Laura stood in front of the oval looking glass, twisting this way and that. Bessie stood right behind her, her eyes darting between Laura's face and her reflection.
“Do you like it, Lady Laura?”
“What is it called, Bessie?”
“I don't know but Lucy says this style goes best with an empire waistline gown.”
“My head feels like a pincushion. Do we need so many hairpins?” Laura grumbled gracelessly.
A glimpse of Bessie's face in the mirror had her turning around. “I must say the style becomes me. You went to a lot of trouble over it.”
Pleased, Bessie brought the gown. A pale shade of peach, it was of a simple cut. The long sleeves ended at the wrist and the hemline was scalloped. The only jewelery Laura wore was an onyx brooch with a spray of silver flowers.
Laura didn't need anyone to tell her that she looked very well. Bessie had curled her hair and pinned up most of it, leaving a handful to cluster around her forehead. Nevertheless, she was pleased when her mother and her aunt exclaimed over her appearance. Gareth smiled appreciatively while offering her his arm. As usual, they stopped at Severn House. Lady Catherine and Lady Helena joined the duchess in her carriage. Lady Maria went with Laura and Lord Daventon.
Finally, they were drawing less attention, Laura thought because the hum of conversation didn't drop when they were announced.
Lord Daventon, after scribbling his name on Lady Maria and Laura's dance cards, withdrew to join some friends. Laura greeted the matrons sitting with her mother and aunt and went over to speak to the other debutantes.
In truth, the best part of coming to London was meeting young women her age. She wasn't naive enough to believe everything they said but it was pleasant to giggle with them over a foppishly dressed tulip or a portly gentleman taking to the dance floor after liberally sampling the host's liquor.
The musicians grouped at one end were trying out their instruments, a signal for gentlemen to obtain partners. “Here they come,” Lady Priscilla murmured, trying to look disinterested and failing.
Laura groaned inwardly. Among the gentlemen converging on them, Mr. Bennett was at the forefront, with Lord Newington breathing over his shoulder.
The two had positioned themselves as the foremost among her suitors. She wouldn't have minded; she had not fixed her interest on anyone. But Mr. Bennett's strong perfume made her eyes twitch and Lord Newington's excruciatingly boring conversation made her go to sleep on her feet. It wasn't fair! A lady couldn't refuse a dance without insulting the gentleman. The only way out was to plead an excuse and sit out all the dances!
Laura turned and made a dash to an anteroom, discomfiting a lady with a ridiculously large coiffure. To her mortification, it was occupied by a couple who had slipped in for a private moment. Her nose started feeling itchy. Mr. Bennett was coming closer. A potted palm stood beside a pillar adorned with fat cherubs. It would have to do. Fortunately, her gown didn't have a bustle or fussy frills.
Laura practically flattened herself against the pillar, willing the dance to commence. Blast the musicians! Why couldn't they test their violins and harpsichords at home?
“Lady Laura?”
Laura stared as if Anthony was an apparition, and blinked.
“Are you taking up position with the cherub? I fear he will cause half a dozen matrons to reach for their smelling salts.”
Laura followed Anthony’s pointed glance, and blushed. The cherub's unclothed anatomy she had been pillowing her head upon could never be mentioned by a lady.
The Duke of Wimberley's eyes brimmed with a teasing light. Laura caught her breath. He was about to ask her for a dance! And she knew she would enjoy dancing with him. Instead, he suddenly looked left, as if recalling something, and after sketching a bow walked up to Lady Selena who was sitting with the matrons.
It took a moment for Laura to regain enough self-possession and clamp her mouth shut. She watched Anthony lead out Lady Selena, who looked as shaken as Laura felt.
The dance started. Laura would have to sit it out. Not that she minded very much. As she made her way to where her mother and aunt were seated, Mr. Bennett met her. She allowed him to write his name on her dance card. Lord Emsworth materialized and did the same. She knew Lord Hennicker would wait till later and try to get her for the supper dance.
