The room where the dancing was to take place would probably appear small and plainly decorated in comparison with any London ballroom, Susanna guessed when they entered it. It was certainly smaller and plainer than the Upper a.s.sembly Rooms in Bath, to which she had taken a party of girls from the school on a sightseeing walk one afternoon. But these rooms were full of people she knew and felt comfortable with, and everyone was dressed smartly for the evening. The noise level was high with the excited voices of ladies and young girls and the hearty, booming voices of men trying to talk above them. There was a great deal of laughter everywhere. And the orchestra members were making their own contribution to the noise as they tuned their instruments on a small dais at one end of the room.
It all appeared splendidly dazzling to Susanna.
She was at her first balla"in her mind she called it that even if strictly speaking it was but an a.s.sembly. And she was going to dance.
The earl had asked her to reserve at least one set for him, though he had not spoken for any one in particular. Mr. Dannen, at the end of yesterdayas picnic, had solicited her hand for the all-important opening set.
And Viscount Whitleaf had asked her for the first waltz.
She could hardly wait for that particular seta"there was to be only one. And yet even as the impatient thought entered her mind she chastised herself. This was sure to be the most exciting evening of her life. She would not wish the first half of it away. She wanted to live every moment of it, from first to last.
Mrs. Raycroft and her daughter came to meet them as soon as they appeared in the doorway, and Miss Raycroft exclaimed with awe over Francesas gown and admired Susannaas hair, which Frances had insisted her own maid dress for the evening.
aAnd is that the ribbon you bought in the village shop?a she asked, surveying the hem of Susannaas pale green gown, about which the darker green ribbon had been sewn in two rows. aIt gleams in the candlelight, does it not? It looks very smart. Viscount Whitleaf told us you had purchased it.a aMy gown needed to be made more festive for the occasion,a Susanna explained. aI have never worn it to a ball before.a After that all was a whirlwind of activity and excitement as neighbors greeted neighbors and gentlemen searched out their partners for the opening set.
Susanna had been forced to admit in the privacy of her own heart that she found Mr. Dannen something of a bore. They had spent several hours in each otheras company during the past two weeks, but she doubted he knew anything about her except that she was a schoolteacher from Bath. She, on the other hand, knew surely all there was to know about his Scottish ancestors and heritage.
But her lack of romantic interest in him really did not matter at all as he led her out onto the floor and placed her in the line of ladies while he took his place opposite her among the gentlemen for the opening set of country dances. There had surely never been a happier moment. The eldest Miss Calvert stood to her left, opposite Mr. Raycroft, and Rosamond Raycroft stood next to Miss Calvert. Viscount Whitleaf, across from her, smiled indulgently and said something that had her laughing merrily. Briefly he caught Susannaas eye, but he was too polite to withdraw his attention from his partner for longer than a moment or two.
Just feeling him close filled Susanna with an even warmer glow of happiness.
But soon she had thoughts for nothing except the dance as the orchestra struck up with the music and the line of gentlemen bowed while the line of ladies curtsied.
Music filled her ears as the floor vibrated to the rhythmic thumping of many feet and dancers twirled and promenaded and circled about one another. The air grew warmer and heavier with the mingled scents of perfumes and colognes and flowers. The very candles in the candelabrum and wall sconces seemed to move with a lilting rhythm in time to the music.
And she was a part of it all.
Ah, she was a part of it all.
She would perhaps have felt some disappointment when the set came to an end except that Mr. Raycroft had already asked her before it began if she would dance the second with him. And the earl claimed the third set.
By the end of that she was feeling flushed and warm and breathlessa"and wanted the evening never to end. Mr. Finn approached and asked for the fourth set, but when he came she was seated beside Miss Honeydew, who was fanning herself and looking rather faint and admitted when Susanna asked that she had not eaten anything since luncheon. Susanna thanked Mr. Finn and asked if he would excuse her and then took Miss Honeydew into the refreshment room, fetched her a cup of tea and a plate of food, and sat with her while she ate, her foot tapping out the rhythm of the dance music coming from the other room.
But she did not mind missing the dance. Mr. Crossley had already asked for the next, and the one after that was to be the waltz.
Viscount Whitleaf was looking extremely handsome tonight in a brown tailed evening coat with ivory satin breeches, a dull gold embroidered waistcoat, and white, crisp linen. He was also, Susanna had noticed, a graceful dancer and one who looked as if he were enjoying himself. Whenever she glanced at him, he was smiling, his eyes on his partner. His partners, of course, were ecstatic.
