“Such a fine dress to pay a call on an old widow?” Doyle asked, dark eyes glinting.
“Well, I will be in the company of James Allen, after all,” Julia said, taking advantage of the fact that people expected a courtship between them.
“I see.” Doyle gave her a pointed look. “And in who else’s company, I wonder?”
Julia rose and stepped to her dressing chest. “That reminds me, Doyle. Here’s a little gift I’ve been meaning to give you.” She extracted a bottle of sherry she kept there for this very purpose. It wasn’t the first time she’d had to persuade a servant to cooperate and, hopefully, keep silent.
Later, before she went downstairs, Julia was careful to put on a long cape and tie its hood under her chin. She did not want her fine evening gown or elegantly curled hair to raise her mother’s suspicions.
The Allens’ chaise arrived on schedule, and Julia went out without waiting for a servant to announce them. As she’d told her mother, James and Walter rode alongside the carriage.
She tried to look objectively at James Allen in his dark coat, gold threaded waistcoat, and frilly cravat. Yes, he was very handsome. In fact, he was in danger of being prettier than she was.
The coachman stopped at Mr. Ramsay’s house to pick up Aurora and Mr. Valcourt. In this instance Julia thought it a good thing Mr. Valcourt did not think himself equal to such a long ride on horseback—at least not as long as the horse was Apollo. For with him and his sister inside the chaise with her and Patience, and the curtains drawn, no one was likely to see Mr. Valcourt and report his presence to her mother.
Miss Valcourt looked charming in a pale yellow satin gown with a crossover bodice. But it was the sight of Mr. Valcourt in full evening dress that stole her breath. Fashionably tied white linen cravat, brocade waistcoat, black tailcoat and breeches, white stockings, and black leather shoes. The dark hair falling across his brow framed his striking blue-grey eyes. Julia tried not to stare.
When they reached the outskirts of Holsworthy, they stopped at Mrs. Hearn’s house as promised. The Allens were honest by nature. Mr. Valcourt and his sister offered to wait outside, but Patience insisted they come in and take refreshment. Her grandmother shared the unfailing cheerfulness of the Allen family but was not encumbered with a long memory. After she had repeated the same story for the third time, Patience rose, and upon her cue they all followed and excused themselves. The rose hip jam was given and sweetly received, as was a basket of baked goods and jarred delicacies from the Medlands kitchens.
Duty discharged, the young people continued on into the center of Holsworthy to its assembly rooms above the Red Lion.
Mr. Valcourt descended before her and offered his hand to help her alight before the groom could do so. She placed her gloved hand in his, enjoying the warm pressure of his fingers on hers. He held her hand a moment longer than necessary, but she did not mind in the least.
Looking up, Julia noticed light and music streaming from the inn’s upper windows. Hearing it, her heart tingled with excitement. Her first ball. She was not without some trepidation as well, for she knew only a few dances. She took consolation in the fact that Patience and James knew only a handful more than she did, and Walter . . . ? Well, at least she would not be the least skilled dancer there.
Alec recognized the music as “The Caledonian Highland Reel.” His pulse accelerated. He’d had his reservations about attending the ball as a member of Miss Midwinter’s party, especially after his lofty speech about not sneaking around. But in the end, he found he could not resist. In his pocket, he had brought several pamphlets, in case he met any prospective pupils.
Leaving the horses and carriage in the care of the Allens’ coachman and hostlers, the party of six took themselves indoors and up the stairs. In the vestibule, Miss Midwinter removed her wrap. Alec’s attention was snagged by the elegant, soft green evening dress. The short sleeves displayed her lovely upper arms. The wide embroidered neckline, her fine collarbones and décolletage.
He met her gaze. “You look beautiful, Miss Midwinter,” he said, before he could stop himself.
She smiled. “Thank you. So do you.”
Mirth and pleasure warmed his chest, and he smiled in return.
