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"You spoke to—to my father?" Nadia inquired, bristling a little. Had this all been some ill-advised manner of setup? "What did he say?"
"Of course I spoke to him! You don't think a man as smart as your father would thrust you helplessly into the clawing arms of these gossipy, backstabbing nobles, do you?" Lady Henrietta laughed; ironic, coming from the queen of all gossip herself. "He's quite worried about you, you know, Nadia. And your inheritance," Lady Henrietta reminded, and Nadia deflated immediately. This had all just been another plan to push Nadia helplessly under the thumb of a controlling lord, to 'keep the family line' going. Full of disgust, Lady Havenshire resisted Lady Henrietta's pull, but the old socialite dragged Nadia along, the young woman's muted, gold-trimmed gray gown dragging at her feet, nearly tripping young Nadia.
"Now, I've a few ideas for lovely men I think you'd get along with quite well, Nadia," Lady Henrietta began, leading poor Nadia through the front doors and into Lord Perrywise's foyer. A grand crowd had gathered, and Nadia at once felt utterly dizzied by its size, and by the winding sounds of conversation echoing through pitched hallways. Lord Perrywise's reception, painted over the color of sky and the pink of sunset, blinded her gaze; so accustomed to the calm and dark corridors of Havenshire Manor was she that the pastel glow of lanterns reflected from cherub statues and Greek marbled carvings covered in warm yellow and white nearly knocked the breath from her. She scarcely had time to adjust to the wild colors or the dozens of men watching her, for she still had yet to contend with the old woman dragging her through the assortment of gentlemen.
"You—you have men, you want, me, to talk to?" Nadia asked incredulously.
"Well, of course! That's what a lovely young heiress with an ailing father comes to these occasions for, is it not?" Lady Henrietta chortled obnoxiously. "Now, Lord Avery, and Lord Tybalt, they're wonderful men—a tad on the old side, but—"
"Lady Henrietta, perhaps, did you happen to think upon whether I chose to attend simply to make my father happy, and NOT to search for some suitor to sweep me away and wait for my father to die?!" Nadia protested breathlessly.
"Oh, come now! If you wish to make your father happy, you'd have your eyes peeled hawkishly in search of a man worthy of your attention! A good woman like yourself needs a man, you know," Lady Henrietta insisted as she tugged Nadia along through the crowds, the sound of spring-colored sounds from light strings plied by musicians doing little to soothe poor Nadia's pounding heart. "You know, he cares quite a lot about you, and he knows that you still have a lot to learn about life as a proper lady. That's why he's asked me to—"
"Lady Henrietta, I beg your pardon, please, but I doubt quite a great deal that my father asked you to matchmake for me—"
"He wanted me to look after you! So that's what I'm doing, looking after you," Lady Henrietta announced proudly. "Now, Lord Avery, he's a lovely man, a tad old, but certainly a worthy husband. He does have that... small issue, he's quite a bit... well, touchy. But that's a good thing, is it not? Oh! Or the Duke of Thrushcross, he's such a lovely old man, and he lost his poor, lovely wife, so young! He's—"
"Lady Henrietta, touchy?! You're trying to set me up with—" Nadia exclaimed in exasperation, her tolerance for the old bat reaching its limit. "I think we need to stop and discuss—"
"Oh, discussion! I love discussion. Have you any rumors to share? You visited Siam, didn't you? Such a ghastly place! But I met a a man there, Lord Chester—did you meet him?" Lady Henrietta continued unabated, and Nadia was already quite exhausted. "Lord Chester! That's a man we should meet together. Certainly, he'd love your father—"
"Love my father? But what about—"
"What about you? What about you, darling?" Lady Henrietta smiled obliviously. "Now, come, let's talk to-"
"Quiet, everyone! Quiet, for just moment!" The squirrelly, sniveling tone of Lord Perrywise gave to Nadia a much-needed reprieve from the endless stream of Lady Henrietta's banter. Nadia took a deep breath, barely able to recover from the dizzying experience; but the crowd fell silent and, perched at the top of the stairwell, the tiny, bald-headed Lord Perrywise appeared, wearing a waistcoat and jacket quite big on him, in the most gaudy combination of blinding colors Nadia could imagine - pink pastels, sky blues, and greens! His curious sense of fashion would no doubt inspire a laugh, had Nadia not been all too tired for that sort of exertion.
"I'm so-so-so very pleased, to see all of you gathered here," Lord Perrywise said, before laughing his horrifying laugh, like the melodic chirping of a bird. "I'm so wonderfully fortunate to have so many lovely friends here, willing to extend a hand of friendship, in such a friendly way," the odd man spoke in circles. Nadia had to shake the confusion from her head to make sure she'd heard his odd declarations accurately. "Now, lovely friends, dinner is prepared, BUT! I've a fun little game for us all to play. You'll find in the dining room, small plaques at each seat! You'll need to find yours - and once you find it, you'll be forced to sit among strangers! Now, friends, meet new friends!" Lord Perrywise declared; the doors to the dining room squealed on their hinges and Nadia swallowed a lump in her throat. Great. Saved from the endless irritating chatter of Lady Henrietta... only to be exposed to who knows what manner of endless, irritating chatter from strangers she'd be forced to sit next to.