Mr. Crossley led Susanna toward Mrs. Raycroft at the end of the next set and stood conversing with them there while Viscount Whitleaf and Frances, who had been dancing together, approached across the floor. Susanna fanned her hot cheeks and watched him come. How very much she liked him.
aGoodness,a Frances said, athat was a vigorous dance. I am quite robbed of breath. Thank you, Lord Whitleaf.a aMaaam?a He bowed. aIt was entirely my pleasure.a aBut I simply must recover my breath quickly,a she said. aThe waltz is next and I have been looking forward to it for longer than a week. So has Lucius.a The Earl of Edgecombe was striding across the floor toward them, his eyes on Frances.
Viscount Whitleaf made Susanna a slight bow.
aThis is my dance, Miss...o...b..urne, I believe,a he said.
aIt is, my lord.a She curtsied and discovered that the evening really could turn brighter and even more exciting.
aDo you waltz, Miss...o...b..urne?a Mr. Crossley asked her, sounding surprised and even perhaps a little disapproving.
aI know the steps, sir,a she said. aI learned them at schoola"from a dancing master who is a stickler for doing all things correctly.a aHe is indeed,a Frances agreed.
aI have even given permission for Rosamond to waltz with Mr. Moss,a Mrs. Raycroft said, asince both my son and Viscount Whitleaf have a.s.sured me that it is danced at Almackas. And if you are to waltz, Lady Edgecombe, then it must be unexceptionable.a aWe fell in love with the waltz the first time we danced it together,a the Earl of Edgecombe said. aIt was in an a.s.sembly room not unlike this, was it not, Frances?a Mr. Crossley was silenced.
Viscount Whitleaf held out a hand and Susanna placed her own on top of it. He led her out onto the empty dance floor. They were the first there. They could probably have waited five minutes longer, but, oh, she was glad he had not waited. This was the moment she had antic.i.p.ated eagerly ever since he had asked her yesterday. She was going to waltz. With him. The happiness of it all was almost too much to bear.
aWell?a he said when they were alone togethera"though they were, of course, surrounded by their fellow guests. aWhat is your verdict on your first a.s.sembly? Not that I really need to ask, I believe.a aIt is that obvious?a She pulled a face. aBut I really do think it is splendid, and I do not care how gauche I sound to you. This is my very first balla"at the age of twenty-threea"and I am not even going to pretend to be indifferent to it all.a aAh, but it is splendid,a he said, holding her eyes with his owna"as he had done with each of his partners. aFar more splendid, in fact, than any other ball or a.s.sembly I have ever attended in my twenty-six years.a Which was a Banbury tale if ever she had heard one. She laughed again.
aOh, but I believe you did not complete that thought,a she said. aWere you not supposed to add that it is more wonderful because I am here?a aI was going to say that,a he told her, abut I thought you would accuse me of flattery and flirtation.a aIndeed I would,a she said. aBut really, are you enjoying yourself? I know that all the other young ladies are thrilled that you are here.a aThe other young ladies,a he said, setting one hand over his heart. aNot you too?a But she laughed and fanned her face. Talking nonsense, even mildly flirting, could be enjoyable after all, she thought, when both parties were well aware that it was nonsense they spoke.
aI will remember this,a she said, aall my life.a aThis a.s.sembly?a he asked her. aOr this waltz?a The smile was arrested on her face for a moment.
aBoth, I hope,a she said. aUnless I fall all over your feet during the waltz. But then I suppose I would remember all the more.a Other couples were gathering around them. The orchestra members were tuning their instruments again.
aIf you fall over my feet,a he said, ait will be because of my unpardonable clumsiness and I shall atone by going home and burning my dancing shoes. No, correction. I shall atone by burning my dancing shoes and then walking home.a She laughed once more.
And then stopped laughing.
He had set his right hand behind her waist and taken her right hand in his left. She lifted her left hand to set on his shoulder. She could smell his cologne. She could feel his body heat. She could hear her heartbeat throbbing in her ears.
His violet eyes gazed very directly into her owna"they smiled slightly.
Ah, she thought, the magic of it.
The sheer wonderful magic.
Then the music began.
