As she glanced at the tables, she saw that her aunt and Lady Blanding wore no such masks. Theyweredelighted, that could not be mistaken.
Her attention was taken from her aunt by the stream of gentlemen approaching her. Some she had met at the Tremanes’, some were introduced by one of the masters. Lord Burke, who she’d danced with at the Tremanes’ and found very pleasant, took the dance before supper. He was to be a duke, which must go against him. However, he was not included in the list of names associated with the pact and that must be in his favor.
The ballroom had grown crowded and Cassandra could not imagine that many more people were to be crammed into it. The musicians had been tuning for some minutes and so it could not be long before the first dance would begin. She would hurry it, as the faster it arrived, the faster it departed. She would dance with Lord Hampton with all good grace and then begin to really enjoy her evening.
Lord Hampton came to collect her, and she shot Sybil a glance before her friend was led away, too.
The musicians took their cue and began to play. The ball was to begin with a quadrille. Cassandra had been vastly relieved when she’d examined her card that there was no mention of an endless minuet. She had only danced the Quadrille for the first time at the Tremanes’, but she’d practiced with a dancing master endless times in Surrey. Her dear father might hold the purse strings tight when it came to frippery, but he would view it an abomination to send his daughter to a ball uninformed of how to execute the various steps.
The lead couple, along with Lord Burke and his partner, the strikingly pretty Miss Daisy Danworth, began the dance. Cassandra stood next to Lord Hampton as a side couple, waiting for their turn.
It would be customary, while one waited, to strike up some sort of common conversation. It would be customary for the gentleman to initiate such conversation. Yet, Lord Hampton stood stone-faced and said not a word.
Cassandra was both gratified and irritated. It was well he did not wish to speak. On the other hand, was she deemed so uninteresting that he could not bother himself to make some comment on the size of the ballroom or the skill of the musicians?
Le Pantalon having been completed by the first two couples, Lord Hampton led her expertly. Whatever his dour temperament, he’d certainly had the benefit of a dancing master.
Cassandra was careful in her steps, and relieved to get through creditably. She found herself once again standing next to the silent man.
Her irritation grew as she watched the other couples take advantage of those moments for conversation. A gentleman said something amusing, a lady laughed and replied. Just as it should be.
Finally, to avoid looking a complete fool, and she would with so many eyes trained on Lord Hampton, she said, “The weather is particularly fine just now.”
Rather than reply to this innocuous salvo, the lord only nodded.
Irritation coursed through her. Now she was to appear an even bigger fool. She had initiated a conversation and been firmly rebuffed. It would be impossible to believe it had not been noted, and it would be discussed. If Cassandra had gained any slight understanding of London, it was that balls were minutely dissected in drawing rooms across the town. Every move, every overheard conversation, every look, was to be analyzed down to the last detail.
“You might at least attempt some sort of civility, my lord,” she said.
Lord Hampton appeared startled, though he quickly recovered. “I am sorry, miss?”
The way he said the words left no doubt to their meaning. His tone fairly dripped with condescension. To call her miss, rather than Miss Knightsbridge, as if she were an inconsequential person whose name was not worth the effort of recalling. She supposed the lofty lord felt he conferred some mighty favor on a country girl like herself.
She would not stand for it.
“Do not feign ignorance,” she said. “And do not suppose that every lady you encounter is desperate to know you.”
It was their turn to step into the square and so Lord Hampton did not reply. Hedidlook fairly furious, however.
While Cassandra had gone some way to shocking herself with her boldness, she found she was not overly sorry for it. She had wished to avoid the gentlemen of the pact, and she was certain she would never be opportuned by Lord Hampton again. That left just five more to insult into silence.
The thought of it nearly made her giggle, but she suppressed the urge.
*
The first dancehad come to a blessed end with no further words exchanged with Lord Hampton. After the urge to giggle had passed, Cassandra had begun to regret her daring. It was not that she thought he deserved any kinder treatment; it was only that she was well-aware that it would not be the done thing in London.
In Surrey, she had never felt constrained in her speech. If she thought something strongly, she would say it. She’d not soon forget the taking down of a certain Mr. Longmoore. He’d opportuned her in a shocking manner at a ball, grasping at her arm as she exited the lady’s retiring room and suggesting she, as he termed it, “Take him on.” She presumed this to be some sort of low marriage proposal, and quite ridiculous at that—Mr. Longmoore was a tradesman in the village who had the unfortunate reputation of drinking too much. The habit had been on unmistakable display on that particular evening.
After she’d pulled away from the drunken fool, he’d had the audacity to attempt to kiss her. She’d slapped him hard and informed him that she viewed him in no more favorable a light than a kitchen mouse, and if he were so ill-advised as to approach her again in such a manner, she’d chase him with a kitchen broom. The man was lucky she had not informed her father, who would have chosen a weapon a deal more deadly than a broom.
Mr. Longmoore had given her a wide berth after that.
Still, in London, where everybody and everything were so minutely scrutinized, where ladies were held to such strict standards, speaking one’s mind did not appear to find much approval. She only hoped Lord Hampton was embarrassed enough over the encounter that he’d not mention it to anybody.
Now, Lord Burke escorted her into the supper room and Cassandra anticipated an amusing repast. The lord had somehow the skill of telling of war as if it had been one long joke—she remembered vividly his tale told at the Tremanes’ of the horrors his cook would dream up, being saddled with so few ingredients that were edible, and the bright face that cook would put on them. One evening, the cook had grandly announcedvieux lapin dans une sauce pire.If Lord Burke’s French had been poor, he may never have realized he ate “old rabbit in a worse sauce.” Still, the lord supposed it was better than the evening he’d dined onracines que j’ai trouvé dans la forêt,which had loosely translated to “roots I found in the forest.”
“Miss Knightsbridge,” Lord Burke said, leading her into the dining room, “how do you enjoy the evening now that I’ve had the pleasure of leading you about the floor? I managed to avoid knocking you over, which I always consider an accomplishment.”
