SEEING THAT HER MOTHER walked her way with Mr. Carleton beside her, Mildred slipped into the corridor of the Grenville home and went to hide in the music room.
"Your pardon, I did not realize the room was being used," she said to the debonair young man, who seemed equally surprised by the woman who had rushed into the room and swiftly closed the doors behind her. Not wanting to return and risk being found by her mother, she looked about the room, which contained a pianoforte, a harpsichord, two violins, and harp. "Are you musically inclined?"
He looked sheepish. "In truth, I don't play at all. I was seeking refuge—I mean to say, solitude. Do you play?"
"A little, but I must confess that I did not make my way in here in search of an instrument."
He lifted his brows and appeared a little relieved.
"I am not one given to much socializing," she explained further.
"Nor am I."
"You are a friend of the Grenvilles?"
"I am a friend of Mr. Harris, and staying with him, and he is a close friend of Mr. Grenville. I am George Winston."
She returned a curtsy to his bow. "Mildred Abbott. My family and the Grenvilles have known each other for a long time, and I all but grew up with their daughter Jane."
They regarded each other for a few seconds in silence before he asked, "Would you care to play?"
She made her way to the pianoforte and sat down. "You may regret your invitation, for my skills are limited."
He went to stand near. "I cannot cast stones, for I do not play at all. Anyone who has taken the time to learn a musical instrument deserves praise."
"That is very kind of you to say," she said as she selected Mozart's 'Fantasy and Sonata in C minor', "but I am quite tolerant of criticism. I know I did not practice as much as my instructor would have liked."
After she had completed the piece, with only a few minor errors, he clapped his hands, saying, "That was marvelous. You were being modest when you said you played only a little."
"I selected a rather easy composition."
"Are you quite difficult to compliment?"
She might have received this question as impertinent, but he spoke in such an easy, gentle manner, that she almost felt guilty for not accepting his praise.
"Your pardon. I did not mean to be rude."
"No offense taken, Miss Abbott. If I played as well as you, I should be deliriously happy with myself. Granted I am no expert at the pianoforte."
"I suppose I do appreciate that my family was able to afford a music instructor for me."
"I imagine you possessed other talents that you deem yourself 'a little' skilled at."
"Lest you think I am all modesty, I will boast that my French is quite good, but I am a horrible dancer. My dance instructor was even more cross with me than my music instructor."
He chuckled. "I would hazard that you are more modesty than not. I expect that if I were to witness you on the dance floor, you would not be nearly as bad as you think."
"Oh, I assure you I am."
He chuckled again, and his eyes seemed to sparkle when he smiled. "I suppose we shall have the chance to ascertain if you are accurate in your assessment or if I am correct that you underestimate yourself."
She shook her head. "I don't often dance."
It was a true statement. She did not often get asked to dance, though that had changed in recent months, thanks to Alastair. She tried not to think of her cousin every time Mr. Carleton or Mr. Porter approached her, but she would not have been in this position if not for Alastair.
“Do you not care for it?”
“I like the activity fine. I would participate more often if I were more skilled at it.”
“I suppose I am more selfish in that I consider myself middling in my dancing skills, but my enjoyment of the activity exceeds what guilt I may have from inflicting my inferior abilities upon an unsuspecting partner.”
It was Millie’s turn to chuckle. “Imagine if we should both take to the dance floor. What havoc we might cause!”
He perked and beamed at her. “What a delightful notion! We should attempt just such a thing!”
She shook her head. “I could not.”
“Ah, because you are a better person than I and would not impose upon others that which you believe would be a poor performance.”
In truth, Mildred had hoped to remain closeted in the music room till all the dancing had past, but that was rather wishful thinking. She could not disappear for such a length of time without raising brows and appearing rude.
“You think too well of me,” she replied to him. “It is because I would rather observe the elegance of those more graceful than I.”
“I gather there is little chance, then, that you would accept my request to dance?”
She studied him, wondering if he was sincere in his desire to dance with her. She found herself rather tempted, for he had such an affable manner and the most charming smile.
“Indeed,” she answered. “You seem a nice fellow, and I would not subject you to my poor dancing skills.”
“If you underestimate your dancing skills as much as you do your skills at the pianoforte, then I should think you a rather good dancer.”
“I would not take the chance, were I you. There are enough others here tonight who would assuredly be better than I.”
“Even if you are a poor dancer, I would rather have you for a partner because it is quite clear to me that you are a woman of intelligence and wit. And I would sooner have a partner with whom I can converse well than a woman with whom I can dance well.”
She shared the same sentiments, and would not mind being in Mr. Winston’s company. Certainly, she would prefer dancing with him than the likes of Carleton or Porter. “Very well, but you have been warned.”
“Splendid!”
“I shall make your middling abilities appear worse than they are.”
“That does not concern me in the least.” He glanced toward the door. “I suppose I ought to rejoin the others. I would not wish my host to think I had deserted him.”
She drew in a fortifying breath. She was not ready to brave the Carletons and Porters but supposed she had to follow suit with Winston. When he presented his hand to assist her to her feet, she accepted it. He held on to her hand longer than she would have expected.
“I suppose it would not do for us to be seen walking from this room together,” he said.
“Most assuredly.”
He released her hand, and she felt a little wistful at its loss. “Ladies first, then. I shall follow and find you for a reel—or would you prefer the quadrille?”
“The quadrille, please.”
“The quadrille it is.”
Mildred took her leave with steps light and happy. The evening no longer presented to be as dreary as she had thought.