Paging Miss Galloway

by Susanne Marie Knight

  He sighed his regret. He had promised Raleigh that he would attend, so he had to be civil. “My thanks to you for your hospitality, sir. And to my patroness, Miss Newkirk and her mother."

  "Ah yes, I know the Viscountess well. Dear lady. And her daughter sings like an angel.” Guynette took a deep breath and prattled on about several prominent Bath citizens. The man showed no signs of leaving.

  Edward glanced at the toqued and feathered heads clustered around the Corinthian columns near the entranceway. All ladies. “Have my patronesses arrived?"

  Guynette stood on the tips of his silver-buckled shoes to also look around. “No, my lord. I believe not. Although ‘tis almost impossible to be certain with so many guests. Mostly female, you know. Regrettably, always a dearth of gentlemen about town desiring to dance."

  Edward spotted Raleigh's slender form entering from the adjacent Octagon Room. He had to restrain himself from dashing over to rejoin his friend. Instead he made a small bow. “I will detain you no longer, sir. No doubt there are dozens of young misses clamoring for your attention."

  The Master of the Ceremonies nodded wisely. “Indeed. But I shall be sure to introduce you to the most exceptional of the softer sex.” He gave Edward an avuncular smile.

  A shiver iced Edward's spine. “Just so.” As quickly as he could, he made his way to Raleigh, who rested against one of the marble columns.

  "Demmed fatiguing, isn't it?” Raleigh, also a study in black, removed his handkerchief and coughed into it. “All these nubile young bodies, but the only one I'm interested in isn't here."

  Edward smiled. Perhaps Cupid's arrow had truly hit his friend this time. “Patience. I have every confidence that you shall see Miss Newkirk tonight."

  Raleigh's blue eyes widened, then he ducked around the column. “She had better attend, for here comes the Master of the Ceremonies with two younglings in tow. If he has his way, you and I will spend the evening having our toes stepped upon by mealy-mouthed chits."

  "Unkind,” Edward murmured, but Raleigh had already scurried into the Octagon Room, most likely to try his hand at cards.

  Resigned to his fate, Edward turned toward Guynette.

  "Lord Tremaine,” the man said as he craned his neck, obviously looking for Raleigh. “I have two fashionable fair ones to introduce to you. Miss Argyle and Miss Fontaine."

  Edward glanced at the two equally giggly young ladies. They, in turn, batted their lashes at him. He bowed to both, then turned to the latter one. “Miss Fontaine, do you have a grandfather by the name of Mr. Hemsley?"

  More giggles. “Yes, my lord,” she tittered.

  Evidently, Hettie Fontaine was his destiny—at least for the moment. “Would you care to dance the first set?"

  "A minuet? Oh, I would love to!"

  Edward held his hand out to her, then walked with his partner to the dancing area in front of the musicians. He hoped, no, he prayed, it would not be a long night.

  * * * *

  Three women in a two-wheeled cabriolet, was one woman too many. Ballroom finery increased everyone's width, and Danielle ended up knocking elbows with Millicent Newkirk.

  "I'm so sorry,” Danielle apologized after a particularly bumpy jolt down a darkened Bath street threw her against her hostess’ rigid daughter.

  Millicent drew her shawl of white woolen crepe around her shoulders, smoothed the material where Danielle had collided, then turned to stare out the window. Not only was she rigid, but her rosebud lips had a tendency to pout. “We are so late. I do pray my young man will not lose hope and quit the Assembly Rooms before we arrive."

  Danielle smiled. Millicent's young man evidently didn't have a name. Or a name that she cared to share. She'd say, “My young man this” and “My young man that".

  Gracious. How could anyone be so infatuated with someone to that degree?

  An image of Edward, with his thick dark hair and serious eyes, came unbidden to her mind. What she saw made her widen her smile. She sighed. She could admit, to herself, that her heart did beat faster whenever she thought of him.

  Lady Yancy tut-tutted. She sat across from them with the bench to herself. “Now Millicent, ‘tis only a little after the hour. Traffic has been extremely heavy, you know. We simply cannot urge the horse any faster. Nevertheless, you girls are worth waiting for. All the young bucks will besiege you for dances. Mark my words."