It occurred to her afterward that a number of other couples had taken to the floor with them. She even had one fleeting memory of seeing the Earl of Edgecombe twirling Frances about one corner of the room, holding her rather closer than Mr. Huckerby would approve of. She could recall the swirling colors of the ladiesa gowns, the warm glow of the candles, the sounds of voices and laughter, the sight of a number of people gathered at the sidelines, watching.
But at the time she was oblivious to it all. She was aware only of the music and the dance and the man who held her. She performed the steps faultlessly if a little woodenly for the first couple of minutes, and she held her body stiff and as far distant from his as the positioning of their arms allowed. But then came the moment when she raised her eyes from his intricately tied neckcloth to look into his own eyesa"and he smiled at her and she relaxed.
aOh,a she said a little breathlessly, aI do remember how.a aAnd so,a he said, ado I. I hope I live up to the exacting standards of your Mr. Huckerby.a She laughed. aYes, I would have to say you do.a They did not speak after that, but it seemed to her afterward that they gazed into each otheras eyes the whole time they danced. It ought to have caused intense discomfort. Gazing into another personas eyes from such a short distance even when conversing always gave her the urge to take a step back or to glance away from time to time. But she felt no such urge with Viscount Whitleaf. They danced, it seemed to her, as if they were one harmonious unit.
She remembered the quickly suppressed mental image she had had almost two weeks ago of waltzing in his arms. That dream had come true after all.
And, ah, it was exhilarating beyond words.
But it could not last forever, of course. Eventually she could sense that the music was coming to an end.
aOh,a she said, ait is over.a She had been quite unaware of the pa.s.sing of time.
aBut it was lovely,a she added after the music had stopped altogether. aThank you, my lord. Will you take me to Frances?a She must not be greedy, she told herself. She might well have been doomed to watch everyone else waltz while she pretended to be enjoying herself as an onlooker. She would always have this memory of her firsta"and probably her lasta"waltz.
aIt is customary, you know,a he said, leaning his head a little closer to hers, afor a man to lead his partner at the supper dance into the refreshment room. Will you take supper with me?a aIs it suppertime already?a she asked as she looked about to see that yes, indeed, the room was fast emptying. aOh, I am so glad. Yes, I will. Thank you.a And so, she thought happily as he led her off to the refreshment room, her half hour with him was to be extended, even if they were to sit with other people.
What a very precious evening this was. With only three days left of her stay at Barclay Court, it had become a fitting finale for a memorable holiday.
Though there were still three days left.
9.
Peter found them two seats wedged between the teapot and the window before going to the food table. One thing a person could always count upon at a country a.s.sembly, he thought appreciatively as he filled plates for them both, was plenty of good food.
aWhere will you go when you leave here?a Miss...o...b..urne asked him after he had set down their plates and fetched some tea and seated himself opposite her at their small table. aWill you go home?a aTo Sidley Park?a he said. aNot immediately. I do not wish to intrude upon the end of my motheras latest house party there.a aThere is a house party at your own home, yet you are not there to host it?a She raised her eyebrows as she selected a small cuc.u.mber sandwich and bit into it.
aThe thing is,a he said, athat my mother is desperately trying to marry me off. There is someone there whom she wishes me to courta"and all the other guests would have been well aware of the fact if I had gone there.a aYou do not wish to marry?a she asked him.
aI most certainly do not,a he a.s.sured her. aOr at least, I do not wish to be trapped into a marriage not entirely of my own choosing.a Her eyes laughed into his.
aI absolutely do not want my mother choosing my bride,a he said.
aI daresay,a she said, ashe loves you.a aShe does,a he agreed. aBut love can sometimes be a burden, you know. She first tried to marry me off when I was twenty-one years old and still wet behind the ears.a aYou did not love the girl?a she asked.
aI did.a He grimaced. aI was head-over-ears in love with hera"because I was expected to be, of course. I was a c.o.c.ky boy, Miss...o...b..urne, and was thoroughly convinced that I was my own man. But in reality I did everything I was expected to do. I thought I loved her.a aBut you did not really?a She set one elbow on the table against all the rules of etiquette and rested her chin in her hand. She gazed steadily at him. aWhat happened?a Oh, good Lord, he was not prepared to go there with her. He smiled, though the expression felt somewhat crooked.
aOne could say that I had an awakening,a he said. aIt was really quite spectacular. I woke up one morning an innocent, cheerful babe, my head in the clouds, stars in my eyes, and I went to bed that same night a cynical old man, with my eyes opened to all the ugly realities of life. My almost-engagement was the biggest casualty. The woman I had loved so devotedly but no longer loved at all left the next morning with her family and I never saw any of them again. Fortunately, they live far to the north of England and seem never to come near London. Though I did hear that she married less than six months later.a The loss of Bertha was not the biggest casualty, though, was it? His relationship with his mother was that. He had never been what can only be described as a motheras boy, but he had loved her totally. She had been perfect in his eyes. When all was said and done, though, all he had really discovered about her on that day was that she was human.
