Hope herself was bubbling with happiness.
“Finally, finally!” she cried, as the coach lumbered down the drive. “I cannot wait to be dancing! Oh, I do so hope I am not left to sit with Mama and Belle. It would be the most infamous thing, if I do not get to stand up at all. Someone will be sure to ask me to dance, do you not think?”
“I am sure someone will,” Dulcie said, giggling. “And we can guess who someone is.”
“Oh, hush, sister,” Hope said. “You must not say such things.”
“Perhaps he will even propose tonight,” Dulcie said. “There is no need to wait now, after all.”
“Dulcie, I mean what I say,” Hope said angrily. “You are not to speak of it. Everything has changed now, and who knows how it will end?”
Dulcie stared at her. “What do you mean? We all know how it will end.”
“You know nothing about it!” After a moment’s hesitation, she went on more quietly, “So much money changes people, it cannot be otherwise. Mr Burford will be a simple curate no longer, he will be… someone else. Perhaps he will strut about in dazzling waistcoats like Sir Osborne Hardy, or he may build a mansion with monstrous towers and fake battlements like Mr Wills.”
Belle felt compelled to say, “People do not change in their essence, Hope dear. He will always be the same man inside, however the outward trappings change.”
Hope held her gaze for a long time before her eyes dropped. “But they are changing! And until he has settled on what he wants, nothing is certain. Do you see?”
Belle did see.
“Besides,” Hope went on, not waiting for an answer, her hands winding and unwinding the strings of her cloak, “I do not want to even think about… well, about anything except enjoying myself. I am barely out of the schoolroom, sister, and my only wish is to dance and dance until my feet are too tired to carry me any longer. I want to be the centre of attention, and have gentlemen queueing to lead me onto the floor. I want to go to balls and parties and dinners and perhaps even have a season in London, if I am very lucky. I have waited years for my moment to shine. Am I selfish for wanting to seize it, and not think about the future just yet?”
Dulcie subsided, and Belle was conscious of a faint flicker of optimism.
~~~~~
Burford stayed at his usual place, a quiet inn tucked away down a nondescript side street. He always avoided the major coaching inns, with their constant bustle and dubious characters. The Red Dragon was run by a respectable Welsh couple, and although, like any inn, there were plenty of comings and goings, it tended to quieten down overnight, and was rather more decorous than inns often were. It was inexpensive, too, which had always been a strong advantage. He supposed in the future he would stay somewhere more expensive, like the Royal Oak or the White Rose. That brought him to thoughts of the Miss Allamonts, currently residing at the White Rose. Tonight he was rather glad he was not staying there, to bump into them in the dining room or the lobby or on the stair.
He ate in the inn’s common room, then went upstairs to change. This was not usually a troublesome business, but tonight he was unaccountably fastidious, and Samuels’s face took on a grimly determined expression.
“I’m beginning to think you don’t want to go to this ball at all, sir,” he said, when Burford cast aside another cravat.
“Nonsense,” Burford said, although half-heartedly. In truth, he was not at all sure of his own wishes. Part of him wanted to be in the Assembly Rooms more than anything in the world, yet a part of him was terrified, too. He felt, and he could not say why, that tonight would seal his fate, and he was not sure that he was quite ready for such finality. “One more attempt, if you please, Samuel.”
This time he was satisfied. “Now go and find me a sedan chair, like a good fellow, and then you can be off. I shall not need you again tonight.”
He waited in the lobby for his sedan chair, his thoughts hopping wildly from Belle to Hope and back again. If only he could decide in his own mind what to do! He felt himself like a piece of flotsam, tossed about by the tide, at the mercy of the wind and waves. What would his father advise him to do? But that was no good, for his father was very keen on obligation and duty and doing what was expected from men of a certain station in society. However much he wanted to do his duty by Hope, he could not forget a pair of lovely eyes gazing imploringly into his. ‘You must choose, John,’ she had said. ‘You must choose.’ God have mercy, what was he to do?
23: Mr Burford's Choice
The sedan chair arrived, he stepped into it, he was conveyed to the Assembly Rooms and still he had not the least idea what he should do, or how he could decide. Slowly he climbed the wide stair to the ballroom, wafts of music trickling down to greet him. He was late, and the dancing was already well underway. They must already be on the second dance, or even the third. He passed through the arched entrance, he was announced although no one heard over the music, he made his way down the short flight of stairs to the floor.
The very first sight to greet his eyes was Belle, sitting beside her mother at the side of the room. She was leaning forward watching the dancers, her feet tapping in time to the music.
His heart leapt into his throat, with the familiar burst of joy at the sight of her. He ached to sweep her away from the noise and the crowds, to see her lovely eyes upturned to his, to revel in the warmth of her smile. Above all, he longed to kiss her again, to press his lips to hers, to taste the sweetness of her. There was a rightness to it that would not be denied. In that moment all his indecision fell away, and he knew, with great clarity of vision, what he must do.
His feet brought him to her without conscious effort. “Miss Allamont, would you do me the honour of this dance?”
Her face lit up at once. “Oh yes! Yes please!”