  She turned her attention to her daughter. “Millicent, in that blue gown, you look as fresh as Aphrodite rising from the sea."

  As the figure sited in Botticelli's masterpiece was notoriously undressed, Millicent blushed. “Mother, that was Venus."

  Waving the ever-present handkerchief, Lady Yancy shook her head. The large feather plume from her turban fluttered in the wake of her movements. “Venus, Aphrodite. Roman, Greek, what is the difference? And you, Danielle, you are a vision of loveliness. If only Lady Galloway could see you now."

  Danielle also flushed. She did look rather well. How wonderful it felt to leave behind male apparel, and dress as a fashionable woman. Especially gratifying was not having to walk around with her breasts bound anymore. And if she could be permitted to praise herself, her figure did do her low-cut neckline justice.

  The borrowed white satin gown was very striking with its short puffed sleeves and scooped bodice edged in pink silk. To hide the alterations at the hem, the maid had sewn a matching pink flounced ruffle. Pink evening-length gloves and silk shawl completed the outfit. Her hair, thankfully feather-free, was dotted with white daisies amidst her curls.

  She wished her mother could, indeed, see her now.

  Lady Yancy clapped her gloved hands together. “Brunette and blonde. You two are perfect. And with your very different coloring, you both shall take Bath Society by storm!"

  Danielle didn't know about that. She had no big city experience to speak of. True, she'd always had admirers, but to take a ballroom by storm? Excitement built in her veins.

  But what about Benjamin? an inner voice niggled. What about Edward?

  She twirled a curl around her finger. Too bad neither of those gentlemen could see her in her finery. Especially Edward.

  She sighed again. Too, too bad.

  * * * *

  By the time the cabriolet reached the New Assembly Rooms, Millicent was in a decided fidget. She'd removed and then replaced her white gloves at least five times. Her mother had tut-tutted at least six. Conversation had stalled as much as their carriage had along the way.

  The imposing limestone building that was their destination took Danielle's breath away. Its many windows were ablaze with lights shining out into the night, and the portals into these hallowed halls contained a decided crush of Bath Society waiting to gain entrance.

  Upon alighting, they took their turn in line. Lady Yancy straightened her garments and adjusted her turban. “I own I am thrilled to take you to the ball, Danielle. We in the city are most fortunate to have this stylish establishment, you know. The Assembly Rooms evoke astonishment and admiration from all our visitors. They come from far and wide to revel here, yes, they most certainly do. Indeed, I vow you will never see such elegance anywhere in the realm."

  Since Danielle's previous balls were limited to Leeds and the surrounding towns, she believed Lady Yancy implicitly.

  Finally, it was their turn to walk inside, leaving the cool night air behind. The first thing that hit Danielle was heat from the crush of humanity around her. Overwhelming. She removed her fan from her reticule and waved it back and forth as she stepped into the elegant ballroom.

  And elegant it was, in addition to being a good deal cooler. The huge room was two stories high, which provided much needed ventilation.

  Looking upward, she smiled in delight. Suspended from the lofty ceiling were five magnificent chandeliers, responsible for the luminosity spilling out into the street. Large glass prisms on the chandeliers brightly radiated out into the ballroom, throwing a rainbow of swirling colors over the guests. It was as close to a beautiful fa
iryland as ever to be conceived.

  Millicent's voice broke through Danielle's enraptured thoughts. “I do not see my young man.” Millicent's teeth worried her lower lip. “Can he be dancing already, with another partner? Did he not wait for me? Oh, I must go and find him. Pray, excuse me."

  Lady Yancy exclaimed, “Upon my honor! Millicent, you cannot leave until the Master of the Ceremonies—"

  What Millicent could or could not do evidently did not concern her. She dashed off—a vision in her blue silk gown—as fast as could be expected considering the crowd of people milling about.

  Danielle also looked at dancers now mincing patterned steps of a minuet. A row of colors—women—contrasted with a row of mostly black—men—and swayed in tempo to the talented string quartet's music. The graceful melody was beguiling, and she tapped her slipped foot to the beat.