And dash it all, had he actually been talking about that event, no matter how vaguely, to Susanna Osbourne? He never spoke about that episode. He rarely even thought about it. He grinned sheepishly at her.
aI was left with a rather rakish reputation as a breaker of female hearts,a he said. aEntirely undeserved. She did not have a heart.a She continued to gaze at him.
aAnd so my motheras ongoingaconcern over my marital statea"or my unmarital statea"is a continual burden,a he said, athough she means well.a aOneas family can be a burden,a she said softly, aeven if oneas mother died at oneas birth and oneas father died when one was twelve.a His eyes sharpened on hers, but she was gazing through him rather than at him, he thought.
aWas there no other family for you,a he asked her, aon either side?a It had seemed strange to him, when he thought about it after the picnic, that the Markhams had not found anyone of her own to take her ina"or, failing that, that they had not done something themselves to make provision for her. She had been only twelve years old, for the love of G.o.d. And he had never thought of the Markhams as heartless people. What the devil had she been doing alone in London, looking for employment at the age of twelve?
aI do not really know,a she said, her eyes focusing on him again. aMy father hadaquarreled with his family and would never even talk about them whenever I asked. He would never talk about my mother or her family either. Perhaps, like me, he did not enjoy memories of the past.a Who did when those memories were painful? And yet it seemed odd, even cruel, that Osbourne had not told his daughter anything about her heritage. Perhaps he had not expected to die young. No one did really, did they? Perhaps he had had no warning of his impending heart seizure. And so Susanna Osbourne had no one. Her mother had died at her birth, and Osbourne had told her nothing that would in any way have brought her mother alive for her. In her childhood dreams she had never been able to put a face on her mothera"even an imaginary one.
He must remember Susanna Osbourne the next time he thought to complain about the number of sistersa and niecesa and nephewsa birthdays he was expected to remember.
aWill you go home after the house party is over, then?a she asked.
aI planned to go home the very day after I met you,a he said. aFinally, after five years of being away from it as much as I could, I was going back. But a couple of hours before you and I met I had my motheras letter telling me of the house party she had planned in my honora"complete with eligible marriage prospect.a aAnd so you are not going after all?a she asked.
He shrugged. Was he going to go? He was no longer sure. Sidley was his motheras home as well as his, as it had been since her marriage to his father. And she ruled it with firm efficiency as she always had done. He was not sure they could both live there nowa"he was no longer her biddable little boy. He was even less sure, though, that he was prepared to ask her to leave or even insist that she make her home in the dower house at Sidley.
She was his mother. And cruelty had never come easily to him.
aYour finest a.s.set and your greatest problem,a Susanna Osbourne said, ais that you are very kind.a He realized, startled, that he had spoken his thoughts out loud.
aThat sounds very like weakness,a he said, embarra.s.sed, as he tackled the food on his plate.
aKindness is not weakness,a she said firmly.
aIt was kind to stay away from her party?a he asked.
She gazed at him, her chin in her hand again. The food on her plate had hardly been touched, he noticed. She sighed.
aWhat you need,a she said, ais a dragon to slay.a He chuckled. aAnd a helpless maiden to rescue?a aTell me your dreams,a she said.
aThose bizarre wisps of things that flit through my head when I am asleep?a he asked, grinning at her.
But she did not smile back. She would not allow him to make light of the question.
aYour dreams,a she said.
