by Fanny Finch
“A ridiculous notion,” the Countess said. “This is your first ball, is it not? Jitters are to be expected. It is only that most ladies have their first ball at fourteen or so.
“But even though you are older it is not through any fault of yours. It is only natural that you would be somewhat distressed. You needn’t apologize for it.”
Maria felt relief flooding her veins like cool, refreshing water. “That is wonderful to hear.”
“But come, why are you speaking to us?” Mrs. Rutlage asked. “You ought to be dancing!”
“Oh, I’m quite sure nobody will wish to dance with me,” Maria said.
It was not as though she was hiding in a corner. Although she was surrounded by the other ladies she could be quite clearly seen. If a man had wished to dance with her she would have been approached by now.
And she did not wish for one of the ladies to call over their son. If only because she did not wish for the embarrassment of knowing that she was a pity dance, a lady that they asked only because their mothers insisted.
“Are you so certain of that?” Mrs. Rutlage replied. Her gaze danced up over Maria’s shoulder playfully.
Maria turned around to see Lord Reginald standing there. He cleared his throat.
“Pardon my interruption, ladies. I know firsthand what a gifted conversationalist Miss Worthing is. But I had hoped that I might trouble her for the next dance.”
Maria stood up, probably too abruptly. She hadn’t imagined that Lord Reginald would dance with her. But he probably had been pressed to do it by his sister. That way Maria would get in at least once dance that evening.
“Oh,” she said, rather inelegantly. “I—yes. It would be my pleasure.”
She curtsied to the ladies and allowed Lord Reginald to lead her onto the dance floor.
“I hope that I was not interrupting anything,” he said. The last dance had just ended and so the other dancers were all getting into position.
“Not at all. Those ladies were being most thoughtful.”
“They seemed to genuinely enjoy your company. I have rarely seen them look so delighted.”
“Many of them knew my parents when they were young. It was wonderful to hear them speak more on my mother.”
“You must miss her,” Lord Reginald smiled at her as Maria took her position.
This, she knew. She had quickly picked up the new dances that the siblings had taught her. Maria relaxed a little, squaring her shoulders easily.
“I do,” she admitted, as the music struck up. “Do you not miss yours?”
“I am much more used to it,” the duke replied as they began the first steps. “My mother died when my sister and I were quite young. Yours is more recent. And I suspect that you were closer with your mother than we were with ours. Despite how much we loved her.”
There was a pause as they separated and wove between some other dancers and were then back together again.
“But I fear that is a more depressing topic than dancing calls for,” Lord Reginald said with a smile. “Tell me, are you feeling better since dinner?”
“Oh, yes, those ladies were quite kind. They said the most flattering things. Although I am sure that they were only trying to be kind to the daughter of a woman for whom they clearly had a fondness.”
“Nonsense. Those women can be catty if they wish to be.”
“I do wish you would be kinder in your disposition,” Maria admitted, before she could think of what an impertinent thing it was to say. “I apologize, I—”
The duke shook his head as they countered around one another. “Never apologize for speaking your mind around me, Miss Worthing. I value your forthrightness.”
He sounded quite earnest, as he always did. Maria had not valued, until this evening, how honest and plain Lord Reginald was in his manner. After dealing with that awful dinner, she had a new appreciation for someone who was direct in their manner.
“I am glad to hear it,” Maria admitted. She hoped that she wasn’t blushing. She wanted so badly to retain at least a little sophistication around Lord Reginald.
“In that case,” she added, “I do wish that you would give more people the benefit of the doubt. Those ladies were nothing short of lovely to me. They treated me as if I were a long-lost niece.”
“Most of their sons and daughters are already married,” Lord Reginald replied. “Therefore, they do not need to size you up. They can treat you as an individual, rather than competition for their daughters, or a catch for their sons.”
“And I think that is unnecessarily harsh of you in your judgment,” Maria said.
“I shall believe it when I see it,” Lord Reginald said, and left it at that. “In other news, perhaps you might twirl a little more when you turn.”
“What for?”
“Why do you think that I asked you to dance?” Lord Reginald asked. “So that the other men might see you dancing.”
Disappointment and elation warred equally in her chest.
On the one hand, it was sweet of the duke to dance with her so that he might get other men to dance with her. Dancing with a duke immediately upped her status in the room. And after seeing how well she danced, the other men would want to have a turn with such an able partner.
But on the other hand, it hurt to know that he was not asking her to dance simply because he wanted to. He was doing it as a favor to her. As a way to help her out. Perhaps even Miss Reginald had encouraged him to. It wasn’t because he had a particular fondness for her and wanted to spend time with her.
