‘Ah, yes, I see. Oh, he is an elegant dancer,’ she whispered, a note of enthralment entering her tone.
Indeed he was, and though I attempted to watch other people, my eyes kept being drawn back to him. As well as being an elegant dancer, he also was not hiding thefact he was having a thoroughly good time, which I thought was capital. I approved of men who enjoyed dancing.
The dance ended, and the participants took their bows.
When Mr Hart straightened, he must have felt our collective gaze upon him as his eyes immediately roved over us ladies, as if he were at the butcher’s determining which was the choicest cut of beef.
Hastily, I averted my eyes and stared at the chandelier overhead. But it was too late.
‘Lord, have mercy,’ murmured Lucinda, who had started fluttering her fan at a great rate. ‘I can’t breathe. He’s coming over.’
Chapter 6
Mr Hart strolled directly to us after bidding his mousy-haired partner a polite, but disinterested nod after the cotillion. The young woman looked none too pleased to be dismissed so soon and scurried across to her two friends, the ones who had been whispering and peeking at us from behind their fans.
‘How lovely to see you again, Miss Fitzroy,’ said Mr Hart, directing his full attention to Lucinda, who stiffened under his intense gaze. Indeed, as well as being extremely handsome, he possessed a commanding presence that was difficult to ignore.
‘Good evening, Mr Hart,’ replied Lucinda, continuing to fan herself. But the poor girl’s cheeks were fiery, and the fan wielding was doing nothing whatsoever to cool them.
‘Who are your friends?’ he enquired with a tilt of his head. ‘I did not have the pleasure of meeting them at the pump room this morning.’
‘This is my aunt, Mrs Felicity Fitzroy, and her friend Miss Jane Austen.’
‘Charmed, I’m sure,’ said Mr Hart, bowing to Jane and me. When his eyes metmine, a small bird fluttered in my chest, and my own cheeks heated imperceptibly. But I refused to simper and gave him a polite nod. He was sightly to behold and had pretty manners, but we still did not know anything about him.
‘Would you care to stand up with me for the next dance, Miss Fitzroy? I believe it is a minuet,’ he said to Lucinda, smiling amiably and waiting for her reply.
Lucinda agreed but seemed unable to stand, being struck by something like stage fright.
‘Go on, dear,’ I whispered encouragingly. ‘Everyone is taking their places.’
Slowly, Lucinda rose and took Mr Hart’s arm, and he led her to the dance floor. She looked like a doll next to him.
‘Gracious,’ I said to Jane when they were out of earshot. ‘I hope she manages to dance all right.’
‘He seems to be giving her words of encouragement,’ said Jane.
We watched as Lucinda stood a little taller and seemed more at ease. By the second promenade, her face had relaxed, and she even smiled as Mr Hart spoke to her, and she replied with a comment.
‘What are they saying? Can you tell?’ I asked Jane (she was good at reading people’s lips).
‘I am not entirely sure, but I think that he asked about her day, and she said, “We wentto the library.”’
I warmed to him then. It was kind that he was conversing with her and making her feel comfortable. I could not stand men who refused to talk while dancing. It always made things so awkward. What was the point if you could not get to know your partner?
I’d enjoyed the conversation Max and I had on our first dance at Ashbury, even though we mostly spoke about him collecting his hat. But it was then that I realised I had feelings for him as he had looked so vulnerable when he’d asked to call on me and was awaiting my reply. He’d looked terrified that I would say no!
In thinking of it, I began to miss him terribly and wished he was here to dance with me. Max was an excellent dancer and would not have hesitated to whisk me onto the floor (well, he would do so as soon as I had given him encouragement). I would be up there doing the minuet myself rather than sitting here, getting a sore bottom.
And Jane, being single, should really be up dancing! I looked around, attempting to subtly catch the eye of an agreeable gentleman for her.
But in doing so, I was surprised to see Elizabeth conversing with a woman who seemed to have waylaid her. She looked familiar, and I realised it was the mother of the pretty blonde girl at the pump room, the one who had made the gagging motion. Whatever it was the woman was saying, Elizabeth did not seem to be pleased by it as shemade several attempts to leave and join us but was prevented from doing so by the woman holding tightly on to her arm and talking intently.
Eventually, Elizabeth extracted herself from the woman’s grip and came over, looking very stern.
‘What was that all about?’ asked Jane, who had seen the performance as well as I.
Elizabeth sat down, breathing heavily and looking disconcerted. ‘Well, I never!’ she said. ‘I did not expect to be accosted at a ball, but there is a first time for everything.’
