Clare skipped away, humming. She'd walked around all day, holding Kit's hand and introducing him as her papa to all and sundry, which included not only all the house guests, but also the butler, the footman, a housemaid, and the groom. She hadn't discriminated between people and chatted to all with equal volubility.
"It is nice that I have finally found my papa," she declared to anyone who would listen. "Because he was lost for a very long time."
Much to Kit's relief, she did not seem to mind that he was no longer a blacksmith but a marquess.
"She is entirely unspoiled. Such an adorable little poppet," Evie said. "I hope to have a little girl like her one day. But first," she pulled her face into a grimace, "I must obey my brother's decree and marry the old man."
After Clare had retired to the nursery without a single complaint, Mira asked, "What was it you said to her?"
"I told her that if she comes out into the gallery when they play the waltz, wearing her pretty dress, I shall dance with her. But only that one waltz, and afterwards she is to return to Miss Pearson in the nursery."
Mira smiled. "She already has you firmly wrapped around her little finger, I see."
"Not just her, but her mother too." He leaned down to whisper, "There will be a second waltz right after that, one I will dance only with you, my lady."
Mira wore a beautiful blue gown,which her abigail seemed to have conjured up out of thin air. Over a satin blue slip was a sarsenet overdress, tied with a wine-red ribbon.
She had never worn anything so beautiful before.
Kit looked breathtaking in his evening wear, which seemed to be moulded to his frame.
Yet as she stood next to him at the ballroom entrance, she gripped his arm tighter than she normally would.
Kit understood immediately. "All you have to do is take a deep breath," he murmured into her ear, "and just let them talk. Nod whenever they say something, even if you don't understand what they're talking about. Smile and nod or even better, look slightly bored and do not reply to anything at all. That usually works and they will leave you alone. But as this is a ball, there will be little talking and more dancing, one would assume. I usually just do what Aldingbourne does. That seems to work best."
"If I were to imitate Evie, I am not so sure it would be for the best," Mira said.
Evie had dispensed with all sense of etiquette and was about to dance with two gentlemen simultaneously, one on each arm, when her brother came bearing down on her to take her away to dance with her himself.
Mira, who'd observed the interlude, commented, "I thought that was what this little dancing card was for, to keep track of who one danced with, to avoid situations like that." She took a little booklet out of her reticule. "It will take some getting used to, because at the assembly in Fowey we could just dance with whoever we wanted, remember? I also heard young ladies have to obtain permission to waltz. Why must things be so strict when it comes to dancing, especially when it is meant to be entertaining?"
"I haven't the faintest idea, my love. Perhaps you should ask Aldingbourne; he usually has the answer to such questions. But show me your dancing card."
She handed it to him, and he studied it with a frown. "Please give me that pencil."
She handed him the pencil and he scratched out the names in the booklet and replaced them with his own. "There. All the dances are with me, except the one with Clare, and a country dance which you may dance with Aldingbourne. I am a jealous husband and will not allow you to dance with anyone else. I couldn't bear it."
"Really, Kit." Mira laughed, shaking her head.
"What gratification tosee them so happy," Princess Florentina said to Miss Pearson. The two ladies sat side by side on a sofa, watching and commenting on the goings on at the ball. "Atherton is smiling. I have never seen the man smile before."
"You have not?" Miss Pearson lifted her lorgnette, a gift from the princess. "The rascal lived for it. He did nothing but play childish tricks on all and sundry until his mother died, that is. When I took him in, he was so heartbroken I thought he'd never smile again. It was really Mirabel who saved him. The two of them became inseparable like milk and honey, and the whole village knew they'd be a couple one day. And then there was Master Williams, the village blacksmith, who taught him hard and well. Where would that boy be without Mirabel and Williams?" Miss Pearson shook her hand. "And myself, of course." She added with a sniff. Then she turned to the princess. "One might agree that this duke of yours has also played a considerable part, as have you yourself, of course."
"Oh no, my role in all of this has been more of a spectator," the princess claimed.
"Nonsense. Modesty does not suit you, Princess. Now teach me how to use this device properly." Miss Pearson lifted the lorgnette.
The first waltzcame early in the evening. True to his word, Kit stepped out into the gallery where Miss Pearson was waiting with Clare. As the first strains of the waltz began, he bowed and Clare, giggling, held out her hand.
Then they danced.
Mira watched from the door with a lump in her throat, seeing the two people she loved most in the world finally reunited.
"If I may," a voice said behind her. It was the duke. "Your hand for this dance?"
"You reserved a country dance with me," Mira reminded him. It was the only dance that Kit had allowed her to dance with another man.
"So I have. And now we will waltz."