She knew that she was nothing special to him. They had a bond through their fathers and because he was so generously letting her live with him. But sometimes a girl liked to hope…
In any case, it didn’t matter. She wasn’t—didn’t—couldn’t, entertain anything for Lord Reginald. It was only that he was charming and the first man of real acquaintance that she had in London.
The first man of real acquaintance she’d had at all, in fact.
So that was all that there was to it. It was just a passing, imagined fancy. Based solely on his proximity and familiarity. It would fade.
She had to find herself a proper husband. Not that Lord Reginald would not be. But a man that she actually had a chance at marrying.
And so she twirled a little more, and laughed appropriately as Lord Reginald told her amusing little anecdotes and added “be sure to laugh” at the end in a whisper. She truly did find it amusing, or at least, the conspiracy of it felt amusing to her, so the laughs were genuine.
“Very good,” he instructed her. “I suspect that you shall have a full dance card after this.”
Maria was filled with half terror, half hope. “But what on earth shall I say to them?” she asked. “I can hardly discuss my late mother with them.”
“Just pretend that they are me. You seem quite comfortable and at ease in my presence.”
“You I have known for a month. Of course I should be more at ease. But I shall have never spoken to these men in my life!”
“Then pretend that they are those lovely older ladies you were speaking to just now. You did not know them from Eve when you sat down with them. And yet you seemed to be well at ease with them by the time I walked over.”
“But what if I forget the man’s name or say the wrong one? What if I say something unforgivably rude?”
“You will not,” Lord Reginald said firmly. As if he could will it into a universal law like gravity, just by saying so. “You must only have some confidence in yourself.”
Maria wanted to laugh, but that would have been rude. Confidence? She was certain that her confidence was shot to pieces. If she’d ever had any to begin with.
Not even those kind ladies could truly bring it back. It was the younger men and women that she needed to impress. Her peers—at least in age.
The dance was ending, though. There was no more time to find or regain her confidence.
Lord Reginald escorted her off the dance floor. This would be
the moment of truth now. The moment where another young man would approach her to dance…or not.
“I’ll leave you,” the duke murmured. “Otherwise the other men might think I have claimed you for the next dance as well.”
He bowed to her, and Maria curtsied automatically.
Once he had left though, she felt terribly alone.
Lord Reginald was familiar to her. She felt safe with him. She felt adrift now. She couldn’t go back to those ladies from before. Could she?
Nor could she see Miss Reginald anywhere.
“Pardon me, Miss Worthing?”
She turned. Mrs. Dale was standing there, a young man by her side. “Allow me to introduce you, my dear, if I may. This young gentleman was just inquiring about you. Mr. Upton, Miss Maria Worthing. Miss Worthing, Mr. John Upton. He is a fine friend of the family.”
Maria curtsied. Mr. Upton looked to be a nice man. He had fine features, with dark hair and dark blue eyes.
“I was hoping that you might do me the honor of accompanying me for the next dance?” he asked.
Ah, so that was why Mrs. Dale had introduced him. Two people could not speak to each other unless they were introduced by a mutual acquaintance, and as the hostess, Mrs. Dale would of course know and could introduce everybody.
Although Maria could not help but wonder if Mrs. Dale had impressed upon Mr. Upton the need for a partner for Maria. She hoped that this was not a pity dance.
The job of a hostess was to ensure that all of her guests were enjoying themselves. If a young lady was not dancing, then the hostess could find and ask one of the extra gentlemen, if there were any, to step in for her.
At times, Miss Reginald had told Maria, that meant a married man had to step in and help.
This could very well be an example of that.
But Mr. Upton seemed genuinely pleased to take her arm and lead her to the dance floor, where they set up for the dance.
Maria could now see Miss Reginald, down a few couples and preparing to dance with someone else. Lord Reginald was on her other side, down a few couples, with a young lady in pink. Not, Maria noticed, one of the ladies from dinner.
The dance music started up, and she focused in on her partner.
Thankfully, Mr. Upton took up the thread of conversation almost at once. He asked from where she hailed, if she had any siblings, who her father was.
He seemed genuinely interested in her background, if a little intimidated by the thought of living in the colonies.
“I think I should die of heatstroke before the month were out,” he admitted.
They managed to keep up the thread of conversation all through the dance, and more than once Maria got him to laugh. She wasn’t even trying.
She was only saying things that came to her mind. She tried not to be rude, not to speak out of turn or to say anything that was too forward.