He led her to the nearest set, but they were at the very bottom of it, with a long wait before their turn. Now that he was with her, he found himself tongue-tied, not able to think of a single sensible remark.
She was more articulate. “You are late, Mr Burford,” she said teasingly. “Did you lose your way?”
That brought a laugh to his lips. “No such thing, I assure you. If you must know, I could not get my cravat tied.”
And then he was perfectly easy, and felt as comfortable as if they sat in her book room, drinking Madeira and eating cake. He could not take his eyes off her, but there were times as he moved about in the dance when he could see the other sets, and gradually began to spot friends. Amy and Mr Ambleside were not dancing but standing quietly together at the side of the room. Dulcie was dancing with Alex Drummond. Grace was noticeable as the only one in her set out of step. Then, to his shock, Hope danced past him going down their own set. She did not see him, but a brilliant smile lit her face, and her eyes sparkled with animation as she gazed at her partner.
“Who is that dancing with Miss Hope?” he said, leaning towards Belle.
“That is George Graham,” she answered. “He does not usually attend such events, but I suppose he is honouring his sister’s first ball. He has brought a great crowd of his Oxford friends, who have been swarming around my sisters all evening. Not me, of course,” she added, but her eyes were twinkling.
The dance ended soon after, and he led her off the floor, her arm tucked securely in his.
“Mama is on the other side of the room,” she murmured.
“I know,” he whispered back.
“Should you not return me there? So that my multitude of partners may know where to find me.”
She was smiling as she spoke, and her tone was so light that he felt it safe to say, “If you have partners looking for you, I shall be happy to take you to them. But if not, I should like to remain at your side.”
She blushed, but she answered very composedly, “I should like that too, Mr Burford.”
For a while they stood, watching the next dance. Her arm was still in his, and he dared to rest his hand on hers. She made no move to pull away. He saw Hope dancing again,
with another young man he did not recognise.
“She is enjoying herself,” he said, half to himself.
Belle cast him an anxious glance. “She is, yes. She is bespoken for almost every dance, but if you wish to go to her, I believe she has left a space for you.”
“I think she is doing perfectly well without me,” he said. “Miss Allamont, if we go up to the gallery, we might get some champagne, if you would like that.”
She pulled away from him, turning so that she faced him, her expression troubled. “Mr Burford, I… I am not sure…”
“It is a good place from which to observe the dance. And to talk, if you wish to do that,” he added quietly.
She nodded, and they ascended the stairs to the gallery. This was a wide balcony running around three sides of the ballroom, dotted with chairs and potted palms. Further back were the card rooms and supper rooms.
Burford ordered champagne from a passing servant, and then pulled two chairs to the front of the balcony. “If we sit here, we can be observed from below,” he said. “Just in case you were concerned about any impropriety.”
She smiled, not disconcerted. “Indeed, I was not. This is hardly a secluded spot, with so many people about.”
“That is very true,” he said sorrowfully. “It is not at all what I should wish for, under the circumstances. There should be moonlight, I think, and the scent of jasmine and oleander, or at least roses. There should be music in the distance, a harp, perhaps, or a spinet, playing a gentle tune. A fountain would be splashing somewhere nearby, and you would be—” He stopped to catch his breath, his heart racing, for there was no going back now. “You would be just as you are tonight, quite perfect.”
Her eyes widened, and she became perfectly still, her attention fixed on him.
A noisy group passed behind their chairs, shouting with laughter, but he barely noticed, he was so intent on Belle. She was listening intently, her lips parted, just as she had been before that fatal moment in his book room.
“And there should be poetry,” he went on softly. “There should always be poetry, do you not agree?”
After a momentary hesitation, she gave a tiny nod. Her cheeks were a little flushed, but otherwise she seemed quite composed. So public a place, yet he had to speak! He could not stop himself from expressing all the pent-up ardour in his heart, for if he did not, he felt as if he would burst. He wanted so much to touch her, but all he had were words, and for this one night it would have to be enough.
“’But to see her was to love her; Love but her, and love for ever.’”
“Oh!” she breathed, and it was no more than a sigh. “Mr Burford, are you choosing?”
“I am.”
“Oh!” Her hands flew to her mouth. “Oh, Mr Burford!”
“Please, do not cry! Not here! I am so sorry, I never meant… Oh dear!”
“No, I am all right.” With an effort she mastered herself. “It is only that I had all but given up on the possibility of… of such an outcome. I was sure that… everything was settled.”
He leaned forward eagerly. “You see, I have been thinking a great deal about your words of the other day.”
“Oh, I wish you would not!” she cried in distress. “Pray disregard everything I said! I am so ashamed of my behaviour that day. It was unforgivable of me.”
“But you were quite right to speak. Your words were exactly what I needed to wake me up. I have been drifting along in a dream, and it was time someone jolted me out of it. Sometimes one has to reach for the apple, you said, and that is what I am doing.”
“But what will you tell Hope?” she said.
“Nothing at all.”
“Nothing?”
