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Nancy smiled and shook her head. ‘Eleanora has Sir Jack to partner her, and I dare say Tamara has persuaded William to attend the ball. Being unattached has its advantages, Molly. I can sit back and enjoy the spectacle.’
‘You’d better put your woollen mantle on, miss. It’s getting cold at night. Winter will be here soon.’
Nancy was about to agree when Eleanora burst into the room. Her cheeks were flushed and she looked stunning in a cerise silk gown lavishly trimmed with black lace and bugle beads. Nancy could only imagine Hester’s face if she saw a young lady dressed in such a way. She would not approve.
‘Did you want something, Eleanora?’
‘Jack is here, Nancy. We have a spare seat in the barouche, otherwise you will have to walk and risk soaking the hem on your gown on the grass.’
‘What about Tamara? Doesn’t she want to go with you?’
Eleanora laughed. ‘Don’t worry about that little minx. Her beau picked her up in a hackney carriage. Her papa will be livid if he finds out.’
Molly took a blue velvet mantle from the clothes press, but Eleanora shook her head. ‘You won’t need that, Nancy. A shawl will do. That’s all I’m taking. Hurry up because Jack is waiting.’
Molly exchanged meaningful glances with Molly. When Eleanora had her mind set on something it was easier not to argue. She slipped a shawl around her shoulders and followed Eleanora out of the room.
Sir Jack Marshall was waiting in the barouche and he climbed down to hold the door open for them. He kissed Eleanora on the cheek, despite the fact that a small crowd of students was preparing to leave for the walk to the dance studio.
‘Jack, this is Nancy. I told you about her.’
He smiled and nodded. ‘How do you do, Miss Sunday?’
‘How do you do, sir?’ Nancy bobbed a curtsey.
He handed Eleanora into the carriage and when she was seated he proffered his hand to Nancy. She climbed in and was instantly aware that she and Eleanora were not the only occupants of the barouche. It was dark in the interior and she could not make out his face, but the gentleman sitting in the far corner was stylishly dressed and there was something familiar about him.
Jack closed the door and sat down. ‘I took the liberty of inviting a friend to accompany us, Nancy. I hope you don’t object, but I believe you are already acquainted.’
Chapter Five
‘It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance again, Miss Sunday.’
In a shaft of flickering gaslight from a street lamp, Nancy recognised him. ‘Mr North! I don’t understand …’
He leaned forward and took her hand, raising it to his lips. ‘Gervase North, at your service, Miss Sunday.’
Nancy snatched her hand away. ‘No, really. I didn’t agree to going anywhere with this person.’
‘Too late,’ Eleanora said casually. ‘We’re on the move so you can’t get out. Don’t be a bore, Nancy. Gervase is harmless, so there’s no need to make a fuss. We’re going to have a ridiculously silly evening at old Poppleton’s. Honestly, my dear, we will need two strong men to help us escape when the evening becomes too dull for words.’
Nancy sat back in her seat. She could hardly fling herself out of a moving carriage, but she stared doggedly out of the window. It was an unfortunate coincidence that Jack’s friend happened to be the man who had upset everyone at Rockwood Castle with his outrageous slur against the late Lady Carey. However, having to face an evening with him was quite another matter. There might be nothing she could do at the moment, but she would make her feelings very clear when they arrived at the dance studio.
Seemingly oblivious to Nancy’s distress, Eleanora chattered on, receiving monosyllabic responses from Sir Jack. However, Gervase was more forthcoming and the pair of them talked incessantly during the carriage ride to Poppleton’s studio. When they arrived they were greeted by Mr Poppleton himself. He looked like a pantomime version of an Eastern potentate in a weird creation consisting of a silk turban and a flowing satin robe decorated with glass beads. He welcomed them with a theatrical flourish and invited them into his studio as if it were the smartest venue in London.
Nancy glanced anxiously at Gervase, willing him to keep his sarcastic comments to himself. The memory of the embarrassing scene in the drawing room at Rockwood Castle was still fresh in her mind. She hated to admit it but, for all that, she found Gervase dangerously attractive. Even worse, she could tell by the way he treated her that he was well aware of his fatal charm where women were concerned. He tucked her hand in the crook of his arm.
‘Shall we go in and see what the strange fellow has to offer?’
Nancy would have liked to refuse, but she could hardly do so without causing a scene. Eleanora and Sir Jack had gone on ahead and Miss Sharp was standing in the doorway, giving them suspicious glances.
‘Yes, we might as well,’ Nancy said reluctantly. ‘But this is just a school. Don’t expect too much.’
He patted her hand as it lay on the sleeve of his expensive and extremely well-cut tail coat. ‘My dear Nancy, nothing could be dull when I am in such charming company.’ It was said with a smile that would have warmed the hardest heart, and Nancy felt the blood rushing to her cheeks in a rosy blush.
They entered the studio to find a small group of musicians playing a lively polka. The students who had arrived early were the girls without partners. They whirled around the floor with more enthusiasm than grace.
‘There are refreshments in the anteroom,’ Mr Poppleton said grandly. ‘Fruit punch, cider and ale for the gentlemen. Never let it be said that Hartley Poppleton does not know how to entertain the gentry. Enjoy your evening, ladies and gentlemen.’
