Four of the sisters appeared pleased. Damaris, however, grew pale and stepped away from the others.
“I will play,” she quickly offered and hurried to the piano.
“You must dance as well,” Lady Penelope insisted.
She was already shaking her head vigorously before the words ever formed. “I have no desire to injure or be injured or cause a disruption and draw attention.”
“I am certain that will not happen.”
Henry wasn’t so confident and thought perhaps it wise that of all his cousins, she be the one to remain along with wall with the other wallflowers where less damage could be done.
“There were no incidents yesterday,” Lady Penelope argued.
Henry blinked. “None?” Damaris could barely cross a room without mishap. How had she shopped the whole of London, or nearly what seemed like it given the number of packages that had arrived home with them yesterday, without an accident?
“She was in the comfortable companionship with her sisters and myself,” Lady Penelope answered confidently. “Much different than a crowded ballroom.”
Then it was true. Damaris did suffer from a nervous condition, but how did one cure such an affliction?
“That is not true,” Damaris answered quietly. “I tore lace at one shop. Upset a perfume at another. Tripped over parasols, stepped on the bookmaker, and spilled ink at the stationery shop.”
“You did?” Lady Penelope asked in surprise.
How could she have not noticed such accidents? Was Lady Penelope not supervising his cousins as well as she should?
“We have become proficient in hiding such incidences,” Bernice answered.
“The lace, perfume and ink were included in the purchases and delivered yesterday,” Chloe said quietly as Damaris’ face turned crimson. “We used our pin money to cover the cost.”
“Please, Cousin Henry, do not make me dance,” Damaris begged.
It would be heartless for him to do so. “Very well. You shall play.”
He then addressed his cousins, both male and female. “Choose your partner and Lady Penelope will instruct.”
“The gentlemen shall teach and I will watch,” she corrected.
Henry wanted to take issue with the dictate, but since it was him and his three male second cousins with the four female cousins who needed to learn, Lady Penelope was not needed to participate.
Though no doubt she would correct the slightest mistake.
The country dances were learned quickly and with little effort. They were followed by the Reel, Cotillion and then Quadrille. Penelope was certain that each of the Simpson sisters, except for Damaris, would be a graceful partner. Such could not be said for the waltz.
The gentlemen were patient and tried to guide, but the women were, well…stiff. The moment a Grell brother or His Grace placed a hand on their back, the sisters grew tense, rigid.
Even Bernice, who had danced previously.
“Stop!” Penelope finally commanded “What is wrong?”
The sisters blinked at her.
“It is like trying to dance with a tree,” Mr. Chadburn, who had been dancing with Bernice, the one who was supposed to have already known how to dance, finally answered.
“It is difficult to ignore years of being told that it is not proper to touch,” Judith explained.
“You touched during the previous dances,” Penelope reminded them.
“Those were hands alone, and acceptable when necessary.”
