Charlotte herself was clad in a deep blue velvet dress, and looked quite pretty, and seemed to know that “quite pretty” was all she would ever accomplish, and that attempting to be the belle of the ball would make her look as ludicrous as Evangeline did now. Her graceful acceptance of this fact made her radiant. She linked arms with Lina, and the two tittered their way to the archway through which the guests were entering the ballroom, while Mrs. Tilton frowned behind them, her shapeless bulk swathed in legions of black chiffon that gave off the distinct effect of looking like she was at once attending a funeral and a gala.
Lina was relieved to see that Evangeline would be able to slip through the doorway without having to adjust or compact her dress. Arriving at the ball had required so many creative solutions centered on managing Evangeline’s dress that Lina already felt quite tired.
From the moment she entered the ballroom, Lina could feel that all eyes and all thoughts were upon her. The event glittered and shone, and a great orchestra played divinely. Candles and gas lamps and chandeliers twinkled and flickered over the beautiful frescoes of the grand room, and light caught in the expensive fabrics and jewels heaped upon the women, who were painted and decorated like pastries and flowers. She was overwhelmed for a moment by the sheer glamour of the event, the likes of which she had only imagined and had never been able to picture quite as grandly as what she now saw.
But any sense of awe she experienced from the surroundings was overtaken promptly by the most obvious fact that wherever she walked, whispers snaked through the clusters of women or men who watched her, some furtively, some openly. Heads leaned together, attempting subtlety, but there was no escaping that all heads moved together, and all eyes remained on her, and lips moved quietly but spoke, everywhere she passed.
“Everyone is talking about you,” Charlotte whispered. “They have been so anxious to see you they have forgotten their etiquette entirely. I think Mrs. Chattoway shall be mistaken for a fish and be served as an hors d’oeuvre if she remains gaping as she is for much longer.” Charlotte patted her arm reassuringly and smiled, overly brightly, at everyone they passed. Lina was grateful to have her as a companion.
Lina was also grateful to Charlotte for having dispensed a great deal of advice about what to expect at the ball, for without it, Lina might have been mystified. “Is there a supper room at this ball?” Lina whispered to Charlotte.
“We shall soon determine. But remember what I told you. You must find a man to escort you there, and then you should dance with him, and you must never, ever go to the supper room with the same man twice.D’accord?” Charlotte enjoyed practicing her French with Lina. Her accent was comically terrible, but Lina had grown accustomed to it and now found it rather charming.
And so, as Charlotte had instructed, they found a suitable place to sit and wait for the manager of the party to introduce them, so they might be asked for a dance, and subsequently, to the supper room.
* * *
Though much of whattranspired at a ball such as this one centered upon proper etiquette, and gentlemen would not allow a lady to remain seated for long, or not to be asked to the supper room so that, embarrassingly, a host was required to ask a free gentleman to do so, there were still ways to measure the desire of gentlemen to engage with a lady, and it was quite evident that Lina drew much attention.
It was common knowledge and society gossip that Lina was the lady engaged to Mr. Blackstone, and Mr. Blackstone’s wealth was widely known and discussed. But every gentleman to whom she was introduced requested a dance with her, and before long she felt as though the world was spinning about her in a blur of glittering lights and brilliant colors.
Charlotte whispered to her, as they passed each other on the floor, “You simply must ask to go to the supper room, Lina, I’m famished.”
She had forgotten the supper room entirely. Her current dance partner was a smiling, sandy-haired gentleman she had seen before during her stay; she felt certain he had tipped his hat at them in the park or at a museum. Lina was hardly paying these gentlemen any mind; she was focused solely on the act of behaving as properly as possible and marveling at the scene around her.
Charlotte had agreed to request to go to the supper room when Lina did, so as not to abandon her in the event she required assistance with etiquette or rules. Lina whispered back that she was most sorry and would ask after the dance, and so she did, and the gentleman, a Mr. Carrington, obliged, as was required by proper etiquette.
He escorted her down an enormous staircase to the refreshment room, and Lina had to exert a great deal of effort not to make an exclamation upon entering it.
At the center of the supper room was a table heaped with such extraordinary culinary items, and so many of them, that she could scarcely believe her eyes. In the center of the table was a sculpture made of ice. She felt a bit dizzy at that moment and grasped the gentleman’s arm to steady herself, for she had never seen such a display in all her life, or even imagined it.
Mr. Carrington and Charlotte’s dance partner, a gentleman friend of Carrington’s—who plainly had asked Charlotte to dance as a favor to his friend, but, like Charlotte, was handsome in a plain and friendly way and was getting along quite amicably with Charlotte—escorted the ladies to chairs. They seated themselves and then, smiling, Charlotte rattled off such a list of requests from the table that Lina’s head spun, for she hadn’t any idea what most of those things were. Charlotte ordered for her and sent the two men looking for champagne as well.
“You are only supposed to have one glass,” Charlotte said, her voice serious. Then she whispered, “but I often have two.”
The champagne, which Lina had never tried, was terrible tasting, but intoxicating as promised. They sat, ordering their dance partners about to retrieve food for them, but at last Charlotte told Lina that they might as well return to the dance floor, for the gentlemen were required to stay with them as long as they liked, and would likely wish to dance with more partners.
And so they returned, and danced for what seemed like hours, and the party became louder and more glittery than it had seemed before. The intoxicating drink had quite gone to her head, and Lina felt after a while that she wished to return to the supper room, if only to refresh herself.
She would never be sure exactly how everything transpired, for Charlotte had explained all of the rules to her extensively, but insisted that everyone at this ball would be so proper and concerned about their appearances as gentlemen, that Lina would never need to remember the rules herself. But she found herself separated from Charlotte at the end of a waltz, and Mr. Carrington came right to her side at that moment, his arm extended for her to take. Another hopeful was approaching her at the same time, and Lina felt quite overwhelmed, as she could not recall what she was supposed to do in this particular instance.
“The lady has already promised the next dance to me, my good man,” Mr. Carrington said confidently. While the approaching gentleman quite clearly knew this to be untrue, he backed away, and requested the next dance, which Lina granted only because she was uncertain what else to do.
Mr. Carrington grinned at her as they spun about the dance floor. Lina smiled back. “I think I may have made quite an error, Mr. Carrington,” she said, blushing slightly. “I believe I have already danced with you once this evening. Is it not improper to accept your invitation more than once?”
“It is improper,” he said, spinning her about, “for me to ask you more than once.”
He smiled at her, flirtatiously, and because Lina had never been in such close contact with a man, or danced with any male except for a relative, she felt for the first time in her young life the thrill of being flirted with, and it made her quite forget where she was.
They finished the dance, and Lina was so overcome that she had to steady herself on his arm again as she left the floor.
“Are you quite well?” Mr. Carrington inquired.
“I am,” Lina said, gripping his arm, “feeling very... much... as though I need to sit down. Or take refreshment.”
Mr. Carrington guided her through the small crowd at the edge of the dance floor and spoke to the gentleman who had requested the next dance with her. Lina was not sure what he said, as another round of clapping arose at that moment and drowned out his voice. The party, by society standards, had become quite rowdy.
Mr. Carrington guided her to the supper room, where she sat and he retrieved her lemonade. She felt much better, but he said she looked pale, and inquired whether she might like to stroll about the garden as a means to take in some fresh air.
