by Abby Ayles
“Very well, then,” she said, “fully understanding that there is no ulterior purpose, would you like to dance a little?”
Andrew nodded. “So long as there is no ulterior motive, I would be very glad to dance with you.” He paused. “Seeing as you invited me, are you dancing the man's steps too?”
Lucy blushed. “Excuse me?” she asked somewhat indignantly.
“I was simply asking,” he replied with a smirk.
She could not stay angry at him. She giggled. To be fair, it wasn't a terrible joke. “No, you must dance the man's steps. How else am I to persuade my parents that I am mingling like a normal human being?”
“Indeed,” he replied, offering her his hand and guiding her out to dance.
Lucy felt light and happy dancing with Andrew. This sort of thing made more sense to her than dancing with some random man who only wanted to get close to her parents. She followed his steps, noticing what a good dancer he was. His strong arms and torso guided her with ease, and he kept time with every step as though he were directly connected to the music. He glided with such grace, such accurate steps, that it felt to Lucy like being a dancing doll on a music box, swept along with mechanical precision.
He was much better than her. She excused herself by noting that she was still young, and had spent most of her life in a boarding school full of other girls, without much opportunity to practise her dance steps with an actual man. Nevertheless, this meant that... Andrew did have that experience. However long he was in India, he must have, at some point before or during his stay abroad, danced very much with women. Or with a woman. But when? And with whom? Lucy found herself intrigued to say the least.
“I do believe you are the first honest soul I have met,” Andrew said suddenly.
“Am I?” Lucy asked.
“I find it hard to believe that everyone is genuinely so interested in their social connections, so happy with their lives. Everyone lies about who they want to be close to and why. Everyone lies about what their end goals are. But you do not,” Andrew explained.
“How do you know I am not lying?” Lucy asked.
Andrew fell silent a moment. “Why would you lie about something like that?”
“Perhaps because you said you were not a social person, and as a Baron you took my fancy,” Lucy said.
“But then you are giving yourself away, are you not? And being honest,” he replied.
“Or I know you would not believe me and I am endearing myself more to you by confessing,” Lucy said with a giggle.
Andrew scowled. “Well... Whatever the case, I do not intend on marrying you, so you have nothing to worry about.”
“Indeed, I do not,” Lucy said. “And I am being perfectly honest when I say it is so much more pleasant to enjoy a dance without having to worry about what your true colours or real intentions are.”
Andrew smiled softly for what was the first time that night. Lucy realised that smiling suited him much better than sullen scowling or arrogant smirking. It was as though those expressions of cold disinterest were completely fake, a character he was projecting. But rather than crafting a character to draw people in and trick them into liking him, it was a character to push people away and hide the true, tender person underneath. But Lucy felt she had caught a glimpse of the real Andrew in that soft, kind smile.
As though he had realised what he was doing, the smile suddenly melted away into his usual expression of calm disinterest. Lucy realised she had been smiling back and forced her own smile away. It was natural to smile back at someone who was smiling at you, but she also knew it was better not to smile at men you did not intend on marrying.
“It is very refreshing to meet a woman whose first question is not 'what do you look for in a wife?' too,” Andrew finally added.
“I suppose as a man of wealth and status you hear that a lot,” Lucy replied.
“More than I would like, anyway. Especially since my engagement ended.”
“Engagement?” Lucy asked.
Andrew looked a little angry and shook his head. “It does not matter. Do you receive many propositions? I bet you do, being beautiful and wealthy yourself.”
“My family is not quite so wealthy as my parents would like to make us look,” Lucy replied. “Nevertheless, I do get a few suitors on my tail. I am hoping that this new haircut will make me less beautiful and put men off me,” she confessed.
“I know it is not what you want to hear, but for what it is worth, I like your hair,” he said. “It is bold. Very beautiful. Some men like a woman with confidence, uniqueness, character...”
Lucy rolled her eyes. “Please do not say that. I thought I had found the perfect scare-man after how my parents reacted.”
“Scare-man?” Andrew asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Like a scarecrow, but for men,” Lucy explained.
“Well, you are certainly not one of those. Though, if it is any consolation, you would have to be the most appalling woman on earth to put off every man. There is someone to find beauty in everyone,” Andrew replied.
Lucy just nodded. On the one hand, the backhanded compliment stung a little. On the other hand, she knew he was being truly honest, and honesty was what she wanted. It may be flattering one second and painful the next, but it was preferable to the cold mask of humanity that most people wore.
Besides, Lord Jones was a fantastically fun man. He said things nobody else would dare say. He danced beautifully, and looked even more beautiful. And he saw the world for what it truly was. He was not someone she wanted to move away from. Rather, he was the only person in that entire room she wished to spend all night with.
That is, she wanted to carry on dancing with him all night long, but she knew that would give the wrong impression. Both to him, as someone who was clearly as wary of relationships as she was, and to the people around them, who would no doubt start rumours that they were seeing one another, legitimately or illicitly.