The assembly room was crowded and stuffy—no wonder they had opened the windows. Musicians sat at one end of the room, while a line of men and another of women faced each other at the center. The couples—their cheeks flushed with exertion or perhaps wine punch—smiled at partners made prettier by the dance. Men young and old wore Sunday best, and females wore their finest frocks of various levels of fashion. Older folks not dancing sat opposite the musicians, along with single ladies in want of partners.
“What is it?” Walt asked of the tune, voice tense. “I don’t think I know it.”
Alec gave him the name of the reel. The dance ended a few minutes later and a second reel was called.
Patience and Julia joined the throng of unclaimed ladies. With their fashionable gowns and regal bearings, Alec thought the men might be intimidated to ask them to dance. If only they realized the ladies’ aloof expressions hid anxiety—afraid to be asked to dance, afraid not to be. James Allen stood between them—another hindrance, no doubt.
James asked Miss Midwinter to dance, but she shook her head.
“Not yet. I’m too nervous. Let’s watch for a while first.”
Unable to seek out a partner for herself, Aurora stood off to the side as well, hiding her restlessness behind a patient smile. It was difficult to stand still when the music was good and the dance a favorite.
“Come, Aurora. Do me the honor, will you?” Alec asked. “No one dances as well as you do.”
“But wouldn’t you rather ask one of the other ladies?”
He smiled. “Another time.”
He offered his arm, and his sister took it, eyes sparkling.
Alec did not mean to show off, truly he didn’t. He could not help it if they were the best dancers there. He was aware of admiring and perhaps a few envious looks. But moments into the dance, Alec forgot about the observers and gave himself over to the enjoyment of the reel. He focused on his sister, who was clearly relishing every step, and smiled at his neighbors with sincere warmth whenever the figures of the steps brought them face-to-face.
Afterward, Alec escorted Aurora to the side of the room where the other members of their party stood.
“You two make it look so easy,” Miss Midwinter said.
“Thank you,” Alec replied. He noticed Mr. Pugsworth, his uncle’s senior clerk, standing against the wall, looking around hopefully. He also saw a young woman he recognized.
“Look, there’s Miss Thorne.”
Walt’s head snapped to the side. “Where?”
Alec was surprised to see Ben’s sister, Tess, in attendance. He was glad to know dancing was not limited to worship for her family—or at least for her. Alec did not see Ben or their parents.
Tess looked fresh and pretty in a simple ivory gown, her reddish-brown hair pinned to the back of her head in a thick coil.
Alec was torn between asking Miss Thorne or Miss Midwinter to dance, when another man settled the question for him. A militia officer in red bowed before Miss Midwinter, and how she beamed and fluttered her lashes at him, quick to accept his offer. Alec doubted they had even been introduced.
James Allen frowned and asked Aurora to dance. Alec was about to ask Tess, when he remembered Walter. He looked up at the tall man and found his eyes clapped longingly on the young woman. Tess glanced over at him, but Walter quickly averted his face, neck reddening. Alec delivered an elbow to Walt’s side, which earned him a glare but nothing else.
With a significant look at Miss Thorne, Alec asked Patience Allen to dance.
As he and Patience danced to “Comical Fellow,” with its two-hand turns and cheerful claps, Alec now and again glanced over at Walter standing ramrod straight, staring ahead. Several yards away, Tess stood, unconsciously swaying to the music, watching the
dancers with a small smile. Had she any idea of the effect she had on the man?
After the dance ended, Alec escorted Patience back to the others. Finding Miss Midwinter already engaged for the next set, Alec asked for the following, and she agreed with a lovely smile.
Then Alec walked over and greeted his uncle’s clerk. “Hello, Pugsworth. Why are you not dancing?”
The man pulled a regretful face. “You haven’t seen her, I trust? Miss Llewellyn?”
“No. But there are plenty of other ladies in need of a partner.”
“I don’t know . . .” Pugsworth shrugged. “I’m not very good at talking to females.”
“Come over and I shall introduce you to a few.” Alec nodded toward Miss Midwinter, Miss Allen, and his sister.
The man’s Adam’s apple bobbed. “Thanks, Valcourt. But . . . maybe later.”
“Very well.”
