by Mark J Rose
The announcer stepped out on the floor again. The music was playing quietly. “The next couple will be…” He paused for a long time while the music played to build the anticipation. “Mr. Henry Duncan and Miss Henrietta Mordeau.”
“I knew it,” Grace said. “Henrietta is in town.”
Matt was dumbfounded. “Isn’t Henry a confirmed bachelor?”
“She comes from Europe twice a year,” Grace whispered up into his ear. “She’s an exquisite dancer. They deserve the honors.” Henry and Henrietta stepped out on the dance floor. Henry wore a powdered wig and was opulently dressed and his partner was equally decked out.
“The French king and queen,” Matt proclaimed. That’s almost too funny, Henry and Henrietta.
“Quite elegant,” Grace said. “Miss Mordeau is almost heavenly in her grace and beauty.”
Matt focused on their movements as they danced. They were very graceful and brought a new perspective to the dance, but fortunately for Matt, they too followed the same form. He was able to imagine it completely in his mind this third time with no missteps. The crowd roared with applause when they finished.
“They never disappoint,” Grace said.
“I know I’m not disappointed.”
She slapped him lightly on the arm. “We’ll see someday when we have honors how well you do.”
“Careful, Grace,” Matt warned as he smiled. “I may raise my hand and volunteer us right now.”
“You would not.”
“I could make it up as I go.”
She shook her head and pointed. They were ready to announce the fourth couple. Matt was starting to have the feeling they wouldn’t be called, so he relaxed. The announcer stepped out again. “The fourth couple to hold honors for the afternoon is…Miss Annabel Creighton and her escort, Mr. James Carlson.”
“There’s a rumor that they will be engaged soon,” Grace whispered. “Many suspected they would be chosen. They aren’t the most capable dancers, but it’s important to make this statement.”
“A lot depends on this minuet,” Matt said. He wasn’t entirely joking. This felt more stressful than necessary.
“A gentleman must manifest his commitment to the lady he loves,” Grace said.
“I get it,” Matt replied.
A woman at Matt’s side tapped him on the shoulder and put her finger to her lips. Matt whispered an apology and focused on the dance. As Grace had said, the Creighton girl and her fiancé did the dance competently, but both looked mechanical. It was to their disadvantage too that they went immediately after Henry and Henrietta, who were minuet royalty. When they finished, the crowd, aware of their challenge, clapped as loudly as they had for the others. Both man and woman smiled as they walked off the floor. Matt had to laugh when the young man gave an audible sigh as he walked past.
“Last one,” Grace said. “’Twill be Gregory Smith and Anne Marie Moore. They are next to be married.”
“We’ll see,” Matt replied. He put his finger to his lips. There was some nervousness in his knees, and he consciously had to steady himself. The music went quiet, and it took a while for the announcer to walk out onto the floor. He was shameless in the way that he played the crowd, building anticipation. Eventually, he stepped forward.
“Now, ladies and gentlemen, we come to our last honors position.” He paused. “Who will it be?”
Matt could feel his heart pounding. Oh, my Lord, you idiot, get on with it!
“The last honors position goes to…goes to…Miss Grace Taylor and her escort, Mr. Matthew Miller.”
Matt tilted his head to the sky and mouthed the words, “I need you now, big guy.” He gazed expectantly at Grace and motioned for her to take his hand. She looked at him with horror and surprise, and it took every ounce of courage for Matt to take that first step and lead her into the square. The music continued to play low as they moved onto the floor. Surprisingly, once he was out there and separated from the cheering masses, a wave of calm and confidence swept over him.
“You don’t know how to do this,” Grace whispered loudly. “We shall never live this down.”
“You better do your best to show me the dance, then,” he replied.
“This is how you’ll take your revenge, is it not?” They now bowed to each side of the pavilion.
“Revenge for what?”
“My animosity toward you those first days.”
“You admit it!”
“I apologize. Can we step off?”
