The chimes of a nearby church clock were striking the quarter after eleven as they reached Grosvenor Square. May had often seen Lady Hindlesham from a distance at the opera, but she had never before come face to face with this famous beauty, though she knew she and her grandmother moved in the same circles. Now she gazed with interest at the woman greeting her guests at the head of the magnificent curved staircase. Others had arrived just before them, so she had ample time to study the sinuous line of Della Hindlesham’s shapely form as she turned gracefully from one guest to the next. May knew that the elder Hindlesham girl had recently given birth to her second child, but it was impossible to believe that the vision above them was already a grandmother – even allowing for the fact that she had been married straight out of the schoolroom, in a boy-and-girl romance. Now she dared to wear a Princess frock, with its clinging lines which so mercilessly exposed any fault of the figure: the silky grey panne velvet was embroidered with medallions of silver sequins and a myriad tiny pearls which outlined the low-cut décolletage in a style which contrived to be both subtle and yet suggestive. The diamonds of her tiara shimmered in the rich black mass of satin-smooth hair, and seemed to be mirrored in the sparkle of her eyes; and May felt herself suddenly childish in her debutante’s pink frills.
As they drew nearer May was aware of her father pulling his shoulders back even further, and surreptitiously smoothing a nonexistent wrinkle in the set of his jacket, but May noticed now the delicate tracery of lines below the lustrous dark eyes, and surmised that the fashionable, many-tiered dog collar of pearls and diamonds was as much a disguise as a decoration.
Lady Hindlesham greeted Melicent Andover as an old friend, then turned to her granddaughter.
‘So this is Mary’s daughter. Welcome, my dear.’
Her voice with its curiously husky timbre did sound welcoming, but May sensed a measure of reservation in the searching gaze which swept over her from head to foot: Della Hindlesham seemed almost displeased by her appearance, so that May raised a doubting hand to her hairstyle, but she could feel nothing amiss.
At the entrance to the ballroom May paused a moment, absorbing the brightly-lit scene below. Flashes of white, rose-pink and Romney blue betrayed the presence of the débutantes, intermingled with the deeper shades of the married women: orange and sapphire, gold and silver; and everywhere the black and white of the men, twirling their partners under the blazing chandeliers. And all around the edge of the dance floor the dove greys, soft mauves and dark burgundies of the watchful chaperons.
Then the lilting strains of a waltz gave way to the vigorous rhythm of a galop and Archie seized her hand. ‘Come on May, stop wasting good dancing time,’ and they were on the floor and whirling round and round. May felt her cheeks glow with the swiftness of their movements and she relaxed and enjoyed the brisk exercise. Archie was well familiar with her defects as a dancer and had no compunction about pulling her into step when the need arose. As they rounded the corner of the room at a spanking pace May saw their grandmother smile benignly in their direction.
‘You wouldn’t have rushed me off like that if Step-mamma had been here.’
‘But she isn’t,’ Archie replied. ‘You played a neat trick there, Maysie old girl.’
‘Don’t call me Maysie – besides,’ she blushed, ‘it wasn’t deliberate, she really was ill.’
‘Good.’
May took advantage of a twist in the dance to kick his shin for his heartlessness, and then spun rapidly out of range. ‘Anyway, shouldn’t you be dancing with the Dumer dollars?’
‘No, no, they’re for Bertie. Younger sons have to make do with the Frears frigates.’ Archie leered ostentatiously at May while neatly dodging a second kick.
‘You haven’t a hope! If you were the only man left in the the world…’
‘…you’d get mown down in the rush!’ Archie finished triumphantly, and they burst out laughing.
When the music brought them to the far end again May caught a glimpse of their hostess, and remembered the scene on the stairs.
‘Archie, has there ever been any quarrel between Step-mamma and Lady Hindlesham? She gave me such a strange look, she seemed almost, well… hostile.’
‘Yes, I noticed that myself. Obviously Aunt Ju disapproves of the fair Della, but that wouldn’t worry her. On the contrary, the disapproval of a woman like Lady Clarence is meat and drink to the Lady Hindleshams of this world. No, it was you she didn’t take to.’
‘But she doesn’t know me!’
‘You are naïve, May. She sees you as a rival, but with a good twenty years’ lead.’
‘Oh come on, Archie, don’t be silly. Emily is the beauty in our family.’
‘Maybe, but she wouldn’t see Emily as a challenge. Della Hindlesham is a beauty all right, but she attracts the men because of something else, and that’s what she recognised in you, May.’
May felt her face crimson. Archie grinned down at her.
‘Be your age, May, you must be the lousiest dancer in London, but when do you ever have to sit one out?’
‘Why, only last week,’ May retorted. ‘Jonny Yoxford said he’d rather not dance the quadrille.’
‘So what did you do instead?’
‘He offered to show me some particularly fine camellias, in their conservatory.’
‘And did Aunt Julia enjoy the camellias?’ Archie’s tone was guileless.
‘She said she did – how ever did you know she came with us?’
Archie threw back his head and roared with laughter.
‘I knew we could rely on her!’