"This is unexpected," Lady Henrietta frowned, before the brief moment of sadness passed and her face lit up once more. "Certainly you'll find a lovely man to speak to—think of your father! Now," Lady Henrietta declared, hustling with excitement towards the dining room - this was just the sort of ridiculous thing she'd enjoy, but for Nadia? She could only scoff at the thought of whatever ridiculous, old-fashioned ideas she'd be forced to endure as she yawned and pretend to need to excuse herself for the evening.
Nadia pushed her way through the crowd - so many tall people, with tall heels, long gowns; flowing jackets, laughing. She felt alone, strange, as if she'd stepped out of the real world outside of England and stepped in to a bizarre little bubble of madness - mad men, mad women, drinking wine and laughing at bad jokes together. Nadia slunk with doom in her footsteps along the long table, searching for her name; searching, searching, recognizing the names and titles of people her father had often spent time with. She recognized the names of old friends of hers; women who had once been headstrong, but who abandoned their ideas and independence when money and title and men came into their lives. Finally, at the very end of the table, she found it: LADY HAVENSHIRE. She sighed, glancing curiously at the name next to hers: LORD BECKHAM. Just perfect, she thought facetiously; a man to lecture her on the nature of marriage, or to try at her father's fortune, or both.
Nadia slipped into her chair, sinking down into the upholstery as violin music and guffaws echoed through the dining hall. She almost found a moment of uneasy peace, before a familiar voice broke into her thoughts again.
"Lord Beckham? Hmmm, isn't that the reclusive chap from Berrewithe?" Lady Henrietta asked, startling Nadia from her moment of self-reflection.
"I'm—Lady Henrietta! Shouldn't you be finding your own name and seat?!" Nadia exclaimed in a heated whisper.
"Your father asked me to look after you, and I can't have some silly foible by old Henry Perrywise foiling your father's goodwill," Lady Henrietta declared, examining the nameplate as if it held some secret clues. "Lord Beckham... a strange fellow. I hear little of him from these events. Perhaps he'd simply rather sit up on his hill," Lady Henrietta mused.
"Or," Nadia interjected, "perhaps he simply hasn't got the time or attention span for these silly dinner parties," she responded coolly.
"Come now, darling! Every single man has his eye out for lovely ladies, and—"
"Excuse me," came a darkly-entrancing voice from behind Lady Henrietta's birdish squawks. Nadia blinked, turning to see the source of the sound - oddly brooding, but spoken in a manner that demanded attention. Lady Henrietta froze and turned to see him - a man in a black coat, his expression dark, his face handsome but crossed with emotion. He struck Nadia silent - he was like nothing else at this ball, as out-of-place as she was, clothed in dark colors and vexed rather than pleased by the drunken follies of loud, gossiping nobles in bright-white and powder-colored coats and gowns. "I believe that spot's meant for me. No offense, m'lady," the brooding man rumbled, his voice like a soothing thunderstorm crooning quietly across the northern moors. Lady Henrietta stood in stunned silence for a moment, gathering her thoughts before a devilish grin crossed her wrinkled face.
"Certainly, m'lord, you've a wonderful little lady waiting to make conversation with you," Lady Henrietta brimmed, tossing a conspiratorial smile in Nadia's direction. Nadia cringed, the old woman admiring the new arrival, the entrancing storm of a man, as sat into the chair. Nadia got a better look at him now; tall, broad, with a deep face crested with the signs of both wisdom and strength; eyes as much a tempest as his voice, his expression so out of place somewhere like this. Nadia silently wished him to be different, so different the way she was; perhaps, she held out hope, this handsome and curious man saw the world differently, just as she did.
She could only hope. Men had little regard for women like Nadia, or their 'worldly' ideas, and she felt certain this man would prove no different. She looked away, awkwardly counting candles along the far wall. This man, Lord Beckham, didn't seem too interested in breaking the silence, either... which Nadia took to be rather interesting. Among these types it was, after all, the duty of the man to be the aggressor; such was what she came to expect.
Instead, he reclined in the chair, deep in thought on hi
mself; so deep, it seemed, that Nadia honestly grew... a little offended. Had she not the looks of one of these other debutantes or young heiresses? Didn't she deserve his attention? Instead, since the moment he'd invited himself to sit, he'd remained silent, and she began to long to hear his powerful voice again, if only to know she was deserving of at least an inkling of his attention.
Instead, he remained silent. The chatter around them grew louder; the squealing noise of the string orchestra growing bawdier, and the life around them growing more jovial. But still Lord Beckham and Lady Havenshire remained standoffish, her arms crossed atop her chest; Lord Beckham's eyes drawn inward, looking at his own soul more than anything around them. Nadia shifted in her chair, the wood creaking beneath her; finally, the silence between them deafening and her own sense of insecurity welling up, she spoke out.
"Well, I'm rather surprised at your acquiescence, I'll say that much," Nadia bristled. "Letting the woman be the first to speak is not quite the manner I've come to expect from men of wealth in this part of the world." Lord Beckham's expression turned slowly, and when his deep, contemplative eyes fell upon her she blinked, realizing just how confrontational she had sounded.