“Apology accepted.” They bowed to one another and took their positions. “Too late, though.” The music started to play and he began to move through the steps, one after another. Both started tentatively, but as they danced, the link between them grew stronger. At times, Matt felt almost as if he was watching himself dance from outside his body somewhere up on the ceiling. Make her the center of attention.
As they moved around the square that dictated the form and movements of the minuet, he made sure always to focus on his partner. She was stunning in her white dress and braids. When she moved, he matched her exactly and would follow by flipping his hand towards her as if to say, “Look at this beautiful woman.” Then, almost as if it had happened in an instant, the dance was over. For his life, Matt couldn’t remember if he had done it at all, or if he had skipped half the steps. As they stood there bowing, the announcer moved out to them, waving his hand, and said, “Our last honors dancers, Miss Grace Taylor and Mr. Matthew Miller.” Grace slid her hand into his; he could see tears in her eyes. He led her slowly out of the square.
As they stepped off the stone surface, Matt took her possessively in his arms and kissed her passionately, not caring who saw. Grace responded in kind, pressing her lips hard against his. When the kiss was finished, she pulled away and stared into his eyes with a look of desire, then turned and walked away. Matt stood there, overwhelmed.
“Why, Mr. Miller,” said Graine from behind, “I wouldn’t have believed that you could perform such a competent minuet. Grace told me earlier that you weren’t interested in dancing.”
Matt turned to face her, coming out of his trance. “You took a big chance, then?”
“I imagined,” Graine said, “until I spoke with Henry and he said that he taught you. I’ll be making apologies to Anne Marie Moore until I can rectify the situation at our next party.”
“Sorry about that,” Matt said. “I do appreciate the opportunity. Did I make an impression?”
“Too mechanical in your turns, was Henry’s comment,” Graine said, “but many young ladies sighed when you did that motion with your hand. Were you casting a line to your young love?”
Casting a line to my young love? What?
Will stepped beside Graine and she casually put her hand into his. “No matter what your sisters are saying,” he said, “ours was better.”
“It’s true that our dance was technically better than theirs,” she replied, “but Mr. Miller made many more young ladies sigh with his adoration for his partner.”
Will shook his head in mock disgust at Matt.
“I must go help Mother with the desserts,” Graine said. She smiled at Will.
Matt watched her walk away. “You’re a lucky man,” he said to Will.
“She’s planned endlessly to ensure everyone leaves happy,” Will replied. “Anyway, how do you explain all that?”
“All what?”
“We never practiced the minuet.”
“I went to visit Henry Duncan,” Matt said. “We spent three hours practicing.”
“You spent three hours practicing the minuet?”
“More like six,” Matt said. “Remember how I left early to go to bed? I went to the barn to practice from diagrams he gave me.”
“Who taught you that hand motion?” Will waved his hand, trying to reproduce it. “Something about it made them all swoon. Did you kiss her at the end?”
They were interrupted by a man who had walked up to them quickly. “Will,” he said angrily. “Where’s your fat
her?”
Will looked over his shoulder and said, “Good day, Edward. Have you met Matthew Miller?”
“I don’t care to make anyone’s acquaintance,” the man said. “Where’s your father?” It was then that Matt saw Jeb behind the man.
“Hello, Jeb,” Matt said. “Having fun?” Jeb was silent. He motioned with his head at the man standing in front of him.
“I caught him in the barn with my fourteen-year-old daughter,” the man said.
“Is this true, Jeb?” Will asked.
Jeb mumbled to the ground. “We only kissed a couple of times.”
“I don’t want details!” the man exclaimed.
Matt was sure they were in the presence of Mr. Edward Greene, father of Sara.
“Come hither,” Will said, motioning for them to follow. He turned to Matt. “Probably best that you don’t come.” Matt watched them walk away with Jeb following about five steps behind. He turned around once and Matt shook his head, smiling. He caught himself, thinking it might not be appropriate. Matt wasn’t sure exactly how much trouble Jeb was in, so he decided he’d not make light of it until he figured out how bad things really were.