May tapped her foot on the floor. ‘Stop making that ridiculous whooping noise and take me back to Grandmamma; the dance has finished, in case you haven’t noticed!’
As soon as they were back amongst the chaperons May sat down and stealthily eased her right foot partly out of its shoe; she had stubbed her toe in the attack on Archie and her dancing slippers were tight-fitting. Just as she was wriggling her cramped toes she had to jump up again: Lady Woodbridge had arrived, fussy as a small tugboat and towing behind her a solidly built, heavy faced young man whom she introduced as her eldest son, Lord Alcester. While explanations and commiserations were being exchanged over the absence of Lady Clarence he stared at May, who began to feel that she was being looked over by a man thinking of buying a new horse. Archie had, of course, melted into the crowd on the arrival of the Woodbridges and May now had to sustain a one-sided conversation in which her gambits were met with a wall of ‘Yes. No. Really?’ and a species of grunt. But eventually it appeared that Lord Alcester thought this particular horse might be the bargain he was looking for, since he finally muttered, ‘D’ye care to dance?’ and dragged her off into a waltz without waiting for a reply.
Even through her silk glove May was unpleasantly aware of the sweatiness of his palm, while it was soon apparent that his talent for dancing was even less than her own. Her heart sank. She reflected grimly that they might have had some chance in the lancers, but their progression round the floor to the tune of the lilting ‘Schönbrunn Valse’ rapidly deteriorated into an ungainly scramble. When one moved up, the other moved down; both pulled back simultaneously then cannoned into each other with a thud whereupon Lord Alcester seized control of the situation by clamping May to his chest. May, hot and uncomfortable, braced her left hand against his shoulder and gave a fierce push. She thrust herself free just as her partner tried to execute a complicated turn and the result was disastrous. She collided with the couple behind them and her right shoe flew from her foot and was lost in the surrounding mélée.
Lord Alcester’s face reddened with fury, May’s with embarrassment; she breathed a fervent prayer that the floor would open up and swallow her where she stood. At that moment the man she had crashed into reappeared, her shoe dangling nonchalantly from one hand. ‘Allow me,’ and in one polished movement he was kneeling at her feet, had taken hold of her ankle in a firm grasp and had slipped her shoe back onto her foot. In seconds he was upright again, there was a smiling bow, a murmured ‘My pleasure’, and he caught up his waiting partner and was away. May had only a fleeting impression of a bony face, a flashing smile and an unruly lock of hair falling down over his forehead. With a feeling of fervent gratitude to her unknown rescuer she followed his example, seized hold of the awkward young man in front of her and, deciding that her dancing was marginally better than his, began to steer him firmly round the floor.
He muttered in protest: ‘Hey, you’re pushing me around. I’m supposed to lead.’
May, her composure now partly restored, hissed back, while smiling sweetly, ‘Not after what happened last time.’
‘That wasn’t my fault, you pushed me!’
‘A lady shouldn’t need to push a gentleman.’
‘Well, how was I to know that ass Cussons was so close behind? It was all his fault.’
May disdained to argue further, and they waltzed clumsily on in acrimonious silence.
When a sulky Lord Alcester had propelled her back to her grandmother and made a rapid escape, May turned and saw Archie leaning against the wall, with a wide grin on his face.
‘Well, May, that was priceless – what a performance! I know Alcester’s not the most exciting of partners, but to go and throw yourself at Harry Cussons like that. Some women will stop at nothing!’
‘It wasn’t my mistake, he shouldn’t have grabbed me like he did. And I don’t know who it was I bumped into, but I was jolly grateful to get my shoe back – I didn’t notice you rushing to my rescue with it!’
‘What? Me? Try and compete with old Harry, the ladykiller himself – I’d have no chance. Why, he could put a lady’s stocking back on, let alone her shoe, in the time it’d take me just to kneel down!’
‘Archibald, that’s quite enough.’ Lady Andover spoke sharply to her grandson and rapped his hand with her fan. ‘Go and find Bertie, I wish to speak to him.’
Archie, unrepentant, bounded off, and Lady Andover turned to May.
‘Don’t worry, my dear, Archie only happened to notice because he was dancing nearby. I’m sure most people were quite unaware of your little contretemps.’
‘I do hope so, Grandmamma. I was so embarrassed, I just didn’t know what to do, and Lord Alcester just stood there, gobbling like an angry rooster.’
‘Yes, he takes after his father, they’re quite a trial to poor dear Mabel – but May, you really should not have slipped off your shoe like that. I tried to attract your attention, I could see you had not got it on again properly, but you left so suddenly.’
‘I won’t do it again,’ May promised fervently, thankful that her step-mother was safely at home.
Her hand was claimed next by the persistent Jonny Yoxford, and they moved off into a lively quadrille. Jonny kept up a lighthearted banter, apparently unaffected by May’s refusal of his hand and heart a mere two months ago, and she relaxed gratefully in his arms.
As she returned to her grandmother May noticed a tall figure leaning over her chair in close conversation; there was something familiar about the set of his shoulders and when he turned and smiled May’s heart jumped as she realised it was her recent deliverer. Jonny’s greetings were restrained, and he soon left to find his next partner.