And even though she realised that such a rumour would no doubt make it easy for her to avoid future suitors, she could not bring herself to hurt him like that. She did not want to make him suspicious, or ruin his reputation. He was a decent man, the first truly decent man she felt she had ever met, and she did not want to hurt him. He seemed to be hurting enough already...
As the dance ended, Lucy reluctantly made her way over to where her friends were talking. Antoinette gave her a knowing smile. “It was very nice of you to spend some time with Lord Jones,” she said, “he has had some... some issues similar to the ones you have gone through. You two could do one another a lot of good.”
“Like the first man you set me up with?” Lucy said quietly.
Antoinette blushed. “I am sorry I did not mean to—”
“No, no, I am sorry, that was rude,” Lucy hugged her friend. “You are kind, and I know you only have the best of intentions for me. But... what issues do you speak of?”
“Well, he—” Antoinette began, cutting herself short as, carrying a glass of wine he had gone to find, Lord Jones returned.
“I cannot seem to find the blushing bride and the lucky man at all,” Andrew said, looking around, more than a trace of sarcasm as he spoke.
“I looked for them also, but they appear to have made their escape,” Antoinette said. “Nonetheless, this is still a beautiful reception and I have no intention of returning home until I have danced and mingled to my heart's content.”
“Oh, likewise,” Julia said, beaming. “It really is fantastic. Shall we go and see who we can find, Thomas?”
“Of course, my sweets,” Thomas nodded, grinned, and took Julia's hand as they walked off into the crowd again.
Lucy noticed Andrew casting them a glance which suggested he was made uncomfortable, possibly even feeling a little bitter about their relationship. Lucy shook her head. No doubt he was just disgusted by the sickly sweetness of their interactions in public. Few couples were at all affectionate in front of so many people, which made Julia and Thomas r
eally stand out.
“It is a little silly, isn't it?” Lucy said, nodding towards the couple.
“Oh, they have been apart a while,” Duke Perry said, “let them be in love, they deserve it.”
Antoinette cast Duke Perry a warning glance. “It is still not appropriate. And most definitely not fair to those who do not have a partner.”
Duke Perry, apparently sensing he had stepped into forbidden grounds just nodded and changed the subject swiftly. “What is India like, anyway, Lord Jones?”
Andrew sipped his wine in acknowledgement of the question. “I suppose,” he finally began, “a little like what you would expect. Where I was the weather was always oppressively warm. The people are slowly becoming more civilized, but, to be fair, I am not so sure it has much to do with the spread of faith as it has to do with the spread of sanitation and the disposal of corrupt tribal rulers.”
Lucy blinked. The other two fell silent. It was usually expected that Christians who travelled to spread the Good Word would have nothing but praise for the Mission and its methods. It seemed Andrew had socially unacceptable views on more than one subject.
Ordinarily she would write it off as the ramblings of someone who had lost their way and would eventually either rediscover faith or die in sin. But for some reason, coming from him, she believed it. She understood he was not attacking his faith, but the Mission itself, and she actually felt a deep respect for him. He may be an unorthodox man, but he seemed intelligent enough, and he was so focused on the truth, that... this had to be true also.
As the night drew to a close. Lucy felt oddly relaxed. She had actually had a lot of fun with Antoinette, Thomas, and Andrew. If only all events could be this free of pressure...
But as a few guests began to leave and the room became quieter and less crowded, she was reminded that she could always trust her mother to ruin a good thing.
Chapter 5
“But who is he?” Lady Fitzgerald said under her breath, staring at Lord Jones.
Lucy could tell that her mother was scrutinizing the man, inspecting every inch of his clothing, the lines of his haircut, the rings on his fingers, trying to work out who he was, where he stood relative to them, and, most importantly, if he was unattached and looking for a wife.
Lucy just shrugged. “I do not know. His name is Andrew and he is a great dancer.”
“That does not matter, dear,” Lady Fitzgerald replied. “What matters is that he is the only person I've seen you with tonight whom you did not already know, and you have not even found out his title.”
Lucy shrugged again. “I only wanted to dance.”
Lady Fitzgerald sighed and turned to the Lord. “It is the hair, is it not? It's putting men off approaching her. We ought to buy her a wig.”
Lord Fitzgerald nodded. “I shall have one ordered tomorrow. For now, I shall find that young man and see if we can find out who he is.”
Lucy shook her head. “It is nothing important. We simply got along. But he said he will be returning to India soon, so what odds does it make?”
“India? So he is a friend of Thomas's from the Mission?” Lady Fitzgerald said, wrinkling her nose. “And with that dark skin and that frame... I would not be surprised if he is some sort of a common doctor...”
“Now, dear, let us not be too hasty,” Lord Fitzgerald replied. “He is dressed very well and is very fashionable. I shall go and talk to him and see who he is.”
“And if he is suitable, what does it matter if he returns to India?” she said to Lucy. “Thomas was in India such a long time and Julia remained engaged to him all along. We simply need to secure an engagement before he departs.” She smiled sweetly at Lucy, who just shook her head.
“What worked for Thomas and Julia would not work as well for me, I am sure,” Lucy insisted.