He looked around for someone he knew and saw only Grace, who was having an animated discussion with a group of young women. He stood there watching couples minuet until he noticed Henry Duncan on the other side of the pavilion. He put his hand up to get his attention and Henry waved him over.
“I can’t thank you enough, Henry,” Matt said, walking up to shake his hand.
“I didn’t think you’d vie for an honor position,” Henry said.
“What’d you think?” Matt asked. He realized he was fishing for compliments, but didn’t care.
“Your technique was loose in almost every regard, and you have a long road to becoming competent—”
“That bad?”
“If you’d only let me finish,” Henry said. “You made up for your lack of technique with desire for your partner. Even my Henrietta was mesmerized with your adoration for young Grace. I have rarely seen Henrietta react so, and she’s danced with the finest practitioners in Europe. She said that every time you waved your hand, it was as if you caressed your partner from afar. I felt that you were pointing and trying to divert attention, but that’s my guess and you needn’t disclose your true intent. Sometimes the passion in the dance overwhelms all watching. Technique or no, this was that day for you, Mr. Miller. Now, to end my pontificating and answer your question, you did more than fine today. Young Miss Grace will remember this day for the rest of her long life.”
“Thank you, Henry,” Matt said, “even if you’re just being polite.”
“Whether I am or not,” Henry said, “you won’t always be able to count on mesmerizing young ladies with a wave of your hand. When you return to Richmond, I’ll expect you to contact me with a formal request for dancing lessons.”
“I’ll be back,” Matt said. “Anyway, who is this Henrietta?”
“A lady of exquisite breeding,” Henry explained, “who comes to honor me with her presence a couple times a year.”
“Someone told me that you were a confirmed bachelor.”
“A valid assessment. Henrietta knows this about me, but she still visits. She’s a wealthy widow. I cherish her presence and dread the day when she finally tires of my bachelorhood.”
“I wish you the best future with your friend. Do you visit her?”
“Twice a year,” Henry said. “I travel to Europe and spend time at her estate.” He chuckled. “She feared once that I coveted her money, but knows differently now.”
“How long has this been going on?”
“Ten years.”
“Where I come from,” Matt explained, “it’s rare for men and women to stay married for ten years.”
“I never take her for granted. I know there’s pressure for her to remarry.”
“And yet it’s been a decade,” Matt said. “I’m envious of your friendship. She’s a striking woman.”
“I agree,” Henry replied. “She’s a better dancer than me and magnificent with a sword.”
“You’re joking, right?”
“No, ’tis the truth,” Henry said. “She’s employed a sword master on her estate since we met.”
“You’re an interesting guy,” Matt replied. “Would you mind if I wrote to you when I return to Philadelphia? I think you would give me the clearest picture of the happenings in Richmond.”
“Matthew Miller,” Henry said. “Are you asking me to spy on the Taylors?”
“Nothing of the sort. Leaving Richmond may make me homesick.”
“You may write to me. Be aware that if I’ve not written back, fashion has called me across the sea.”
“Thanks,” Matt said.
“The dancing is starting again,” Henry proclaimed. “I must find my Henrietta. My time with her is precious.”
“I should join Grace,” Matt said, “but she seems so happy talking to her friends.”
“She’d appreciate being rescued after this much time, I believe.”
“See you on the dance floor,” Matt replied.
“Henrietta despises the reel,” Henry declared. “I make her do it anyway.” He laughed a hearty laugh, turned, and walked away.
Matt stood there, enjoying his solitude. He had done the dance.
40
It Was Her Idea
“I have never been so embarrassed,” Mary said on the way home.
“’Twas not my conceit to enter the barn,” Jeb said. “Sara suggested it.”
“The ladies love a man with—”
“Jonathan!” Matt interrupted before he could finish. Thomas glared at them both and then focused on Jeb.