She should probably have been flirtatious or coquettish like Miss Reginald had tried to teach her. But those lessons in wit had quickly fallen to the wayside in favor of teaching her the new dance steps and reminding her of her table manners.
And so she just spoke as plainly as she could, and tried to compliment him. People always liked compliments. And she tried to listen as well. People liked to know that they were being listened to and that the person cared.
It seemed to be working. Mr. Upton secured the promise of another dance from her later in the evening. After that another young man came up, and Mr. Upton was pressed to introduce them.
That dance went quite well if she did say so herself. She hoped she wasn’t bragging. It was just that the young gentleman seemed quite pleased with her.
Then after that Miss Reginald came up to introduce her to a few different men, acquaintances of hers. They quickly filled up her dance card and soon Maria found that she was dancing all night.
It was wonderful. It quite made up for the dinner before. She could almost forget how scared and hurt she had been earlier. Dancing was lovely. She had never realized how much fun it could be.
She whirled around the dance floor. She did her best to keep track of all of the men. They all seemed to be quite nice. Some were wittier than others. A few were a bit dull. Others were a bit too boisterous for her.
But they all got the same listening ear. She knew it would be rude if they thought themselves to not be valued by her. She could well imagine how difficult it could be for them to get up the courage to be introduced to her and then ask her to dance. She was a stranger to them—and she knew firsthand how terrifying it was to be introduced to a stranger and told to converse.
And so she did her best to listen and ask questions prompting them to tell her more. Besides, if she learned as much about them as possible she would sooner know if they would be well suited as her husband.
That was important to her. She knew that she only had the season. But she was not going to set either herself or a poor man up for misery by not being prudent. The man she agreed to marry must in some way complement her, even if hoping for genuine romantic love was too much.
All of the men were nice enough, though. They were all pleasant to look at. Although Maria tried not to focus on that too much, for she did not want to be vain. Not everyone was fortunate to be graced with handsomeness. A personality, she thought, could endear her to someone and make their face lovelier with time.
None of the men quite stood out to her, though. It was not that she was hoping for the feeling of being struck by lightning. But she was at least hoping for something akin to what she had felt when she first saw Lord Reginald.
It was silly of her, she knew. It was nothing more than a girlhood crush that she had on him. But it was all that she had to go on. All that she could pinpoint as something akin to the rush of affection she hoped to have for a husband.
Was it so wrong that it was her waypoint, her north star, when she had nothing else?
She did not even realize how tired she was until Miss Reginald found her after a dance. “I hope that was your last dance, my dear,” she said.
“It was,” Maria confirmed.
“Then I think it is time we went home.”
“Oh, but I’m still enjoying myself!”
Miss Reginald shook her head. “Just you wait, my dear.”
They bid goodbye to their host and hostess. Mrs. Dane especially impressed upon them the necessity of seeing them again. “You must call upon me sometime soon, Miss Worthing,” she said.
Maria could only blush and stammer out her thanks and her assurances that she would stop by at the earliest opportunity.
They climbed into the carriage, the three of them. Miss Reginald looked content but Lord Reginald looked nothing short of relieved to be escaping.
“How did you enjoy it?” Miss Reginald asked as the carriage pulled away.
Perhaps it was good that they had left the ball. Maria’s limbs were beginning to feel quite heavy. “I enjoyed it…” she had to stifle a yawn. “A great deal. More than I expected.”
“Once that dreadful dinner was got through,” Lord Reginald grumbled.
His sister shot him a warning look. “I think that you handled yourself quite well out there on the dance floor. You did not have to sit down once tonight.”
“Yes, it was very kind of those gentlemen to dance with me. I am certain that it is only because I am so new. And because of my upbringing in the colonies. It must be so rare of them to meet someone from there.”
Lord Reginald looked as though he might say something, but then checked himself, as if he had thought better of it.
“And did you like any of them in particular?” Miss Reginald asked.
Maria thought about lying for a moment, but then shook her head. She did not want to disappoint Miss Reginald but she couldn’t lie to her. And it was only the beginning of the season. Surely she was not expected to fall head over heels at the first ball.
“I’m afraid not. They were all quite pleasant, though. I did not dislike any of them. It is only that I
cannot bring myself to say that any of them is head and shoulders above the others in my preference.”
“Of course not,” Lord Reginald said. “They are all dullards.”
“I thought they were quite interesting,” Maria said. It was rude of her perhaps, but Lord Reginald had told her that he wanted her to speak her mind. And so she would.
“I think that they only need someone to really listen to them. They talked about all sorts of things. Did you know that Mr. Parhen collects butterflies? And that Mr. Upton was present at the birth of a foal as a child?
