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“It is, yes.” He leaned forward and kissed her on the lips.
“Do you… see this as a ruse?” she asked, as their lips parted.
He paused for a moment, then shook his head.
“I… I hadn’t expected to feel like this. When the agreement was made it seemed… well, useful to us both. But the more time I’ve spent with you, the more time I’ve wanted to know you better. You’re a charming creature, an utter delight, and I… I’m so glad we’re to spend the evening together.”
“As am I,” she said, smiling.
As they approached the pleasure gardens, they joined a queue of other carriages, and Eloise imagined the other women, nervous at their debut, waiting to disembark. As she watched, she saw several women with whom she was acquainted, each on the arm of a well-dressed gentleman.
“It’s going to be quite an evening, I believe,” Jackson muttered, as their carriage drew up at the gates.
A footman hurried to assist them, and Eloise stepped down, glancing around her as the sound of music could be heard in the air, along with the sound of men and women laughing and talking with one another.
“Look at all these people,” Eloise said, taking Jackson’s arm as they walked together through the gates.
A large pavilion stood before them, its doors opening onto a terrace with steps leading down to lawns and formal flower beds. The weather had been kind to them, so the dancing would take place on the lawns, where refreshment tables had been set up, and couples were milling back and forth, helping themselves to punch and dainty cakes. Flaming torches lined the way, and Eloise and Jackson were now ushered towards the place where the procession would begin, joined by other couples intending to make their debut of commitment that evening.
Until now, Eloise and Jackson’s courtship had been a speculation, but now it was to become official. They would join the procession with the other couples, who now stood in line, holding hands and gazing lovingly into one another’s eyes. This was the swan song of those first weeks of romance, and at the end of the ball, talk would turn to marriage and the future. Eloise and Jackson now took their places, holding hands and waiting for the Master of Ceremonies to announce the beginning of the procession.
“There’ll be no doubting us now,” Jackson whispered, and Eloise smiled at him.
“It needn’t be a ruse though, need it? Let them think what they want. We know the truth,” she whispered back, and Jackson smiled.
“We do,” he hummed, as a trumpet fanfare sounded, and a liveried man stepped forward to address them.
“My Lords, Ladies, and Gentlemen, you know the importance of this evening and the way it is to be conducted. The procession represents a solemn moment where a couple passes from speculation to certainty. What was once a frivolity has now become a highlight of the Social Season and is eagerly observed by all. In a moment, the musicians will play for us, and I’ll lead you along the torch-lit path in front of the terrace, where the other guests have gathered,” he boomed, pointing across the gardens.
Eloise could see a crowd on the terrace, eager onlookers awaiting confirmation or denial of their speculations. She felt suddenly very nervous and wondered what her sister would say if she could see her now. It was a question she so often asked herself – in every circumstance. But another thought now entered her mind. She had vowed not to marry until Alice was found but denying herself happiness had brought with it much to regret. She had missed out on so many opportunities, always assuming her sister wanted to return to her.
But perhaps she doesn’t.
Eloise had spent so long imagining her sister intended to return that the possibility of her not wanting to do so seemed absurd. But now the thought was planted, and Eloise wondered if she had been a fool to cling to a past that would never return.
“Are you ready?” Jackson whispered, as the music began to play, and the first of the couples followed the Master of Ceremonies in the solemn procession.
Eloise nodded, drawing herself up, and slipping her arm into Jackson’s. They made their way across the gravel, following a woman dressed in a pink ball gown, on the arm of a handsome man in the red uniform of the militia.
“Oh, Percival, I’m so excited. Look, there’s my mother and my sister. Mama, look, it’s me,” the woman called out, waving to a beaming woman on the terrace who waved back.
Eloise felt sorry that no such onlooker waited for her. Her father was not even present, her mother was dead, and her sister was as good as so, even as it pained her to admit it.
“Oh, darling, you look wonderful. I’m so happy for you,” the woman’s mother squealed.
They were processing beneath the terrace now, and Eloise looked up to see the onlookers gawping down at them and jostling for the best view. As she looked on, she realized, to her horror, that amongst the crowd was Lord Crawford, whose eye she now caught, and next to him, looking at her with murderous expressions on their faces, were his two sisters.
“He’s there… Lord Crawford,” Eloise quavered.
“Keep your head held high. He needs to realize he can’t always have what he thinks is his by rights.” Jackson gave her a brief encouraging look.
But Eloise could not help but feel an unpleasant sense of ill fortune pervading her. Why had Lord Crawford come to the Midsummer Ball that evening? Was it to see her, or was it a mere coincidence? Her confidence was dented, and now she felt sick to her stomach at the prospect of encountering him or his sisters during the dance.
“But why did he come? What does he want?” she whispered to Jackson, as they came to the end of the procession. It was marked by a tall arbor covered in roses, beyond which stood large bowls of punch on a refreshment table.
“He’s probably trying to intimidate us. He was always like that,” Jackson guessed.
Eloise did not fully understand the history between Jackson and Lord Crawford. She knew they had been at school together and that some disagreement had occurred between them, but as for the details, she knew nothing.
