You’re only imagining that every eye has turned to you!
One eye had, and was welcome. Blacknorton hurried to her. She couldn’t marry him, but she could greet him warmly simply for being tall, and she was happy to promise him the first set. One hurdle overcome! In the patterns of a country dance she’d have to encounter other men, some of them shorter, but she’d mostly dance with her partner.
They shed their cloaks and went upstairs to make their bows and curtsies to the ambassador and his wife. Lady Lieven had not been in London when Ariana hadlast been there, and she was interested to meet such a famous lady.
Countess Lieven was only a few years older than Ariana and as pretty and charming as reported. Even in a brief encounter Ariana saw sharp intelligence. No wonder she was said to play a major part in her husband’s embassy. Why, then, were most women expected to hide their talents?
The assembly room—for mourning reasons this was not to be described as a ball—was large but already well filled with the powerful and great of London. The overall color tone was somber, but some of the men wore military uniforms, which provided welcome splashes of color, as did the sashes and medals of orders.
As for the ladies, all wore gowns in dark shades, and most wore ornaments of pearl, silver, and jet. Sparkling gems were less common, as was gold. Ariana wished she’d worn jet—but only for a moment. Her height could never be disguised, so she’d be bold in all ways.
The room had been decorated in a subtle way that did not quite disregard mourning. Most of the floral displays were simply evergreens and any flowers were white. The magnificent curtains were of pale gray velvet and all the seating was shrouded in gray cloth. The music being played at the moment was stately with subtle religious tones.
Despite this, the guests smiled, chattered, and sometimes laughed. Life went on beneath the veil.
Lady Cawle sailed across the room to a gray-shrouded sofa and established herself there, wide black skirts taking up most of the width, her sapphires afire. Ariana was surprised that none of the older ladies present had already claimed the seat, but perhaps any who’d made the attempt had been quietly warned off.
Norris escorted Ariana and her mother to chairs beside the sofa and then fidgeted.
“You may go and find other amusement, dear,” their mother said, and he escaped.
People were hastening to talk to Lady Cawle as if she were holding court, and she made introductions to Ariana and her mother. There were some who remembered Lady Langton from the past, but none who remembered Ariana. Or admitted to it.
She wondered if any of the gentlemen here had been in that drunken gathering all those years ago. She’d recognized Kynaston’s voice, but none of the others.
Would anyone remember the yellow-tufted, big-footed Boxstall longshanks?
Her resolve to be bold began to seep away. She realized she’d tucked her feet back, as if to try to hide them, and forced them forward again. She plied her black fan and set herself to appearing normal, hoping Blacknorton would keep his promise to dance the first set with her.
When he approached, she could have beamed at him, but remembered to be merely pleasant. She mustn’t raise false hopes. She took her place in the line, trying to put herself mentally in comfortable Hampshire, and then embarked on the dance.
It went better than she’d expected. Certainly there were awkward moments, such as when she had to take a turn with a particularly short gentleman, but she remembered what her father had said to her once.
“Short men are uncomfortable about their lack, my dear, so you must do your best to ignore it.”
So she’d smiled kindly at the little man. He’d smiled back, clearly relieved that she wasn’t offended.
Dear, darling Papa. She was in danger of new tears over losing him, but she smiled, as she knew he’d wish and ended up enjoying herself. As Blacknorton took her back to her mother, she only slowly realized that she’d smiled too warmly at him.
He clasped her hand in parting and looked into her eyes. “A pleasure, Lady Ariana. Such a pleasure.”
When he walked away, she wished all her warmth undone.
To make matters worse, she was now having to stand, as her mother was bracketed by Lady Cawle’s sofa on one side and an occupied chair on the other. She made sure to stand tall. She’d long overcome any temptation to hunch.
Then she heard Lady Cawle say, loud and clear, “Kynaston. I was not aware that you meant to attend.”
There he was, some yards away in perfect evening wear, as elegant and polished as could be. He came over to bow to his aunt. “I’m escorting Phyllis.”
Phyllis, again!
“I wasn’t aware she was in Town,” Lady Cawle said.
“Nor was I. She arrived today with the Weathersteds.”
Ariana had overheard that name at the theater and now she regretted that she hadn’t asked her mother for more information. This Phyllis was clearly a lady of significance to him, and also well-known to Lady Cawle. Even, perhaps, well liked by the lady?
Ariana was ashamed to recognize jealousy.