He pushed his plate away from him and thought for a few moments.
aThey are not grand things at all,a he said. aI dream of tramping about my own land with a stout staff in my hand and dogs panting at my heels. I dream of knowing the land from the inside out, working it, knowing the feel of its soil between my fingers, the thrill of seeing crops I have helped plant poke green and fragile above the earth. I dream of knowing my workers and their families, of knowing their dreams and working with them to bring harmony to all our lives and aspirations. I dream of being master of my own home and my own life at last. I dream of knowing my neighbors in such a way that I can drop in on them at any time of the day or evening or they can feel free to drop in on me without any discomfort. I dream of a time when being Viscount Whitleaf does not set me apart from most other mortals who live in the vicinity of my home. Therea"is that enough?a aYes,a she said, smiling. aI am glad you convinced me that we could be friends. I am glad to have known you. I like you.a He felt strangely touched by her words.
aWell, now.a He laughed softly. aThat is praise indeed. Miss Susanna Osbourne likes me.a She sat back in her chair and lowered her hands to her lap.
aI was not being sarcastic,a he told her. aI have always a.s.sumed that most people of my acquaintance like mea"I do not believe I am a difficult fellow to get along with. But I do not recall anyoneas actually saying so. The words coming from you warm my hearta"that pumping organ in my chest.a Her smile held genuine amus.e.m.e.nt this time.
aTell me your dreams,a he said.
She looked instantly wistful.
aOh,a she said, aI have no dreams, really. I am contented with what I have.a aIf that is true,a he told her, ait is the saddest thing I have heard in a long while. We all need dreams. But I do not believe that you have none. I can see from your eyes that you have plenty.a aFrom my eyes?a She looked suddenly wary. aEyes cannot speak.a aThere you are wrong, Miss Literalist,a he said. aEyes can be very eloquent indeed, yours more than most. Tell me your dreams. I have told you mine, and we are friends, are we not? I am not likely to shout with derision or stand on my chair to announce your secret dreams to the whole company.a aThey are as humble as yours,a she said, smiling again. aA home of my own. I lived in someone elseas house for my first twelve years and since then I have lived at the school in Bath. I dream of a home of my own in a place like this, where there are neighbors and friends. It does not have to be large. A cottage would suffice. And a small garden where I could grow flowers and vegetables and create beauty and plenty around me. AndaOh, and my ultimate dream.a She stopped and bit her lower lip. But she continued when he said nothing.
aA husband and a few children, a family of my own to cherish and be loved by,a she said. aI do not dream of wealth or grandeura"only of love. There, you did insist. Those are my dreams.a And they were indeed humble ones. No woman, he thought, should be denied her own home and family if she wished for them, and yet she believed they were impossible dreams for her. Were they? She was beautiful beyond belief and sweet-natured. And yet where, apart from here, would she ever go to meet eligible men? Perhaps he coulda But no. He could not. He certainly could not. There was no point in beginning to plot or scheme. BesidesaWell, besides nothing.
Both their cups of tea, he noticed suddenly, had a grayish film of coldness covering the surface. Both their plates were still almost full of food.
aLet me get you a fresh cup of tea,a he suggested.
But her face showed surprise when she looked beyond him and, glancing over his shoulder, he could see that they were alone. Sounds of music and merriment were coming from the main room. The final set of the evening was already in progress.
aGood Lord!a he exclaimed. aAre you engaged to dance this set?a aNo,a she said.
aNeither am I,a he said in some relief. aIt is exceedingly warm in here, is it not?a aYes,a she said.
aShall we stroll outside,a he suggested, auntil everyone else is ready to leave?a She hesitated for only a moment.
aThat would be pleasant,a she said.
And so five minutes later they were strolling along the village street, past the crush of carriages and servants waiting to pick up their respective pa.s.sengers, past the shop, the churchyard, and the vicarage, and the church itself. She had taken his arm, and after a few minutes he clasped her hand in his, lacing their fingers and pressing her arm to his side.
aBeing here for these last two weeks has reminded me of how very much more I enjoy the country than London or Brighton or any other large center,a he said. aI think I really must go home as soon as my motheras house party has ended. Perhaps I will not have missed the whole of the harvest. And perhapsaWell, never mind.a aPerhaps,a she said, ayour dream really will come true one day soon. I hope so. You belong with people like these.a aI would not have enjoyed these two weeks half as much, though, if I had not met you,a he told her, and was surprised by the sincerity of his words. They were the sort of empty, meaningless words he usually spoke when flirting aThe two weeks are not quite at an end,a she said. aThere are still three days left. Oh, dear, only three days.a Her tone was wistful. After those three days for her, of course, there was only a return to school and work to look forward toa"though he knew from what she had said on other occasions that she genuinely enjoyed teaching. He knew tooa"she had just admitted ita"that the idea of teaching for the rest of her life fell far short of her dreams.
They had stopped outside the church, in the shadow of an elm tree.
aDo you wish you could stay longer, then?a he asked.