“She will easily gather a reputation of being an exceptional dancer,” Arthur said. “I thoroughly enjoyed it.”
“Thank you, Arthur. You’re too kind,” Harriet replied.
The evening was deemed a success. Not counting her dance with Arthur, Harriet had four other dances with various young men. Most of her dance partners had been attentive, listening to her or making sure she wasn’t left alone afterwards. Word had spread that she was here with a close relative and not her parents.
She caught herself chattering away about her various encounters with men who’d come to speak with her or danced with her on the carriage ride home. Harriet suddenly realized she must sound like a fool to Arthur and Daphne and tried to change the subject to the various young ladies’ gowns.
Just that quickly they were in front of Jameson House. Once in the grand entrance hall, she bid both Daphne and Arthur good night. She was still so excited about the evening’s success, she doubted she’d sleep much. They didn’t need to hear her go on about the evening and deserved to have some privacy.
Her lady’s maid was waiting for her when she entered her room. Coaxed by the young girl, Harriet gave her a summary of the evening’s highlights. Finally, she crawled into bed, but instead of lying awake recounting her evening, Harriet fell sound asleep and didn’t wake up until morning.
*
Harriet descended thestairs to the main floor and found the breakfast room. She noted two floral arrangements as she walked but thought nothing of them. Entering the room, she found both Arthur and Daphne eating. She greeted them before going to the sideboard to make her selections. Coddled eggs, toast, and fresh fruit were her choices. Sitting down across from Daphne, she waited as the footman set the plate and bowl in front of her. It was true, she’d never received any sort of gift or flowers from a gentleman.
“Did you notice the flowers?” Daphne asked with a gleam in her eyes. “You seem to have the attention of a few of the men you met last evening.”
She stared at her, unbelieving what she heard. “Those are mine?”
“Yes. I left the cards on the side of each vase. There are a couple more and some things in the drawing room.”
“I’m not believing this. I’ve never received flowers from a man before,” Harriet said. She tried not to let her mouth hang open in disbelief. It was true, she’d never gotten flowers from a gentleman before. It was a new and exciting experience, and as soon as she finished eating she would go read all the cards.
She glanced Arthur’s way, but he had his head behind a newspaper. Men were such strange creatures. They tried to act like nothing phased them. No emotions and they did not dare to share with anyone, let alone a lady. She imagined he dotedover Daphne when they were betrothed, sending her all sorts of trinkets and flowers.
She and Daphne shared small talk while they ate. What was needed to do before the next ball and when her gowns would be ready from the modiste. They were so immersed in their conversation, both had forgotten Arthur was still sitting, reading his newspapers until they heard the sound of his chair scraping back.
“If you ladies will excuse me, I have my correspondence waiting and after that I’ll go to Parliament.”
“Very well. Is today the vote?”
Arthur nodded. “Yes, it is. At least I hope it is.”
Daphne smiled as her husband kissed her on the cheek. “Have a good day.”
“You and Harriet have a good day as well,” Arthur replied.
Both women watched Arthur as he departed the room. Harriet poured another cup of tea for herself and offered the pot to Daphne.
“Would you like to show me the cards and everything that’s arrived?” Harriet asked. “That would be wonderful. You can help remind me who is who in case I’ve forgotten.”
“If I were you, I’d bring a notebook to write in because I’ll also tell you whether they are worth your time,” Daphne said.
“Good idea.” Harriet rose from her chair after her last swallow of tea. “I’ll go find one now. I’ll meet you back here?”
“Yes.”
Harriet hurried across the floor and up the stairs to her room where she immediately went to the small writing desk. On top were three small notebooks, one of which was unused. It was perfect. Finding a pencil she quickly returned to Daphne’s side.
They walked to the first of two vases. Harriet read the cards and Daphne explained who they were. Next they moved on to the drawing room where a book of poetry sat on the table with acard placed neatly like a bookmark. Sitting next to it was a box of fine chocolates along with a brand-new novel by an author she hadn’t heard of before. She showed it to Daphne, hoping she might know. She didn’t, so for now the book would remain a mystery. Her eyes scanned the calling card left by the final sender, but neither she nor Daphne knew the name.
“Does this mean I’m going to have callers today?” Harriet asked.
“It is very possible,” Daphne replied. “But if you don’t, it’s not anything to worry about. Sometimes they will wait until they see you at the next ball.”
“So this is like a tease, letting me know I caught their attention?”
Daphne smiled and nodded her head. “That’s a very good way of looking at it. I would have never thought of that.”