“Of course it will. Are you saying you are not as good as Julia? She is a fine young lady and following her example is probably the only way to get on in life,” Lady Fitzgerald replied.
“But what if I cannot be apart from someone so long, and only talk to them in writing?” Lucy asked.
Her mother shook her head. “You managed to do so for us when you were in boarding school.”
“But that was in England. And you are my parents. Besides, after boarding school I am not sure I want to live so separated from the people I love ever again,” Lucy insisted.
“You will need to be apart from us and from your friends when you marry,” Lady Fitzgerald replied.
Lucy frowned. She wanted to answer back, but she could not think of an appropriate reply. It was not needed, though, as her father was already returning from the crowd. And he looked irked.
“What news?” Lady Fitzgerald asked eagerly.
“He is a Baron,” Lord Fitzgerald began. “Lucy, you knew this, did you not?”
Lucy shuffled her feet a little. “I do not know, he may have mentioned something of the sort.”
“Lucy!” her mother replied. “I simply cannot believe your actions, child. When a man tells you what his title is you must pay attention. How could you forget something as important as that?”
She shrugged. “I just wanted to dance, I did not believe that it was important to find out a man's rank if we will just dance a little at a wedding reception.”
Her mother shook her head. “You cannot just dance with a man, you must think of your character, your marriage prospects, your future,” she said in a quiet but stern voice, so as to not attract attention.
Lucy was furious. “I do not see why every time I so much as look in a man's direction we need to start thinking about marriage!” she said in an angry whisper. “Can I not just dance?”
“Of course not,” her father said. “Lucy, you are a lovely young lady, but you will not be forever. Why would you waste all your time frivolously dancing and socializing with friends when you could be securing yourself a Baron for a suitor?”
“But he is not interested in marriage,” Lucy replied. “So I could not have secured him as anything.”
“Then why were you wasting your evening dancing with him?” her father rubbed his temples. “If he will not marry you, then you need to find someone who might be more interested.
Lucy sighed. “I just want to have a bit of fun. Is it a crime to have a bit of fun dancing at a friend's wedding?”
“It is indecent, that is what it is,” her mother replied. “What do you think those men are thinking when they are dancing with you like that?”
“I do not care what they are thinking,” Lucy replied.
“When you are older and you understand how these things work, you will be ashamed of how you are conducting yourself right now,” Lady Fitzgerald said angrily. “Anyway, you have made enough of a fool of yourself for one night. We are retiring.”
Lucy looked around. “But I have not said farewell to my friends,” she said.
“And you shall not. If you will behave like a child, then you shall be treated as one. Your father will remain to apologize for our early departure, you and I are going back home,” her mother insisted.
Lord Fitzgerald nodded in agreement. “That is a wise decision, my dear. I shall see you at home.”
Lucy made an effort to maintain her poise as they walked out to the coach, but internally she was brimming with anger.
Once they were in the coach, her mother had another thing to add. “I do not think you are prepared to see suitors. Or anyone, for that matter. Until you are prepared to treat the men we present you with some respect, and earnestly attempt to show your best side to them, you are confined to the house.”
Lucy was indignant, but she knew better than to rebel against this. Fine. If they wanted to keep her away from all her suitors, then fine. It was what she wanted anyway.
After returning home Lucy immediately headed upstairs to get changed for bed. She felt a little regret that she was not going to see much of her friends and family, but at least she would be free from the usual social expectations. She tu
cked herself into bed and, exhausted, fell asleep immediately.
“Lucy, it is time to get up,” her mother's voice said.
Lucy sat up and rubbed her eyes. “Uh, good morning... Why are you here?” she asked. Normally it was the maid who woke her up. Was she still dreaming?
“Your father wanted me to have a talk with you first thing,” she said, looking a little sheepish as she placed a tray with a cup of tea on her daughter's bedside table. “He has said it is counterproductive, and unfair, to stop you from seeing your suitors.”
Lucy nodded, already feeling stressed even though she had just woken up. “Who shall I see next, then?” she said with a heavy heart.
“Actually, that is precisely what I am here to talk to you about,” Lady Fitzgerald said, throwing the curtains open to let the light in. “We have found where Lord Jones is living, and we have invited him for lunch. Quite graciously, he has agreed. He shall be here at one.”
“What time is it?” Lucy asked, sipping her tea.
“About eleven, so you must get up and dressed immediately,” her mother replied. “And please, do forgive me for what I said last night. It's only... you are a difficult child.”
“And I am sorry if you think I am difficult.”
Fully aware that was not an apology, Lady Fitzgerald glared a little at Lucy. “Just... get dressed.” And with that she left the room.
Lucy again felt bad for annoying her mother. But what else could she do? Comply and get married like a good girl? No, she would do everything possible to avoid that fate. Even if it meant insulting her parents and being confined to her room for the rest of her life.
Standing up, she went to look for the right dress. It was odd that Lord Jones had accepted to come for lunch. It was not at all what she had expected. She figured if he was so against social conventions he would simply reject her parents' invitation. And yet he seemed fairly happy to agree, so much so that in one morning the invitation had been sent and accepted.