Courtship In The Regency Ballroom. Annie Burrows
to be nothing more than a mirage after all.
‘Well, I see nothing wrong in waltzing either,’ Julia declared. ‘When I was in London, I waltzed with all manner of gentlemen to whom I am not in the least related.’
‘Then you must certainly waltz with me.’ Lord Lensborough ceased his contemplation of Lady Hester, and walked to Julia’s side. But his voice was gentle as he remarked, ‘And we will have the pleasure of hearing Lady Hester play, for the first time during my visit.’
Hester sank down on to the piano stool. Once Stephen had asked Phoebe for the dance, each lady who wished for it had a partner, and Hester struck up a waltz.
Her fingers caressed the keys softly as she followed the printed notes across the page. She was not mistaken, not this time. By upholding her decision to play the piano, Lord Lensborough had enabled her to avoid dancing without looking ridiculous.
Poor Em seemed to be suffering for her generous impulse to rescue her, though. She did not appear to be very good at waltzing. From time to time she heard Lionel mutter an oath as she stepped heavily upon one of his feet, and once, as they passed by her station at the piano, ‘Em, I swear you have all the grace of a performing elephant.’
‘I never claimed you would enjoy dancing with me,’ she retorted. ‘You cannot suppose I get a lot of practice at this sort of thing at the vicarage.’
‘You will never get much practice, wherever you go. No man would risk dancing with you a second time without the protection of hobnailed boots.’
As his back turned towards Hester, she could have sworn Em winked at her over his shoulder. Stifling the urge to giggle, Hester brought the piece to a conclusion.
The dancers applauded her playing, and negotiated for new partners. Lord Lensborough, having waltzed with one sister, quite properly asked Phoebe for the next one. Hester decided to perform a piece she could play from memory. For some reason she wanted to see how Lord Lensborough behaved with Phoebe, now that her opinion of his character had shifted somewhat.
How strange. He did not appear to be making much attempt at conversation. He looked, if anything, faintly bored. She frowned. Perhaps that tension about his mouth was not indicative of boredom, but something else. When he had danced with her, he had seemed far more relaxed. Even with Henrietta he had been more animated than this. It was only with Phoebe and Julia that he seemed so brooding.
Of course. He was on the verge of taking an irrevocable step, one that would affect his entire future. Though he had initially approached her cousins through a third party, he did now appear to be weighing the pros and cons of each prospective bride most carefully. Perhaps he took his duty to marry far more seriously than she had previously suspected.
As she watched the dancers swirling about the Great Hall, she noted with a frown that Em did not appear to be faring any better with her next partner, Mr Farrar. She had not stepped on his toes; indeed, he had her gliding about the room with a grace that seemed effortless, their steps perfectly matched.
But she was not enjoying herself. Her face was flushed. Knowing her as she did, Hester deduced Em was on the verge of losing her temper. Oh, dear, she hoped Mr Farrar was not teasing her in the manner he adopted with her cousins. They found it endearing, but Em detested flirting almost as much as Hester did. Moreover, she had very strong views about the dandy set, men, she had often stated vehemently, who lavished money on so shallow a thing as their own appearance, when there were families on the verge of starvation begging, unheeded, at their doors.
That waltz ended, but since her young cousins were clamouring for another, and Lady Gregory gave her permission, Hester struck up a third waltz tune.
Lord Lensborough became Em’s partner, and to set the seal on Hester’s confusion, promptly set about soothing her ruffled feathers, while Lionel managed to coax a smile out of Phoebe, who had come from Lensborough’s embrace looking thoroughly downcast.
The waltz, Hester concluded, was a dance that appeared to have the effect of turning everybody’s feelings upside down.
Sir Thomas declared that three waltzes on top of a set of energetic country dances was quite enough excitement for one evening, and that it was high time they removed to the drawing room, where light refreshments had been laid out.
Hester automatically began to tidy up the sheet music that was strewn across the piano lid.
It was only when Lionel materialised at her side she realised how careless she had been. With everyone else heading for the exit, she had given him an ideal opportunity to catch her on her own.
‘It is no use trying to avoid me, Hetty,’ he hissed ‘You know full well why I am here. I told you when the time was right I would come back and marry you.’
Marriage? No, not that. She would rather he blackmailed her!
He laid one hand on top of the piano, leaning over her seated form like a vulture hunched over its prey.
‘And here you are, still single, waiting for me.’
She fought the urge to cringe away from him, determined not to betray the sickening feeling of helplessness that roiled in her stomach.
‘Please move away from me,’ she managed to gasp.
Lionel laughed. ‘Why, Hetty, if I did not know you better, I would think you did not like me.’
‘I don’t.’ She forced the words between lips that were stiff with outrage. ‘And I won’t marry you.’
For an instant, as he straightened up abruptly with a curse, Hester feared he was going to strike her. It took a second or two to register that he had responded to the fact that Lord Lensborough was standing not five feet from them, with Em on his arm.
‘Miss Dean wishes to go home, Mr Snelgrove.’ His voice was icily polite. ‘She is not easy about leaving her father too long alone.’
‘It is quite a long walk across the park,’ she explained, her voice somewhat higher than usual, and far louder than it needed to be. ‘Papa will be worried if I return too late.’
Hester realised that the words were not intended so much for her, as Mr Farrar, who was standing behind the couple, looking every bit as furious as Mr Snelgrove.
‘Of course,’ Lionel replied, bowing stiffly to Hester. He escorted Em from the room, Stephen Farrar trailing moodily along behind them.
It was only once he had gone that reaction set in, and Hester began to tremble violently. She could not have got up and left the piano stool had her life depended on it. Head bowed, she waited till the trembling subsided, and it was not till she looked up that she discovered Lord Lensborough was waiting patiently some few feet away.
‘I…’ Her face flushed. She felt she owed him some explanation, but he curtailed her, shaking his head and merely holding out his arm with a rueful smile.
‘No explanations necessary. Allow me to escort you to the drawing room. You look as if you could do with a refreshing glass of lemonade.’
‘Thank you, my lord.’ She placed her hand on his arm, and rose shakily to her feet. ‘That would be most welcome.’
Lord Lensborough contented himself with walking Hester along the passage to the supper room in sympathetic silence. It would be crass to allude to the exchange he had overheard, unfeeling to talk of anything else as if he was unmindful of her emotional state.
They paused on the threshold, and he watched her face intently as she scanned the occupants of the room, her fingers tightening convulsively on his sleeve.
She looked at Julia and Phoebe, giggling together in a corner, cock-a-hoop because they had each waltzed with their intended. How little it took to set them in alt! There sat Henrietta, gazing up at her husband with foolish, untrammelled devotion, basking in the glow of impending motherhood.
Even her aunt and uncle were locked in a little world of their own, side by side on a sofa, sipping tea from matching china cups.