Realizing Walter had still made no move to talk to Miss Thorne, let alone dance with her, Alec approached her himself and bowed before her. “Miss Thorne, good evening.”
“Mr. Valcourt. I didn’t expect to see you here.”
“I am surprised to see you as well. Though a pleasant surprise, of course. Your brother is not here, I take it?”
She shook her head. “I have taken a place as companion to the Strickland family. They brought me along as chaperone for their daughter. But I don’t think she is in much danger of needing one.”
She nodded toward her charge, a sweet girlish creature dancing with a rotund young clergyman, head to toe in black, save his snowy tabbed collar.
“So I see. I hope that means you are at liberty to dance?”
Her eyes shone. “I believe so, yes. Though I’ve had little experience, as you can imagine.”
“Then may I have the pleasure of this dance?” he asked, earning himself another glare from Walter and a sweet smile from Tess. Alec could not in good conscience allow the woman to stand there without a partner all night, regardless of Walter’s feelings. Besides, the young woman was very appealing, and he longed to dance with her, to discover if her enthusiasm in church might be matched with her enthusiasm on the dance floor.
He was not disappointed.
He was disappointed, however, when he observed Miss Midwinter dancing with yet another dashing officer. Her partner danced with abandon, exaggerating the steps and giving Julia smoldering looks whenever the dance brought them in close contact. Rather than discouraging him, Julia mimicked his boisterous capering and met his flirtatious looks boldly. The officer whispered something in her ear, and she laughed, too loudly, at whatever he had said.
Alec returned his attention to his own partner. Together he and Tess danced their way down the line of couples. When they reached the bottom of the set and waited to rejoin the dance, they were free to converse. He had her undivided attention for several minutes, yet couldn’t help but wish he had another lady’s attention instead.
When the set ended, Alec eagerly went to find Julia to claim her for the dance he had previously requested. He looked this way and that but could not find her. The music started, and he saw her walking arm in arm onto the floor with yet another officer, their heads close in conversation. Alec’s stomach clenched in disappointment. Had she simply forgotten? Or had she found this man too appealing to pass up?
Alec glanced over at James Allen. Did James really cherish marital hopes for Miss Midwinter? Observing him throughout the evening, Alec had seen little evidence of such feelings as the young man danced with one elegant young lady after another. James, or at least his position as heir of Medlands, was clearly well known, for several fathers sought him out for introductions with their daughters. This left Alec to partner Aurora and Patience for much of the evening.
Finally, several dances later, a sheepish Julia appeared at Alec’s side. “I am sorry I forgot our set earlier.” She winced. “I have broken one of the rules, haven’t I?”
Alec knew another rule of etiquette was to accept an apology with grace, so he said pleasantly, “No harm done.”
He offered his arm and led her onto the floor. Oranges and Lemons was called, a square set dance for four couples. Around the room, couples grouped together. Alec and Julia found themselves with James and Miss Strickland, Patience with—surprisingly—Mr. Pugsworth. And Tess with a gentleman they did not know.
“Where are you folks from?” the gentleman asked, with a general smile at them all.
“Beaworthy,” James replied, as self-appointed spokesman.
The gentleman’s bushy brows rose. “Beaworthy? I didn’t think anyone there danced.”
“Well, as you will soon see, sir, we don’t—at least not well. We are novices. At least most of us.”
Patience spoke up, nodding toward Alec. “But Mr. Valcourt here is our dancing master. If you should ever need his services, we would not hesitate to recommend him.”
“You don’t say,” the man replied with a thoughtful look at Alec. “I shall keep that in mind.”
Dear Miss Allen, Alec thought gratefully. He glanced around for his sister, and glimpsed her trying to cajole Walter to dance, without success.
The music began. Alec reached out and took Miss Midwinter’s hand, and around the square the other couples joined inside hands as well. He liked the feel of her hand in his, though with both of them wearing gloves, the act lacked the warm intimacy they’d enjoyed in the churchyard.
The couples stepped forward and back twice, then released hands. Each honored his partner, then turned to honor his corner. The men joined hands and circled around before bowing to their partners, then their corners once more. Then the ladies followed suit. The pattern was repeated, this time turning in the opposite direction.