“Why didn’t you speak thus when Mr. Greene told the details?” his father asked.
“I didn’t want her relations to think ill of her,” Jeb said. “I’ll take any punishment.” He looked off in a dreamy fashion.
His tone wasn’t lost on his father. “Since you didn’t respect Mr. Greene or his daughter, it will be a very long time before he grants you an audience, if ever,” he said. “You must consider the consequences before you commit such indiscretions.”
“I’ll not be allowed to speak with her?” Jeb asked.
“If it were one of my daughters,” Thomas said, “it would be a very long time.”
“Protecting her fame,” Grace said. “That showed character.”
“There should be naught positive in this!” her mother replied.
Grace shrugged. “A lady remembers,” she said. Matt sat there silent, smiling. He couldn’t add any wisdom to an already confused situation. Jeb had that far-off look in his eyes and Matt suspected he’d do it all over again.
“Fortunately, this matter was handled discreetly,” Thomas said. “Jeb will receive the appropriate punishment from Mr. Greene. Otherwise, it was a wonderful party with more than a few surprises.”
Mary said, “My son was such a gentleman to Graine, and their minuet captured everyone’s imagination.” She went silent and it was obvious she was hiding her smile.
“You should not tease your daughter thus,” Thomas said, laughing. “Tell her.”
“’Twill only grow her conceit,” Mary said, “like your eldest son.”
“Wife,” Thomas proclaimed, “you know I’ll not say it as well.”
“Fine,” Mary replied with a big smile. “First, who knew Mr. Miller could minuet, and under the pressure of honors?”
“You danced honors?” Jeb asked, surprised.
“You may have been busy during that time,” Matt said.
“Oh.” Jeb went quiet.
“It was an excellent surprise when they called your names,” Mary said. “Your father choked on his tea.”
“Not choked!” he said. “It was only unexpected.”
Grace said, “Father, I didn’t know you cared so much for the minuet.”
“I knew what dancing honors meant to you.” Thomas paused, thinking
. “And I must apologize to Mr. Miller. I worried that my daughter would be embarrassed. I shouldn’t have assumed this.”
“The spot wasn’t guaranteed until our names were called,” Matt said. “I was as surprised as anyone.”
“I answered many questions this day about the tall mystery man my daughter had chosen as her escort,” Mary said. “Such a demonstration. The young ladies dreamed of their future, and the older ladies—” She put her hand on Thomas’s shoulder and said, “They were taken back to the passion of their youth.”
Jeb finally broke his silence. “Was it hard doing the dance?”
“Not knowing was harder than anything,” Matt said.
“Were you not fearful?” Jeb asked.
“Not once I got out there,” Matt said. “I knew what Jonathan told me about Grace.”
“What did he say?” Grace asked, looking at her brother suspiciously.
“Jonathan said you danced like a princess,” Matt said. “No lie.” Jonathan nodded confidently. “And Will said that the man should make everyone focus on the lady.”
“Good advice,” Mary said. “Most watch the lady more than the man.”
“I don’t want to analyze it further,” Matt declared. “My partner was a beautiful dancer. I don’t think anyone was looking at me at all.” Matt thought aloud. “Well, except for Henry Duncan. He’s scheduled me for lessons when I return.”
“You’re going back into town?” Jeb asked.
“No,” Matt said. “When I visit again from Philadelphia.”
“I forgot that you’re leaving soon,” Jeb replied.
“When are you leaving, Mr. Miller?” asked Jonathan.
“It’s the same,” Matt said. “I need to wait for word about my ring.”
“Is it a lot of money?” Jonathan asked.
“Not a polite question,” his father said.
“I want to be sure Mr. Miller has enough to buy Thunder is all,” Jonathan replied. “Thunder would be sad to be purchased by another.” Matt smiled at the boy. He always asked more than simple questions.
“Jacob has offered to buy the ring,” Matt said. “I’ll have enough money to buy Thunder either way.”