Chapter Eleven
Cilla
Cilla’s first danceat her first ball was disappointing. The man Aunt Ginny had arranged to partner her seemed to think a line dance an appropriate opportunity to interrogate her about her dowry, her expectations of marriage, and how likely it was that a successful suitor would have to socialize with her father or her sister.
Given they were constantly being interrupted by the demands of the dance, his questions were delivered in snippets, but as she pieced them together, Cilla became more and more annoyed.
“For I do not suppose that Miss Olivia Sanderson is likely to marry within theton,” he said. “She is known to be a bit of a harpy, and if she marries in the merchant class, and you marry up, you could not expect to know her, could you? Your aunt says you are very sweet natured, and your dowry is an attraction, I have to admit.”
Cilla had to admit that Livy’s ability to scold would be useful at this moment. She made the attempt. “Sir,” she said, “this is the first dance of my first ball of my first Season. I cannot feel that your questions are appropriate to the occasion.”
They were separated again, but when they came back together, he was ready for her. “I must say, Miss Lucilla, I donot expect to be coached in proper behavior by a woman of your class.”
The music came to a swirling end. The dance was over. Cilla curtseyed, and looked around for Aunt Ginny.Ah!There was Livy, taller than any other woman in the room. “You will return me to my aunt, sir,” Cilla said, with a shallow curtsey. She did not thank him for the dance, the boring pompous ignoramus.
As she and the bore approached Aunt Ginny, Jasper stalked off in one of his pets. Livy, who was glaring after their cousin, was also seething. Aunt Ginny said something to Livy and then noticed Cilla’s approach and pasted on her amiable smile for Cilla’s escort. But the man stopped several paces away, gave Aunt Ginny a hasty bow, and walked away.
“Oh dear,” said Aunt Ginny. “Did you offend the gentleman, Cilla? I would not have expected it of you.”
“It is more likely that the gentleman offended Cilla,” said Livy, loyally.
“I know that we are here in London to find husbands,” Cilla replied, “but it was surely rude of that man to question me about my dowry and lecture me on my low rank and the inadvisability of me retaining a friendship with my sister.”
“Oh dear,” Aunt Ginny repeated. “He will not do for you, then. I wonder if Ruby…”
The three cousins arrived all together, and Aunt Ginny left the fraught question of Cilla’s rude dance partner to question them about their first dances.
“If that man asks me to dance, Cilla,” said Livy under the cover of the Marples’ conversation, “shall I trip him up on the dance floor for you? Or threaten to gut him if he ever approaches you again?”
The offer made Cilla smile. It would not be put to the test. The man’s rude remarks about Livy suggested he was unlikely toever ask Livy to dance. But her sister’s unqualified support was much appreciated.
They were interrupted by Drake and Bane Sanderson, who brought with them another man, all three of whom bowed politely to Aunt Ginny and greeted all the girls.
“Lady Marple, ladies, may I make known to you Lord Andrew Winderfield?” Drake said.
Aunt Ginny simpered at the young lord. “Delighted to make your acquaintance, Lord Andrew. May I present my daughters, Miss Marple, Miss Ruby Marple, and Miss Beryl Marple, and my nieces, Miss Wintergreen and Miss Lucilla Wintergreen.”
Aunt Ginny was flustered indeed if she so far forgot herself as to present ladies to a gentleman, even one of high rank.
“We came to beg a dance with each of these lovely ladies,” Drake told Aunt Ginny. “You, too, my lady, if you would be so kind.”
Aunt Ginny chuckled. “I do not dance, you young scamp. Girls, I have organized partners for you for the first three dances. After that you have my permission to find room this evening for Lord Andrew, Mr. Sanderson. and Mr. Sanderson. One dance only, gentlemen.”
After Aunt Ginny’s warnings about the Sanderson brothers, Cilla had half expected Aunt Ginny to turn them away, but perhaps she did not wish to make a poor impression on Lord Andrew.
Drake had placed himself so he was next to Cilla—and Bane was next to Livy, Cilla noticed. “Miss Lucilla,” Drake said, “you look splendid tonight. May I hope you have saved me the supper dance?”
She promised him the dance, which meant she also committed herself to sitting with him at supper. How lovely. He then spoke to Livy and after that to each of the cousins.
His brother was doing the same, having secured Livy’s supper dance, and Lord Andrew was also speaking to each of the girls. Cilla promised the fourth dance of the evening to Lord Andrew, and the dance after supper to Bane.
After that, Aunt Ginny’s next candidate came to be introduced and to lead her onto the floor. This dance and the next were better. If her aunt had boasted to all those assigned to Cilla about the size of Cilla’s dowry and her pleasant nature, neither of the others were crass enough to mention those topics to Cilla.
The gentlemen danced well and did not attempt to converse beyond the barest social niceties. Lord Andrew took Cilla out next, and proved to be a charming and likeable gentleman, amusing her when they were waiting between patterns by his quick word-sketch descriptions of the others on the floor.
Cilla was not sure if it would be proper to ask him how he came to be acquainted with Drake, which was what she really wanted to know, so she merely enjoyed his company and his graceful dancing until the set was over.
She sat the next dance out, and was glad to do so, for two sets in a row had left her ready for a rest. Livy was on the floor with Lord Andrew, enjoying a vigorous round dance. Not one that left time for talking, but Cilla couldn’t imagine that Livy had anything more to say to a duke’s son than she did.
