Chapter One
The first ball of the Season, 1796
“Lady Eleanor Courtenay and her mother, Lady Hanley.”
Ellen nearly tripped down the stairs when she heard how the majordomo had announced them. It was sheer effort of will that kept a smile on her face as she descended the stairs looking out over the sea of people milling about in the large ballroom.
A million thoughts raced through her mind even as she fought to keep a grimace from her face when she reached the crowds below with her mother at her side. It wasn’t quite as she had expected. No one had warned her that it might not be the most pleasant smelling environment she had ever been in. It wasn’t dreadful, of course, but in her many imaginings, somehow she had expected it to smell fresh and clean, perhaps like citrus fruit, which was an even more ridiculous thought than the rest that had preceded it. But the ridiculous thought helped her not make a cake of herself over the way she had been announced.
It was just that she had been so excited about making her debut. Having trained and practiced all the dance steps to every possible dance since before she could toddle, she had been very much looking forward to doing so at a real, proper ball. She and her mother had poured over fashion plates for hours deciding on what she ought to wear. Besides the practical aspects of making her debut, Ellen had also learned to draw, and paint, and perform all the possible needlework that a noblewoman could be required to do, besides how to plan a menu and run a household.
But in all her preparations, she had given no thought to how she would be announced. And now, what everyone she met was going to call her. A shudder made its way through her at the very thought. Eleanor. How grotesque. She had only ever been called that when her governess had been especially cross with her or if one of her sisters was trying to be particularly beastly. Ellen wondered what in the name of all that was holy her parents were thinking when they had settled upon that name for their newborn daughter.
Of course, it was to appease some long dead relative, Ellen was certain. But that didn’t do her any good. Now she was going to have to grin and bear it, though she wasn’t sure if she could. The very thought curdled her stomach.
“Stop frowning,” Mama insisted from her side even while maintaining her own smile.
“How could you have told them my name was Eleanor?”
There was the briefest pause. “Well, thatisyour name.” Mama’s tone was that one of reasonable patience that only a mother could adopt. Ellen reminded herself that growling would be less than lady-like. It was also time to remind herself that while it might be Mama’s fault she had such a dreadful name, it wasn’t her fault that Ellen hated it so very much.
Eleanor might have been the name her parents had been so misguided as to appoint her with upon her birth, but no one actually ever called her that. She was Ellen with friends and family alike. And it hadn’t even crossed Ellen’s mind to consider that Society might not know that.
It was mortifying. Was she to be Eleanor now for the rest of her life? If all these new acquaintances became a part of her future life, they wouldn’t know that she loathed the name. How horrid. And how short sighted that she hadn’t anticipated this. With the amount of thought and planning that had been put into making her debut, she should have seen this coming.
Ellen hated to be caught by surprise. She wanted all her surprises to be well planned out. And she couldn’t give a fig if that was contradictory. It was how she felt, and there was no persuading her otherwise.
Now there was a gentleman bowing over her hand and being introduced to her.
“Good evening, Lady Eleanor, it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”
Ellen wanted to throw a very uncharacteristic tantrum to vent the feelings welling up within herself. But of course, she couldn’t do that. She was well aware that she was being ridiculous, but her feelings were her feelings even if no one could quite sympathize with them. Instead of giving way to her contrary emotions, she smiled at the man. She had been far too upset to catch his name. She rather thought it had been mister something. Not lord. That might suit her just fine, she thought.
What an odd conundrum. To be assessing each gentleman she met as a possible husband. Did she want to marry a lord? She should have given that more thought.
Ellen had thought she had prepared well for her Season. It would now seem that she hadn’t considered any of the most important factors. But then she was being swept into the flow of her first dance at her first ball of her first Season, and she was able to leave those concerns to the side for the time being.
Really her first dance ought to have been with her father or her brother. But Lord Hanley and Baron Hastings had both remained behind at Hanley House to deal with a problem with one of their herds. Her father, the Earl of Hanley, dearly loved to take his Seat in the House. It had been a surprise to all in the family when he had allowed his wife and daughter to travel up to Town without him. And so, here Ellen was taking her first dance with someone whose name she couldn’t even recall.
She refused to consider it a disaster, though, reminding herself of her determination to have a brilliant Season. She might not be a Diamond of the First Waters, but Ellen knew she was acceptably pretty. That, accompanied by the fact that she had a reasonable dowry, would ensure that she ought to be a success. If anyone could forgive the fact that she had been saddled with the unfortunate name of Eleanor and she was dressed in the most casual of current fashion, that was.
That was one more point of disfavor for this rather inauspicious start to her debut. It had been a massive disappointment for her that hoops and panniers were no longer the fashion, but she had to admit the style of gowns that were now popular were far more comfortable than those previous styles would have been.
She couldn’t accept that the current styles were more elegant. To Ellen’s mind they seemed almost like nightrails. As she glanced around at the other ladies, she was not disabused of this thought. Very much more comfortable than navigating a hoop through a crowded ballroom, but far too casual to be called elegant in her mind. But her older sister had assured her that she wasn’t violating any Society standards by adopting the new styles. In fact, Theodora had assured her, if she turned up anywhere but the queen’s drawing room in the old styles, she would be ridiculed all the way back to their village. And so, Ellen had accepted the styles and had ordered the gowns and had practiced the steps and done all the things a young lady could do to prepare for her first Season. And yet it was a great big flop.
Pasting a smile to her lips, Ellen reprimanded herself for being a ninny. She couldn’t throw away the delight of her first official ball as a debutante by lamenting what might have been.
Despite her unfortunate name, this nice gentleman had asked her to dance. She ought to be making the most of the opportunity.
“I apologize, but I did not catch from where you hail.” She rather thought that was a brilliant way of trying to figure out who he might be.
The gentleman smiled kindly at her. “Cornwall, my lady.”
Ellen’s lips twitched. That wasn’t the least bit informative since Cornwall encompassed nearly a quarter of the country.
“Have you been in Town long?”
She thought of asking if he took a Seat in the House but if he was a mister as she suspected, that wasn’t terribly likely unless he was someone’s proxy. But then he surprised her by being a trifle more informative.
