“Mistaken?” asked Richard.
“Yes,” she replied. “My father has chosen the gentlemen personally, and he approves of each of them. Therefore, any gentleman here tonight may ask any lady without fear of repercussion.”
“Though he may be afraid of rejection,” said Richard.
“True,” she said. “But you need have no such fear.”
“Because your sister already knows me?” he asked.
“Yes, but also because I have seen how you act with the other ladies you have danced with. You are quite the gentleman, apparently both charming and clever.”
Richard had been hesitating, because he was not certain he could talk with this most intimidating lady with any semblance of normality, but he could not fail to live up to such a direct hint as this.
“Will you honor me with your next dance, Lady Northdale?” he asked.
She smiled, and Richard’s breathing stopped. She had been beautiful before, but with a genuine smile of joy on her face, an expression directed specifically at him, she was utterly incandescent. “I would be happy to,” she said.
Chapter 14
Mary was not enjoying the ball, but that was no surprise. She had not expected to enjoy it. She didn’t like crowds. She didn’t like meeting new people. And she especially didn’t like dancing.
She knew it was odd for a young lady to not like dancing. Every female she knew who was under the age of thirty loved to dance, and Mary wouldn’t have been surprised to find that older ladies enjoyed it just as much though they hid it simply because of their age.
Mary, on the other hand, would prefer to sit still and read or at most sit and play piano. Physical exertion was not something she enjoyed, nor was she particularly graceful when she did move. Despite hours of practice over the last few months, Mary was only marginally more graceful now than she had been at Longbourn.
Knowing how important it was for her family to make a good impression in London, Mary did her best impression of Jane’s placid smile and accepted every request to dance. Surprisingly, doing so filled up her card fairly quickly, and there were even those whose request had to be declined because her card was full.
For a few wild but brief moments, Mary believed that perhaps dressing in finer clothing and allowing her hair to bestyled properly had somehow transformed her into a beauty, but that flight of fancy did not last long.
None of the gentlemen she danced with complimented her looks in any way, though she could hear her sisters receive such praise from multiple sources. It soon became clear that those who requested her dances were dancing with her fortune and status, not with her as a person.
As the evening passed, it became more and more difficult to maintain her smile or even a simple blank expression. Somehow, being wanted only for her fortune and status was far worse than not being wanted at all.
Tears she could not allow to form and rage she could not express even to herself built up within her. By the time the supper dance was about to begin, she had worked herself into a severe headache.
As the music began for the dance, she looked around for Mr. Hounsworth, who had written his name on her card for this dance, but he was nowhere to be seen. The dancers were lining up, and he still had not arrived to claim his dance.
When the music began, and the dancers began to move, Mary finally saw him. He was on the dance floor, dancing with Kitty.
Hot shame flowed through her. She realized that she truly was nothing, that despite all her hard work and all she had done to change how she presented herself, she was still the sister who was easily ignored, and the realization hit her like a blacksmith’s hammer.
She turned toward the door, planning to escape from the ballroom and take refuge in her bedroom. Her only thought was gratitude that she was at home where she could do such a thing rather than at someone else’s home where she would be trapped.
She was halfway to the door when it dawned on her that if she disappeared for the rest of the evening, her family would be worried. So, she stopped and looked around for her mother.
As she was looking, Lord Appleby, the eldest son of the Duke of Sansbury, approached her. “Lady Mary, are you well?”
She was startled into looking at him directly, and she could see concern written clearly on his face. She was so surprised to see anyone other than her family concerned for her welfare that she could not formulate a reply. She simply stared at him.
“It is only that you seem to be rather pale and upset,” he said by way of explanation. “I thought perhaps you might be feeling unwell.”
As she continued to think about how to reply, she vaguely remembered her dance with him, which was the second one of the night. His first dance had been with Jane, because they were the highest-ranking gentleman and lady other than her parents, but she had been his second dance of the evening.
Of her various partners, his conversation had been the least boring. At least he had spoken of books and plays, whereas the other gentlemen had mostly spoken of horses, dogs, hunting, and gambling.
“I was looking for my mother,” she said, not truly answering his question.
“I believe I saw her on the other side of the dancers just before this dance began,” he said. “Would you mind very much if I escorted you there?”
