He held his mother’s challenging gaze a moment, and Sophie feared he might continue to argue. Beneath the table, Sophie reached over and gave his arm a gentle squeeze.
He cleared his throat. “Well, I... suppose a dinner would be harmless.”
“Can we have dancing, Mamma?” Kate asked eagerly. “I’ve had all those lessons and have never been to a real ball. Please, Mamma, can we?”
“Now, Kate. No one said anything about a ball,” Captain Overtree protested.
Kate turned to her. “You do like to dance, Sophie. Say you do?”
“Well, I...” She glanced at Captain Overtree’s scowl, then away. “I don’t dislike it.”
“Have you never been to a ball either?”
“Oh, I have danced in the Bath assembly rooms several times.”
“The Bath assembly rooms...” Kate breathed. “Is it as marvelous as they say? Crystal chandeliers, fashionable ladies and gentlemen by the score, presided over by a dour master of ceremonies?”
“Yes, all of that. But such a crush it is difficult to move, let alone dance. Especially at the height of the Bath season.”
“Please, Mamma, we must have dancing,” Kate said. “For Sophie.”
Sophie shot another nervous glance at her husband. “It isn’t up to me, Kate. I would be more than content with whatever your mother thinks best.”
“Well, there’s no harm in a few dances after dinner,” Mrs. Overtree decided. “Those who wish to dance may, and those that don’t may sit down to tea and coffee, or cards.”
“Shall we have musicians, Mamma? We have that dusty old gallery that no one ever uses.”
“I don’t know that we need to hire musicians for a few country dances, Katherine. Perhaps you girls might take turns at the pianoforte.”
“No, Mamma, please. Then we shan’t be able to dance.”
“I am afraid I don’t play,” Sophie quietly admitted.
“No? What a pity.”
“And we must have more gentlemen, Mamma,” Kate said. “I don’t want to dance with my father all night. Pray do not be offended, Papa.”
“Indeed I am not.”
“I don’t know that your father shall feel equal to dancing in any case,” Mrs. Overtree said.
“I’m not dead yet,” Mr. Overtree retorted. “I think I can manage a sedate dance or two, though I shall leave the reels to the younger men.”
Kate turned to Sophie and explained, “Unfortunately our neighborhood has a dearth of young gentlemen and an overabundance of young ladies.”
Carlton Keith, Sophie noticed, had remained silent through the talk of dancing. And little wonder, she supposed, with his disability.
“Angela’s brother might come,” Kate suggested. “Though now that he is engaged to marry, I suppose we would have to invite his intended as well, so that wouldn’t help our numbers.” She asked her brother, “Have you no friends in the area, Stephen?”
“I am afraid my friends are primarily military men like myself and are away from home, as I should be.” He rectified, “Were it not for Grandfather’s kind influence, that is.”
Kate looked at her mother. “You will invite Mr. Harrison, I trust?”
Mrs. Overtree opened her mouth to reply, then pressed her thin lips together, thinking the better of whatever she’d been about to say. “We shall discuss the invitation list later, Katherine. Let’s leave it for now.”
Mr. Keith set down his glass with a sardonic grin. “And what am I, Miss Katherine? Yesterday’s rubbish? No doubt all the ladies will be clamoring to dance with me, the one-armed wonder. To grasp this empty sleeve.”
Everyone froze, forks or glasses midway to mouths. Kate’s face reddened, and Sophie felt embarrassed for Mr. Keith’s sake and for all of them. Had they discounted him so thoroughly as a man, or had they sought not to mention him out of polite sensitivity? Sophie wasn’t sure, but awkward unease hung heavy in the dining room, as glances shifted one to another.