  Lady Yancy tut-tutted herself into a frenzy. “Whatever am I going to do with that child? If only the Viscount were still alive. I am ... beside myself."

  "My lady, please, do not fret.” Danielle hated to see her hostess so affected. “Everything will turn out all right. Millicent is very young."

  "She has one year to your twenty,” Lady Yancy said tartly. “You are a model of decorum next to her."

  Danielle had to stifle a laugh. Her, a model of decorum? Running away from home, as it were, and masquerading as a page named Danny? She patted the woman's hand. Poor Lady Yancy. She must've been truly rattled to forget the circumstances of Danielle's arrival. What could be done to help?

  An idea struck her. “My lady, why don't you procure us some refreshments? A cup of tea perhaps? While you are gone, I will find Millicent and bring her back to this pillar. Then we can wait until the Master of the Ceremonies approaches us. Will that soothe your mind?"

  "Oh, child! If you would. Please. I shall hurry.” She tilted her turbaned head. “Now where do I get tea again?"

  A nearby matron turned around and pronounced, “The Tea Room."

  Danielle grinned. Aptly named. She watched her hostess scurry off, then lifting her chin as she walked; Danielle looked for Millicent among the dancers.

  The tall girl was nowhere to be seen, either on the female minuet line or lounging around the sides. Maybe she exited into the Octagon Room?

  About to change direction, Danielle instead focused on one of the male dancers.

  She gasped. Holding the hand of a rather insipid beauty as they walked down the center of the rows, was a mountain of a man with a beautifully bronzed complexion. The man was dressed to perfection and was very dear to her heart. Edward.

  Edward. Good heavens. Edward was here ... dancing with someone else. Another partner.

  Gracious! Now she sounded like Millicent.

  Danielle fluttered her fan close to her face, then quickly backed away. She hoped he hadn't seen her. She prayed he hadn't recognized her.

  What was she to do?

  Hide. Escape. That was the only thing she could think of.

  Turning tail to run, metaphorically speaking, Danielle purposefully moved through the crowd and into the oddly shaped, pale yellow Octagon Room.

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  Chapter Eleven

  The short hairs on Edward's neck stood at attention. Darting his gaze left, then right, he scanned the great ballroom as best as he could considering he was in the middle of a dance. Nothing appeared out of place. Nothing appeared wrong. But something had alerted him, and he always trusted his intuition. His time as captain in His Majesty's Royal Navy had honed his senses to be prepared for danger.

  Danger? Here at the Assembly Rooms? He surveyed the area one last time, then dismissed his apprehension.

  "My lord,” Hettie Fontaine called while they made a turn around each other as dictated by the minuet. “Do you search for someone?"

  He bowed, as he was supposed to, then quickly replied, “Yes, my friend and I look for our patronesses, Miss Newkirk and her mother. Are you acquainted with them?"

  Hettie nodded, an action that bobbed the two feather plumes rising out of her overly large toque. “Indeed yes. I know them tolerably well."

  "Have they arrived?” he asked as he circled her again.

  She smiled brightly. “I did espy Miss Newkirk leaving her mother's side but a short while ago. Lady Yancy seemed particularly vexed that her daughter—"

  "Lady Yancy?” Edward froze. In that second, he recalled Benjamin Galloway's words: Been racking my brain box to remember. Something like Lady Manny? Yankee, mayhap? Clancy?

  Perhaps Yancy was the name that eluded Benjamin. Like lightening, Edward made the connection. During the search for Benjamin when they were at the Circus, Danny had seen the carriage containing Millicent Newkirk. Lady Yancy must have been the other occupant. No doubt Danny recognized the woman as an acquaintance of her mother's. A bosom bow. Once Danny found her brother and knew that he was in good hands, she must have taken off for Lady Yancy's address.

  And if so, perhaps she was at the Assembly Rooms tonight. Not as Danny, but as Danielle.

  A strange feeling fired his blood. There were too many ifs in his hypothesis, however it gave him hope. Hope that Danny was not only safe ... but here, close by.

  And if she was, he desired nothing more than to spank her over his knee for all the worry she put him through.

  "Lord Tremaine,” Hettie blinked her eyes at him, probably under the impression that the action enhanced her looks. “Are you feeling quite the thing? Would you ... care to partake of some refreshments in the Tea Room after the minuet is over?"

