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There was a light rap at the door, and then Susan entered. She was wearing a lovely green gown that set off her dark hair beautifully. The emeralds at her ears and around her neck completed the look. “Are you ready, Rebecca? It’s time to leave now if we’re going to arrive at Aunt Margaret’s home on time.”
Rebecca stood. “I am. Thank you, Mary, for your assistance.”
Mary curtsied. “My pleasure, miss. And tomorrow will be even more exciting!”
Susan and Rebecca headed down the corridor to the entrance hall. “You may wish to smile a bit tonight,” Susan remarked.
Rebecca’s hand went to her mouth. “Oh dear.”
“This is supper, Rebecca, not an execution,” Susan said. “Nor will we be attending an execution tomorrow. I give you my word.”
“I don’t know why I’m in such a state,” Rebecca said. “I have been looking forward to this, and Iamlooking forward to it, truly. You and Aylesham have been beyond generous, and you cannot imagine how blessed I feel. And grateful.”
“But . . .” Susan said.
But Rebecca had hoped that Ben would attend her ball, and the closer it got to the actual event, the less certain she became that he would come to Town to attend. And the attention she was receiving from her other suitors, particularly Hugh, but even from Viscount Whitley as of late, was flattering but also distressing. She must take their interest seriously, but how could she when her heart was still with Ben despite her best efforts to push her feelings to the side?
Oh, how she wished she understood precisely what he’d experienced that had left him in this sort of lingering pain! Understanding his past would help her know how to go forward—with him in her future or without.
If Ben didn’t attend, however, there was nothing she could do, was there?
“But nothing,” she said to Susan. She took her sister’s arm. “Let’s go have a lovely time with Aunt Margaret. And I’ll even go one step further: I shall wager that I’ll beat you at cards after dinner.”
“I’ll put a shilling on that bet,” Susan said. “Dare you do the same?”
“No,” Rebecca said.
They both laughed.
Soon they were in the carriage with Aylesham, who was wearing a dark-green waistcoat that matched Susan’s gown beautifully and was looking ever so grand himself. He was seated across from them. Aunt Margaret’s house wasn’t far, and soon they were descending from the carriage and being greeted by Foster, who was also looking grander than usual in what appeared to be a new suit.
“Welcome,” Foster announced. “Please follow me to the parlor, if you would be so kind.” He led the way—it was but a few steps—and opened the parlor door.
“After you,” Susan said to Rebecca.
Rebecca stepped inside and stumbled a bit on her foot. For there in front of her . . .
“Mama! Papa!” she cried before running to her mother’s arms and bursting into tears and then embracing her father. “You’re here! In London! I didn’t know you were planning to come to Town.”
“How could we miss the come-out of our youngest daughter?” Mama said, embracing her once again. “Lady Walmsley was kind enough to offer her home to us so we could surprise you, as she was similarly kind when we came to Town for Susan and Aylesham’s wedding.”
“For you are all family to me now, as dear as family ever could be,” Aunt Margaret said, beaming.
And Rebecca embraced the dear elderly lady, who did, indeed,trulyfeel like family now.
* * *
Aylesham House was large and elegant; lofty ceilings adorned with clouds and cherubs decorated the entry hall and large ballroom. Gilded columns stretched skyward and paintings by the Old Masters decorated walls and corridors. Sculptures sat in pride of place upon pedestals and in small alcoves throughout the public rooms. Almack’s might consider itself the social pinnacle Society had set for itself, but Aylesham House made Almack’s King Street premises pale in comparison.
The colors in the stained glass of the ballroom’s arched windows flickered and glowed in the light of the chandeliers and were echoed in the ladies’ elegant gowns and opulent jewels. Aylesham had hired a fine orchestra; they were now playing lively music Rebecca could hear in the background, and the murmur of conversation and the shuffling of feet added to the counterpoint of sound that was as present as the scents of perfume that swirled all about her.
The ball was already a crush, with an astonishing number of guests milling about the rooms, greeting one another after greeting their host and hostess and guest of honor. The mood was high. Rebecca had already heard murmurings among a few of the attendees that her come-out ball was certain to be one of the preeminent events of the Season, and that was including those that had been planned for the dignitaries arriving from the Continent.
The evening had only begun and had already exceeded Rebecca’s expectations. How could she have imagined such sights while growing up at Alderwood? She was witnessing utter magic. She could hardly believe it had all been arranged for her.
And then there were the additional introductions that accompanied such a crush of people, especially, it seemed, young gentlemen who all seemed eager to dance with her this evening. Oddly, she hadn’t actually considered that as this washerball, gentlemen would wish to dance specifically withher. Her dance card was nearly filled. She had danced the first set with Papa and the next with Aylesham, who had danced the first set with Susan, of course. And then Rebecca had danced with Viscount Whitley.
“You are in fine form, Miss Jennings,” Lord Whitley said to her as they were brought together and apart during their country dance. “I’m so pleased you are without the need of your cane.”