‘My dear, Mr Cussons wishes to be presented to you.’ And amid May’s confusion the introductions were made.
‘Are you free later in the evening – perhaps we could dance before supper?’ His voice was low-pitched and attractive. May murmured an acquiescence.
‘Good, I shall be looking forward to our dance. Good evening Miss Winton, Lady Andover.’
He strode off, just as May’s next partner came for her; but half an hour later he was at her grandmother’s side again, and had swept her on to the floor before she had time to draw breath. She soon realised that besides being an expert dancer he was strong enough to pilot her without mishap; when she did lose the rhythm his tactic was simply to lift her off her feet and then deposit her again in time to the music – and this with a smile which, while acknowledging her slip, made it seem of little consequence. Indeed, May soon began to suspect that he found her occasional lapses amusing, and she laughed with him.
He seemed in no hurry to open the conversation, but once May had relaxed in his arms he grinned, and spoke teasingly.
‘So, Cinderella, you’ve come to the ball at last?’
May smiled back, replying candidly, ‘I’m afraid my foot would never have squeezed into her tiny slipper – you would have exposed me as one of the ugly sisters!’
He threw back his head and laughed aloud. ‘But you are Cinderella, because I’ve never met you at a ball before. However have you escaped tonight?’
‘I’m sure we must have been in the same company sometimes, perhaps at a squash, but my step-mother is very strict about whom I meet.’
As soon as the words were out May could have bitten off her tongue, and she felt the crimson rise from her throat. Her partner pulled down the corners of his mouth in an exaggerated gesture, but his eyes sparkled.
‘I am silenced – utterly!’ But within seconds he whispered, ‘You blush beautifully, Miss Winton,’ then louder, ‘So where is your step-mother tonight?’
In further confusion May murmured, ‘At home, she had a headache. She sent me with Grandmamma.’
‘…who is an old friend of mine, and so we met.’ The note of satisfaction in his final statement was unmistakable.
He was silent for a few bars, then, to the mingled relief and disappointment of May, he turned the conversation into more conventional channels. The dance seemed to flash by, and so did their supper interlude. However, May was not so bewitched by her new partner as to fail to do justice to the excellent refreshments, and she exclaimed with delight over the table.
‘I never tire of lobster mayonnaise – why, there are truffles in this partridge pie – do try the mousse, Mr Cussons, it’s delicious, and a little of the salad? – oh, quails, I never feel quite happy about them, they are such small birds.’
‘But I notice you have no objection to eating large birds, since you’ve selected the chicken galantine.’
May smiled. ‘One is never totally consistent, Mr Cussons.’
He looked down at her. ‘How true, Miss Winton, how very true.’
The tiny meringues, coffee eclairs and Neapolitan ices were all sampled and eaten with pleasure, then he whisked her off to the dance floor again. May, well aware that Lady Clarence would certainly have been annoyed at her spending so long with one partner, made a half-hearted protest, but the lively strains of the polka, one dance she genuinely enjoyed, seduced her into compliance, and they pranced happily round the room in an amicable silence, Mr Cussons only venturing one question.
‘Tell me, Miss Winton, do you ever suffer from indigestion?’
May widened her eyes in surprise. ‘No, why ever should I?’ Which made him laugh again.
Towards the end of the dance she saw a slight frown cross his face as he glanced towards the side of the room; she followed his gaze but could see only their hostess, Lady Hindlesham, in conversation with her grandmother.
This time, when the music ended he led her straight back to Lady Andover. Lady Hindlesham’s face was smooth and unruffled as they approached, but May still sensed a coolness in her polite query.
‘I trust you are enjoying yourself, Miss Winton?’
‘Yes, thank you Lady Hindlesham, very much. And supper was absolutely delicious.’
At this last remark Lady Hindlesham seemed to relax slightly, and her smile almost reached her eyes. Then she turned to the tall man at her side and laid her slender hand on his arm
‘Come along Harry, I need you. Good evening, Melicent my dear. Good evening Miss Winton.’
As they moved away Harry Cussons turned back for a moment and murmured to May, ‘Farewell, Cinderella.’
May could not resist it; she smiled up at him and whispered, ‘Goodbye, – Buttons!’
He blinked, then laughed aloud. A look of distaste crossed Lady Hindlesham’s face as she led him off.
The rest of the evening was an anti-climax, and May barely protested when Lord Clarence, a guilty expression on his face, almost seized her from the arms of her last partner, muttering, ‘Come along, my dear, it’s nearly twenty past three, whatever will your mother think? You know her views on young women who stay dancing until the servants are ready to sweep up!’
‘But Papa, hardly anyone else has left yet,’ but she allowed herself to be taken away.
Outside the night air was blessedly cool and clear, and May leant back gratefully on the cushions as they drove through the quiet streets. The steady clip-clop of the horses’ hooves was pleasantly soothing, and when they alighted outside the house she paused a moment to gaze at the fluttering leaves of the trees in the square, silhouetted against the dawn sky.
‘Come along, May, don’t dawdle.’
She followed her father up the steps and through the open front door.