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‘Why, thank you, Mr Conway,’ I said, curtsying and extending my arm in the most ladylike manner I had ever managed to fake. ‘A dance is just what I need right now.’ Yes, and please in the middle of the dance floor, far away from His Lordship and company! ‘I would be delighted.’
Over my shoulder I smiled at Lord Dalgliesh. ‘You will excuse us, Your Lordship.’
‘Certainly, Miss Linton.’ He bowed, just a few inches. Was it a coincidence that, at the gesture, the wall of soldiers opened up to let us pass? ‘Until we meet again.’
I shuddered as we passed between the uniformed men and they closed ranks behind us.
‘Are you cold, Miss Linton?’ Edmund enquired politely.
‘No.’ I shook my head. ‘Let’s dance.’
*~*~**~*~*
It was terrible.
He stepped on my feet a lot, but nevertheless, I tried not to step on his. I thought it was the least I could do, considering he may have just saved my life. I still wasn’t too sure about that, to be honest. Lord Dalgliesh hadn’t really said anything threatening. He had just invited me on a little walk, after all.
But now and then I caught his eye across the ballroom, and had the feeling that it would have been a pretty long walk to an unpleasant destination. I made sure that I stayed among plenty of people for the rest of the ball. Unfortunately, that meant having to dance almost every dance, with any partner who happened to be available. Sometimes, safety came at too high a price.
All that sustained me through the long hours of the ball was the sight of Ella and Edmund. Whether they were dancing or not, and no matter how far apart they were, their eyes never left each other. I had to admit I was beginning to warm to this Edmund chap. Maybe it wasn’t so terrible that my little sister was in love, and she wouldn’t end up miserable and oppressed like so many other women who gave themselves over to a man.
And if she would, Edmund would rue the day he was born!
As the evening dragged on, the music became slower, the crowd less excited, and finally, it was all over. Lady Metcalf stood at the door to say goodbye to all the guests. We were some of the last ones to leave. Yet there was one other behind us, surrounded by an entourage of figures in uniform.
Lord Dalgliesh nodded to me and smiled.
I could almost hear a voice whispering into my ear: This is not over.
*~*~**~*~*
I had assumed that, now he had dropped my sister like a hot brick, Sir Philip would try to get rid of us as soon as possible. I was mistaken. He took us home in his coach as planned and, the entire drive, did nothing but chinwag about the fabulous Lady Katherine he had met at the ball. However, other than you might imagine, this was not awkward in the least. Quite the contrary.
Why, you might ask?
I might have been angry with him for casting aside my sister like a used glove - but seeing as Ella was quite delighted to be thrown aside like a used glove, and looking happier with every word he spoke, taking pains to agree most energetically with his praise of Lady Katherine, it was rather hard. Especially since my aunt was shooting gazes of fiery anger at the poor Sir Philip, not one of which he actually noticed.
‘…and her hair, as golden as the sunlight, don't you think?’ he sighed, his eyes dreamy.
‘Most definitely,’ Ella concurred, nodding energetically. ‘Golden sunlight on a summer morning. Don’t you think so, Mr Conway?’
‘W-what? Oh yes,’ stammered Edmund, who had been too busy staring at Ella to hear one word in ten.
‘I shall send her a bouquet of flowers directly in the morning. Or maybe two, or three! What do you think, Miss Ella?’
‘Make it four.’
‘What an excellent idea! My thanks.’ He bent to her and gently kissed her hands. ‘Only a good friend can give such good advice.’
At the word 'friend', my aunt nearly burst into flames from indignation.
It wasn’t long till we reached home. Sir Philip’s departure then happened a lot more speedily than usual. He needed to leave to buy flowers for Lady Katherine, and my aunt needed to retreat to her room to simmer with rage at the inconstancy of young aristocrats.
‘Farewell, you all,’ he called to us, sticking his head out of the coach wind
ow and lifting his hat in parting a last time, an excited smile on his face. ‘I shall hope to see you all at my next ball. You are all invited.’ And, turning to the coachman: ‘Onward! Find me the nearest florist, man!’
‘Yes, Sir!’
