Out of the corner of her eye, she glanced in Alexander’s direction. He seemed to enjoy himself. After all, why wouldn’t he? He was dancing with a lovely lady who was not once an orphan, a lady whom he might seriously consider as someone to marry. She wondered if her past would be a hindrance on her way to good marital prospects. The late earl, God rest his soul, had truly done everything in his power to facilitate her way into this world, but it seemed that no matter how much she tried, she never felt as if she truly belonged here. Her place was out there, in the streets, helping those who were once in need, just like she was. Being here at this ball was nothing but a waste of time, time that could be spent much better by helping–
“Did I lose you again?” Percival wondered.
“No, I apologize,” she smiled, realizing that she was walking that fine although very thin line between seeming aloof and downright rude for not paying attention to her dance partner. “It is just that this is my first ball in a long time, and I feel like I forgot everything that one needs to do not to offend those around them.”
“I can hardly imagine you offending anyone.”
“That is very kind of you to say,” she smiled back, realizing now why women must have considered him to be so handsomely charming.
“I would like to say so many things to you, Marjorie,” he continued as they were whirling, him being slightly taller than she was, so their measurements fit in accordingly. Every time the dance steps required her to come closer to him, she wondered if perhaps he might be considered a good marital prospect.
Without thinking, she turned to the side and again, her eyes beheld Alexander with that other woman in his arms.
“How do your friends call you?” Percival suddenly wondered. “You see, I am Percy for my friends and family. And hopefully, I can be Percy, to you as well.”
He spun her, as they whirled back to their designated spot. She had to admit that he was a good dancer. Ever since the dear, late earl had taught her all the dances she needed to know as a young lady, she had come to love the sound of the orchestral music and always swayed to the rhythm with her eyes closed, listening not only with her ears but also with her heart. That was the true way one listened to music.
“Are we friends?” she asked, every few steps remembering that she had not danced in ages, but to her, dancing was something she could never forget. Almost like riding a horse, if she could ride a horse, of course. That was one thing that the late earl could not teach her, as she was dreadfully scared of being on one.
“Are we not?” he snickered.
She did not particularly like that reply. “What is my favorite book?”
“I beg your pardon?” he asked, not expecting that question.
She would not be dissuaded. She recognized the final sounds of the music and welcomed the notion that the dance would end soon.
“You asked are we not friends,” she reminded him. “If we were friends, you would know my favorite book, would you not?”
He twirled her and that provided them both with a pause before their next response. Once again, she caught sight of Alexander, the way he spun that lady around, going down the line, facing her, then turning away from her. Unwilling to admit it, she still knew what the color in her cheeks meant. She wanted to have a different dance partner. She wanted to be in place of that lady who seemed to be having too much fun.
“I feel like perhaps we have started on the wrong foot,” Percival avoided answering her question.
“I am simply direct,” Marjorie explained. “Also, I lack the qualities that probably would deem me a proper lady. I do not giggle at something that I truly do not find funny. And as I offer directness, that is what I appreciate in conversation with another as well.”
That seemed to leave him stunned, and Marjorie knew that if he did like her to begin with, that was all over and done with now. She was direct, yes. But as Edith liked to point out, she was overly direct sometimes, and that was certainly not a character trait of a true lady.
The music ended. He bowed courteously. She did the same, curtsying. He offered her his arm, and she accepted, as he led her back to the table where he had found her.
“If I crossed a line, I apologize,” he said, and this time, it was her turn to be surprised. She was not expecting an entire apology, yet there it was. Perhaps she had been too harsh on the gentleman who, truth be told, truly did not do anything so dreadfully wrong.
“It is all right,” she smiled. “I may have overreacted myself.”
“Should we agree to start this conversation anew?” He flashed her one of his most charming smiles.
“Why not?” She smiled back.
“Why, it is so lovely to see you again, Miss. Marjorie, it has truly been ages,” he grinned.
“Why, indeed, it has,” she couldn’t resist chuckling.
“May I have this next d– ”
But before he could finish his thought, someone patted him on the shoulder.
“Percival, old boy! Where have you been hiding all this time?” The merry, overly familiar voice belonged to someone Marjorie was not acquainted with, so she curtsied quickly once again, before removing herself from sight, leaving an obviously disappointed Percival to deal with the intruder.
She had not been here an hour, and already, it was all starting to seem too overwhelming. She found her way through the crowd and out onto the terrace. The night breeze felt calming on her flaring cheeks. She felt as if she had been the object of everyone’s scrutiny, like an impostor who knew that he had no place being there. Only, there was nowhere else for her to be. She was doing this not only for herself, but for Alexander as well. She felt like she did not owe him much, but she did owe his father everything. That was why she had to express her gratitude to the earl’s family by aiding his son in any way she could.