When Alec reclaimed Julia’s hand at last, he said, “You are doing very well, Miss Midwinter. I knew you were a natural.”
“Not at all.” She grinned. “I’ve had a good teacher.”
All too soon, Alec’s set with Miss Midwinter ended. And with all the officers lining up to dance with her, he did not have another chance to stand up with her all night.
For the final Boulanger of the evening, Alec danced with Aurora again, as he had for the first. When the music ended, Alec turned toward the musicians to offer appreciative applause. He started, nearly stumbling. One of the musicians looked familiar. He knew that man playing the pipe. It was the man who had come to his rescue with the Wilcox brothers, the man from the forge. A smith who played? Unusual, but not unheard of, he supposed.
“Alec?” Aurora asked in concern.
“Forgive me. I recognized someone. That’s all.”
Aurora Valcourt and Patience kept up a steady flow of pleasant conversation on the ride back to Beaworthy, but Mr. Valcourt remained quiet, staring out the window at the passing countryside. Julia sat quietly as well, regretting how the evening had gone. She had thought she could enjoy the attention of Mr. Valcourt and all those dashing men in uniform. But with a sinking feeling, she realized she had probably alienated Mr. Valcourt by flirting with the officers, forgetting their dance, and then dancing with him only once. Nor had she enjoyed seeing Mr. Valcourt dance with that pretty Miss Thorne—smiling into her face with rapt attention. At the sight, Julia had felt an unfamiliar knife of jealousy prick her heart.
Mr. Valcourt had been perfectly polite when they had danced, but Julia had spent so much time honoring her corner, joining hands with the other ladies, and passing each gentleman in a circular hey, that she’d barely had opportunity to smile at Mr. Valcourt, let alone converse. And now this cool reserve in the carriage. He was not rude—he answered any question put to him but then returned to silence.
The evening had not been quite as delightful as Julia had envisioned. She wondered if it would be worth the price she would no doubt pay for it.
They dropped off the Valcourts, and then the Allens’ carriage stopped at Buckleigh Manor. James dismounted and escorted her to the door. There Julia thanked him, and waved farewell to the others.
> She entered the vestibule, and as she’d feared, there sat Lady Amelia in a straight-backed wooden chair. Waiting for her.
She was clearly not happy. “There you are, Julia. I began to wonder what had become of you. I called at Medlands to see if you had stayed for dinner, perhaps, after calling on Mrs. Hearn. Sir Herbert and Lady Allen seemed surprised to hear I thought they had accompanied you to Holsworthy.”
“But James and Walter did, as I mentioned they would,” Julia defended. “In fact, James escorted me to our door just now.”
Lady Amelia hesitated at that, then went on. “So you went to visit Mrs. Hearn. I became concerned when I learned there was an annual festival in Holsworthy on this very night.”
“Oh? Who told you that?”
“I hardly think the source important. I began to worry you might be caught—unaware—in the unruly crowd of revelers.”
“I am perfectly well, as you see. Still, I would like to know who thought it so important to worry you needlessly.”
“Needlessly? I don’t agree.”
Doyle stepped from the shadows. The lady’s maid had likely been listening all along. “I happened to recall the annual ball in Holsworthy, miss. Always the third Friday in March, is it not? I mentioned it to your mother without thinking, really.”
“Right,” Julia said sharply. “No harm intended, I’m sure.”
“Of course not.” The lady’s maid dipped her head and floated up the stairs like a dark specter.
“That woman,” Julia said, regretting she’d bothered to give Doyle the sherry. “She loves nothing more than to see the two of us at each other’s throats.”
“As do you, I think,” Lady Amelia mused, then continued, “I even called in at Mr. Ramsay’s house—and was unhappy to learn that Mr. Valcourt and his sister were not at home, but had gone with the Allens to Holsworthy.”
At the thought of her parent checking up on her so publically, mortification heated Julia’s neck, but she forced herself to hold her mother’s gaze.
The Dancing Master Page 19