the memory, and the reminder that all of this – this happy moment – had come about because she had been left behind and Evander had needed to mend things for them both.
Aurelia looked for him instinctively. At that moment, someone touched her arm lightly.
“They are very good,” said the woman beside her, Miss Beckingham, the daughter of the bank owner. “You will like them a lot, I think. You like music, don’t you, Your Grace?”
She nodded, forcing a smile. “Very much.”
“Then let’s go to them and have a chat.”
There had been worse ideas, Aurelia thought.
But maybe not worse ideas that night.
“You haven’t seen my wife, have you?” Evander asked Poole as he re-entered through the church’s back doors.
He had gone outside for air with some gentlemen he played cards with occasionally, having thought some distance from him would help Aurelia find her footing.
“I left her only fifteen minutes ago but now she is gone.
Poole stood on his toes to scan the room, then shook his head. “Can’t say I have recently, Your Grace. But I caught her maybe ten minutes ago by the musicians with Miss Beckingham.”
Evander nodded and proceeded in that direction. He heard her laugh before he saw her, stopping in his tracks.
She laughed easily with people she liked. Evander had noticed this about Aurelia in the past two weeks. Her society laugh and the real one were distinguishable to him now. And he could tell from fifteen feet away which one this was.
When he saw her at last through a gap in the crowd, she stood with young Miss Beckingham indeed, but also with a gentleman. He was dressed like a dandy, probably from London then. Evander narrowed his eyes. But he couldn’t recognise him.
He was speaking loudly with Aurelia, leaning in a little too close and confidently.
He was not objectionable on any available measure.
He seemed to be personable and attentive, clearly interested in the conversation they were having rather than pretending to be interested because of her novelty or her good looks.
And yet… Evander looked at his drink. His breath hitched when he felt Poole sidle up beside him. “Her Grace seems occupied.”
“Yes.” Evander bit the insides of his cheeks. “Do you know that man?”
Poole observed him from a distance. “I believe he’s the brother of one of the musicians here tonight, though I couldn’t tell you his name if I tried. But I don’t believe… oh.”
Evander looked up, then across, to see what had caused Poole to gasp.
Aurelia had taken the man’s hand and they were headed to the dancefloor.
It was not the first dance of the evening, so there was no real faux-pas on her part.
And Evander had told her that he had no rhythm and didn’t like dancing.
So it was reasonable she had not considered waiting for him because she assumed he would never ask.
But he stepped back regardless, staggered and, yes, hurt. She was his wife. She was allowed to dance, and this was a ball, and these were the normal operations of a social occasion that he was attending by choice with her. So why did he feel this way?
He watched her go onto the floor. He told himself the thing he had been telling himself in various forms for two weeks: their arrangement was practical, and he was not going to confuse warmth for something difficult.
He was not Frederick. He did not act on things before he understood them – especially not with a woman.
He watched the musician say something and Aurelia tilt her head almost flirtatiously.
He watched them step into the dance – some sort of country dance which mercifully would keep them away from one another for the most part.
But as they took their positions, he watched the musician's hand on hers, looked at his drink again, now empty, looked at the dance floor…
And before he knew what he was doing, Evander set his glass down on the nearest surface. He was already moving before he had finished whatever thought had sent him marching forward, and before Poole could stop him.