He sighed. “What can I tell her? To say openly that my feelings and wishes have undergone a change… that would be cruel, I think. No, if we move very slowly, then, as she sees us together, she will gradually come to understand how matters stand.”
“It is no less cruel, I think.”
“Perhaps there is no way to avoid giving her pain, but I believe she suspects how things are already. However, there is another reason to take things slowly. I should like to pay court to you as you deserve, with all those little attentions that I never dared to show you before. And then, in time, I shall make my offer for you, and say all the words — the many, many words — that I cannot say here. Would that be acceptable to you?”
She nodded, her eyes filling with tears again, but she blinked them away.
“I beg your pardon for distressing you in so public a place, but I did not wish you to be in any doubt of my intentions. It is better to speak plainly. That is a lesson I have taken from you.”
She nodded again.
“Then drink your champagne, and in a little while perhaps I might have the honour of dancing with you again? For I have to tell you, Miss Allamont, you are quite the best dancer in this room.”
But as they made their way down the stairs again to the dance floor, the first person they saw was Hope, approaching them on Mr Drummond’s arm. Her white face made his heart lurch with fear. Belle’s hand on his arm tightened momentarily, and by instinct he covered her hand with his own. As they halted at the foot of the stairs, she drew a little closer to him.
Hope gave him a tremulous little smile as she curtsied. “Mr Burford…”
“Miss Hope. Drummond.” His throat was dry, but it was imperative to speak. “I t-t-trust you are enjoying the d-d-dancing, Miss Hope.”
Her face lit up in a way that only a short time ago would have turned his knees to jelly. “Oh, I am! I have never enjoyed myself so much in my life, for I have stood up for every dance. Miss Endercott managed to persuade George Graham to bring all his Oxford friends, so there are plenty of gentlemen and sometimes there have been two or three of them wanting to dance with me at the same time, and getting quite cross with each other. They were so funny!”
“I am very glad to hear that you are having a splendid time,” Burford said, and truly meant it.
“Thank you,” she said, and the wide smile spoke of her sincerity. Her gaze drifted to Belle and then back to Burford, and the smile slipped slightly. “I am… very happy to see that…” Again she glanced at Belle. “…that you are enjoying the evening, too,” she rushed on, colouring a little. “Both of you.”
Burford was too taken aback to say a single word, but luckily Hope raced on without pause.
“I think they are beginning the cotillion, Mr Drummond, and I should not like to miss any of it. May we go?”
“Of course,” Drummond said, with his easy smile. “Let us take our places at once. Good evening to you, Miss Belle, Burford.” His smile broadened as he looked at them, before he led Hope onto the floor.
“Well,” Burford said. Then, because his mind was too confused to be rational, “Well.”
“Are you regretting your choice, Mr Burford?” Belle said.
She spoke with her usual calmness, but he saw the anxiety in her expression. “Never that!” he said at once, and she gave him a warm smile. “Never, ever that. I am merely surprised.”
Belle nodded. “I am less so. Hope was not as happy as one might have expected regarding your inheritance. She rather enjoyed being the object of unrequited love, and the prospect of leaping straight from the schoolroom to the matron’s bench was not appealing to her. Also, I believe she has been aware for some time that you have changed towards her.”
“I have never been able to dissemble,” he said with a sigh. “Usually I would account that a virtue, but not in this case. Poor Hope! And the blame is entirely mine, in not recognising the difference between infatuation and love. She is very generous towards us. I did not expect it.”
“She will recover, in time,” Belle said. “With enough dancing, she may forget you altogether. Look at her now!”
Burford looked at the dancers, and there was Hope leaping and twirling, her face alight with exhilaration. He laughed, and patted Belle’s hand again. “She is almost as delightful a dan
cer as you, Miss Belle.” He was rewarded by a flush of embarrassed pleasure. “Still, I have been a fixed part of her hopes for so long that she is bound to feel some unhappiness. I am sorry for her, but she will find someone far more worthy of her affection than I, in time. And this means that we need not wait after all. Shall I call on you tomorrow?”
She laughed. “Let us see Amy married first.”
He smiled. “It shall be as you wish, Miss Belle.”
~~~~~
Belle heaved an impatient sigh. “I cannot understand what you find so objectionable in the idea. Do you not want to see Willowbye restored to its former splendour?” She looked around at the saloon’s faded wallpaper, the plasterwork grey with age and the chandelier thick with dust and shuddered. So much work needed, and yet still Cousin Henry resisted.
“We all do,” said Mary. “Really, Papa, it is a very generous offer. At least we will not have to sell Willowbye.”
“I shall never sell Willowbye,” Henry said fiercely. “It has too many memories. And I do not want to move to the Dower House. Why can Belle and Mr Burford not live there? Why does it have to be us?”
“Because Mr Burford has the money and we do not,” Mary said sharply. “The rent on offer is very generous, we can still have the use of the stables and coach house, and Mr Burford will undertake all the maintenance. Think how wonderful it will be to have roofs that do not leak like the village pump whenever it rains. And whenever they find somewhere permanent to live, you can have Willowbye back, fully repaired.”
Belle (The Daughters of Allamont Hall Book 2) Page 19