“Shall we sit down?” Lord Emsworth asked, and led her to a sofa with a view of the dance floor. He gave a mournful sigh. At least that is what it sounded like, unless he was suffering from dyspepsia. A minute later he sighed again. “Is anything the matter, my lord?”
“Lady Laura, you are all that is good and kind. I ...”
“He is going to offer!” Laura thought, panicking. It would be embarrassing because she would refuse him – or anyone else. She didn't want to wed. Not yet.
“I find you are the only one with whom I can freely speak. I hold Lady Priscilla in high esteem. Will you please find out her favorite flowers?”
“We were at a garden party last week. I remember her saying she is partial to white chrysanthemums.”
“I can't thank you enough! Is there anything I can do?”
“Get me something to drink?” Laura said, dispatching him, and looked among the dancers to find Anthony. He was a good dancer. Graceful. He looked so distinguished. What was he saying to Lady Selena?
“The Wimberlies are high in the instep, my dear.”
It was Lady Goodall, sitting down beside her.
“My lady?” Laura asked. Surely, she had misheard. Why would Lady Goodall comment about the Wimberley family?
“The dukes in that family have always been high sticklers. Lord Wimberley is no different. He has finally decided to wed again. Lady Selena will suit, don’t you think? There hasn't been a whiff of scandal in her family.”
Lady Goodall placed her gloved fingers on Laura's arm. “You are young, dear, and unused to the ways of the world. I happened to see you outside the library with Lord Wimberley a week ago.”
“My brother and Lady Maria were with us,” Laura said rather hotly.
Lady Goodall sighed. “It is so easy for young women to get above themselves. When you waylaid Lord Wimberley before the dance, I knew it was my duty to warn you. Your mother ought to have. But she has been occupied with other matters all these years. Remember, a young woman is judged by how she behaves. You may model your behavior on that of my dear niece.”
It was a good thing Lady Goodall left immediately after delivering her homily. Not all her training in ladylike behavior or her natural reserve would have prevented Laura from telling the odious woman what she thought of her! More angry than upset, she glared after Lady Goodall.
Lord Emsworth returned with a glass of lemonade. The dance came to an end. Lady Maria made straight for Laura. “What happened? You look upset,” she asked, drawing her aside.
“Lady Goodall had the gall to lecture me on how I must behave. She felt it her duty because Mother hasn't cared to guide me,” Laura said through gritted teeth.
“I can imagine. I had to put up with her annoying ways when I made my come out. In the guise of being helpful, she would slander my mother. She’d say I must not expect to make a good match. It was my misfortune that my mother had been a Commoner and an American. I must not aim high; I had tainted blood running in my veins.”
“What did you do?”
“I did the only thing that would shut her up. I proved her wrong. I behaved impeccably and did not rise to her bait. You must do the same. Now take a deep breath. Who is partnering you for the next dance? Don't tell me! I can smell him coming!”
With a smile and an affectionate squeeze, Lady Maria moved aside, allowing Mr. Bennett to claim Laura's hand for the country dance. By the time the evening ended, Laura's head was throbbing with the effort of appearing to enjoy the ball.
It was late when they returned to Daventon House. As soon as Bessie removed the hairpins and helped her change into her night rail, Laura crept under the covers and shut her eyes. She was so tired she expected to immediately fall asleep.
Instead, she stared into the darkened room. Lady Goodall's words haunted her. Had she appeared to be waylaying Anthony? Did he also think she was trying to snag his attention? That would be truly mortifying.
She knew her heart raced when he engaged her in conversation. But that meant nothing. She was unused to company, more particularly to the company of handsome men who strode into a ballroom and cast every other man into the shade.
Why had Lord Wimberley asked Lady Selena to dance? He had also danced with Lady Amelia and with Lady Theodosia. She didn't know them well but had often overheard them, usually making cutting remarks. They were all wellborn ladies. But she couldn’t imagine any of them being kind and loving to a little, motherless girl. Ought she to warn him? But that would be the out and out of everything!
Her thoughts lingered on the moment when she had thought he would ask her to dance with him. He was Gareth’s friend but had never asked her.
A dance would have been nice.