Stay strong,he warned himself, feeling somewhat ridiculous.Just remain steadfast, and you’ll be remembered as a fun and gracious host. Or tolerable, at least.
He found himself glancing over at Miss Thornhill more often than he should, trying to gage how much she was enjoying her dance with Lord Vincent Griffin, who’d been described as ‘the most handsome man in the room’ in too many gossip columns to count.
She didn’t seem pleased, he could say, especially not when Lord Vincent staggered when he should have skipped and trod heavily on her hem. There was no sound of tearing, which was something, at least.
The dance ended, the music ending with a triumphant flourish, and a bubble of laughter and applause broke out, with partners smiling to each other, out of breath and satisfied.
Lucy beamed up at Arthur, stepping forward to take his arm.
“I daresay you’ll sit out the rest of the night, now,” she said lightly, but Arthur found himself drawing away.
“Actually,” he said, “I think we should go and see Miss Thornhill. She looks like she needs rescuing.”
He nodded in Miss Thornhill’s direction, and Lucy followed his gaze. She frowned.
Lord Vincent had Miss Thornhill’s arm drawn firmly through his and was towing her away from the dance floor towards the refreshment table. He was bending to talk to her, looking in her face, while she seemed to be turned away.
“Thereyou are, Felicity!” Lucy said loudly, darting forward to seize her friend’s disengaged arm. “How was your dance?”
Lord Vincent looked thoroughly displeased to be interrupted and shot a disdainful glance at Arthur. He was obliged to stop, however, and let Miss Thornhill pull her arm away.
“I’m a little tired,” Miss Thornhill said, looking relieved. “Lord Vincent wants to dance again.”
“You aren’t engaged for the next set,” Lord Vincent said, aggrieved. “I can’t see why…”
“Oh, it wouldn’t be proper,” Arthur spoke up, surprising himself and everybody else. “You know that a lady can’t dance more than twice with a single gentleman, and not twice in a row. Besides, Miss Thornhill, Lucy and I were hoping to engage you in a game of whist.”
“Whist?” Lord Vincent spoke up, looking interested.
“Oh, Lord Vincent, we’d love to invite you to join,” Miss Thornhill said hastily, “but my cousin Daniel will want to join us. He’ll never forgive me if I leave him out of a game of whist. I am so sorry.”
Lord Vincent looked thunderous, but there was really nothing to be done.
Arm in arm, Lucy and Miss Thornhill hurried across the crowded floor, with Arthur trailing behind.
“Thank you, both of you,” Miss Thornhill said in a low voice, once they were out of the ballroom and in the relatively spacious cool of the hallway outside. “I liked him at first – Lord Vincent, that is – but he spoke so cruelly of so many people. You wouldn’t believe what he said about poor Miss Elliot, and I won’t repeat the gossip he told me about Lady Kaye. I started to feel quite grubby just from being around him.”
“Yes, Lord Vincent has that effect on people,” Lucy responded. “They like him very well to start with, then they realise how unkind he is. No matter, though. I’m sure he’ll find some weaselly little heiress who’ll suit him perfectly. Now, let’s find Daniel, Felicity, then sit down to our game of whist. Arthur, would you find us a table?”
And just like that, the ladies had disappeared, and Arthur was left with his orders. Still, it was a much better situation than the crowded ballroom. Much,muchbetter.
The card-tables had been set up in one of the writing-rooms. It was seldom used, and the servants had spent hours on getting the musty smell and dust out of the room. There were a number of tables, only half occupied. Arthur sat down at a small, green-topped table, and began to shuffle the cards.
He only had a few moments to wait before the others arrived. He did not know Lord Daniel Thornhill, but the man was entirely pleasant and chatted easily with Arthur.
He wasn’t entirely sure how it happened, but Arthur found himself partnered with Miss Thornhill. Not that it made a great deal of difference. It wasn’t as though they could discuss their cards, or the games, or indeed much else.
The first rounds went smoothly, with Lord Thornhill carrying the conversation with ease. He seemed to know exactly what subject would interest each person and spoke accordingly. As was common on these occasions, nothing of note was discussed, but nothing too dull.
Despite it all, he found himself relaxing. The card room was quieter than the ballroom and hallways, with a buzz of low-level conversation and genteel laughter. He could hear his companions easily, and it was pleasant to sit in silence while contemplating one’s cards. Plus, there were fewer candles here, and the glare didn’t seem to bother his eyes so much.
“You seem more comfortable here, Arthur,” Lucy remarked quietly, sometime into the second round.
“I am,” he admitted. “All the lights give me a headache.”
The other two nodded in agreement. Of course, they had no idea that when Arthur said ‘headache’, he referred to the blinding pain, flashing lights, and bubbling nausea of a megrim. Best not to mention it, really. After all, did he want the faux concern and sympathetic murmurings of his guests? No, he did not.
“I for one prefer a little quiet in the midst of a noisy ball,” Miss Thornhill remarked, collecting a trick. As far as Arthur could tell, he and his partner were winning. “Not that I don’t enjoy laughter and dancing, naturally. But it can get overwhelming after a while, I think.”
