Page 64 of Christmas Comes to Little Valentine

“Perhaps I’m not such a bad bargain after all,” he remarked, grinning at her. “Though I warn you, if you keep saying such things, it might go to my head.”

“I will keep your feet on the ground, don’t worry,” she assured him gravely, but then discovered she could not speak another word as they entered the ballroom.

They had opted not to stand with the family, greeting all the guests as they arrived, though they had been invited to do so. Meg had felt this made her look somewhat presumptuous and did not want the people who might one day be her neighbours to have this first impression of her. So, the butler announced them as they entered the room, finding their way through the throng.

The ballroom at Hatherley Hall was not the largest, Little Valentine being a small town, but the turnout would certainly thrill the dowager, for the place was packed. The servants made their way around with difficulty, delivering glasses of champagne and the sound of chatter and excited voices filled the room.

They greeted Nat’s mother, who looked ravishing in a gown of emerald-green silk, but she was enjoying a gentle flirtation with an older man whom Nat introduced as Lord Tisdall and was not much interested in their interrupting. Lord Tisdall, an elegant man with greying fair hair, seemed a kind fellow and greeted them warmly, but had no more interest in them that Lady Louisa did.

“I wonder if that was my new step-papa,” Nat whispered as he led Meg away.

“Really?”

He grinned at her and nodded. “The poor devil’s been infatuated for two decades that I know of. I hope he wins her. Lord knows she needs a sensible man to keep her from folly.”

“She’s lonely,” Meg observed, feeling a swell of empathy for his mother.

“Yes, but hopefully not for long. Ah, there’s Gee-Gee,” he said with relief, guiding Meg through the melee to his grandmother.

Della and Vinnie and Miss Percy were beside her and Della gave a cry of delight as she saw Meg. Della looked lovely in a gown of silver grey, embellished with hundreds of sparkling silver beads, but it was her smile that transformed her. She looked radiant and happy and every man in the place could not help but turn to admire her.

“Here,” she said, handing over a tiny little booklet. It opened like a fan, with the front and back page in mother-of-pearl, with tiny sheets of paper in between and a miniature pencil dangling from a silken string. “I forgot to give yours to you yesterday.”

“Oh, she doesn’t need that,” Nat said, taking it from Della before Meg could. “All her dances are mine.”

“Hold a moment,” Aubrey said, snatching the dance card from Nat. “That’s not right at all. For I’ve a dance with her.”

Nat tried to grab it back, but Aubrey was too quick.

“That had better not be a waltz,” Nat grumbled. “There’s only to be two and they’re both mine.”

“Keep your hair on. I claimed a country dance,” Aubrey said, handing the card back to Nat, who hurriedly pencilled his name in beside the two waltzes. He glanced at Meg before handing it back.

“That was presumptuous,” he said apologetically.

“No, it wasn’t,” Meg replied, laughing and looping the string about her wrist. “I don’t wish to waltz with anyone else. No offence, Aubrey.”

“None taken,” he replied with a grin.

“Well, it’s a crush and no mistake,” the dowager said with satisfaction, turning away from her conversation with Miss Percy to regard them all with a smug expression.

She looked as regal as ever, dressed in a gown of dark burgundy, heavily ornamented with Vandyke lace. Her hair gleamed white, and the Seymour rubies glittered in the light of hundreds of candles. They were impressive jewels, square cut and surrounded by diamonds. The lavish set included not only bracelets and a stunning necklace, but a tiara, which made the old lady look like a queen.

“It’s a grand success, Gee-Gee. Your old cronies in town won’t be able to top it, I’m sure of that,” Nat assured her.

Gee-Gee preened, inclining her head in gracious acknowledgement of this statement.

Hawkney appeared then, looking as remote and elegant as always. His dark auburn hair glinted red in the light, and Meg wondered if that was why the Seymour jewels were rubies, for she could imagine what they would look like on Della, with the rubies sparkling and setting fiery highlights off in her thick auburn tresses.

“A wonderful success, Grandmother. You are to be congratulated,” he said, taking her hand and bowing over it.

“Thank you, Hawkney. Coming from you, that is quite the compliment,” she said graciously, before gesturing to an older man Meg had not noticed, standing a little way off. He walked closer at her invitation.

“Good evening, your grace,” the fellow said, bowing to the dowager, before greeting the duke likewise.

“Nathaniel, Miss Bancroft, might I introduce Mr Bartlett, a friend of mine. Mr Bartlett, my grandson, Mr Nathaniel Ashcroft, and Miss Margaret Bancroft.”

“I am pleased to meet you,” the fellow said, shaking Nat’s hand, before turning to Meg. He was a tall man, well-built and with thick iron-grey hair that was turning white at the temples. She thought him to be approaching sixty, though he looked hale and hearty.