  With his new knowledge, every second here on the dance floor was agony, but he tapped down his impatience to begin the chase. He smiled at the young woman by his side, and was very much aware of the role reversal. He was the one who was supposed to be solicitous of his partner's well-being, not she. Hettie must have worked up her courage to make such an inquiry.

  Edward spoke as kindly as he could. “I do beg your pardon for my distraction, Miss Fontaine. A matter of extreme importance has come to my attention. I must rectify this situation as soon as possible."

  She lowered her gaze. “I understand, sir."

  For all her giggles and batting lashes, Hettie Fontaine was an excellent female.

  The minuet was not much longer. As the string quartet readied to begin a country dance, Edward returned her to a seat to await her next partner. He, in turn, hurried off to the adjoining Octagon Room.

  A few card games were in progress, but Edward had no interest in those. After a quick glance around, he observed his friend with a young miss standing by one of the fireplaces. By the enthralled look on Raleigh's face, there could be no doubt as to the lady's identity.

  Edward made his way over to the couple.

  Raleigh released Millicent's hand, then inclined his head at Edward. “Sterling, old fellow! Just the man I was talking about. You must become acquainted with the very striking and excessively desirable Miss Newkirk."

  "Oh Lord Raleigh.” The lady rapped Raleigh on the knuckles with her fan. “You are most incorrigible."

  Edward bowed at the dark-haired beauty, “Delighted, Miss Newkirk. And I am certain you are correct on your assessment of Raleigh's character."

  She made a pretty curtsey. “I am very honored to meet you, my lord. Lord Raleigh has said much about you."

  "All bouncers, I assure you.” As Edward smiled, he wracked his brain. How the devil was he going to introduce the topic of Danny?

  "No bouncer this,” Raleigh interjected. “You will never guess who Miss Newkirk's houseguest is?"

  Edward crossed his fingers behind his back. “Someone we both know?"

  When Raleigh threw back his head laughing, Edward noted an appreciative gleam entering Millicent's eyes. She seemed to have a decided partiality for Raleigh.

  "In a way, Sterling, in a way. Miss Galloway, the very one who's been mentioned on our journey here, is now staying with the Viscountess, Lady Yancy. You remember that business with her brothe
r."

  "Indeed.” Edward raised his eyebrow, waiting for more information.

  His friend did not disappoint. “Not that I'm interested in collecting the debt, however she's here tonight. A taking little thing, you know."

  At that description, Millicent crossed her arms across her bosom and pouted. Very often beauties only cared to have praises sung about themselves, not others.

  Raleigh was astute enough to notice his ladylove's displeasure. “I say, just a phrase.” He placed his arm through hers. “Let us stroll about the room, hey? Perhaps we can join in on the next dance."

  She smiled a little mistily, then lowered her lashes. “I would like that, sir."

  While she placed her fan back in her reticule, Raleigh pulled Edward aside, and whispered, “Quite a resemblance between Miss Galloway and our Danny boy. Uncanny. I'll wager he was born on the wrong side of the blanket."

  "Er, just so.” Edward coughed. “Do you know Miss Galloway's whereabouts?"

  "Saw her dashing in here like the hound from Hades was nipping at her heels. I believe she went into the next room. The Tea Room. Must've worked up a devil of a thirst!"

  Edward thanked his friend, then left the pair to their own devices. At last he was close to locating Danny. So close, he could almost taste her.

  That peculiar thought made him stop mid-step. He bumped into a scholarly looking gentleman, and apologized.

  The hour was perilously near to nine p.m. As he understood, it was at this time that the Tea Room would become unbearably crowded. The musicians took a rest, leaving the guests to wander into the Tea Room for refreshment.

  Edward made haste to avoid the rush.

  The room was still swarming with people, however. As he strolled inside, he took his time sweeping his gaze over all ladies—young, old, and in between. He even included the gentlemen. With Danny, who knew how she would appear?

  Past the tables, past servants carrying cups of hot tea, past anyone and everyone, Edward walked in his measured way. Groups of men and women talked in animated conversations around him.