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When they reached the ballroom, Ronnie thought the glittering chandeliers, gilded mirrors, and satin draperies were about as elegant as any of the rooms in London, probably more so than Mama would admit. Endicott and William escorted the two mothers to seats just off the dance floor.
Even the press of attendees surpassed some of the large London balls Ronnie had attended. Dressed in every vivid shade of summer's garden bounty, ladies sported sparkling diadems and tall plumes to adorn their coiffures. She was almost tempted to look for a seat in the last row and simply observe the evening's crush. But she knew Mama would expect to see her on the dance floor and would seek her out if she did not participate.
A lady and gentleman Ronnie recognised from the Royal Arms talked to Lady Montgomery, and another gentleman joined them, making it easy for Ronnie to slip away into the crowd, taking care not to have her delicate silk slippers trodden upon. She found a spot near the breeze from an open window. As the crowd moved, she got glimpses of William and Cici, side by side not far from the entrance, no doubt watching for the party from the royal residence. Ronnie assumed no one expected Princess Charlotte's party to arrive until after their dinner at Gloucester Lodge, maybe not for another hour or so. No one danced as yet, properly awaiting her Highness to begin the figures.
Jasper Endicott, in his gold-trimmed Hussar uniform, joined Ronnie.
"I assume we wait for the royal party."
"I believe that is what is expected."
They merged with the couples promenading around the room. Ronnie soon gave up counting how many times the Lieutenant was stopped to enquire about the war.
While he spoke, Ronnie studied the gowns, trying to recall the latest dictates of the fashion pages. Was Celestial Blue more favoured than other shades? How about Pomona Green? Like her own gown, many others had a colourful underskirt with an overlay of gauzy white. Also similar was the prominence of short puffy sleeves adorned with quilling patterns or edged with lace. Almost all of the ladies' frocks were laudable, but among the gentlemen, no one — even in a scarlet coat — compared with the Lieutenant's dark tunic with row after row of cording in shining guinea gold. Ronnie guessed that the ladies admired his appearance far more than they paid attention to his words. Standing beside him, as the centre of attention, struck Ronnie as a new and heady experience.
******
Drew made himself as inconspicuous as possible just outside the pantry door, careful to stay out of the way of the footmen refilling the punch bowl. He could see only a slice of the ballroom where the dancing had begun after the arrival of her Highness and the stirring notes of God Save the King. No matter how limited his view, he spotted Lieutenant Endicott and Miss Montgomery. The unique uniform served as a magnet to everyone, he assumed.
Earlier, as they briefly conversed at the Royal Arms, he had been tempted to ask how the fellow had made his way into a cavalry regiment, but Drew held back, having read how the army had struggled to fill the ranks after so many had been sent home long before Napoleon had returned to fight.
Even at this distance, he winced at the expression on Miss Montgomery's face, apparently a smile as they joined hands and circled out of his view for the moment. He too turned and went back into the pantry. He feared that the next steps in Miss Montgomery's life would be entirely devoted to that lieutenant.
How fortunate, Drew thought, that some of his best friends from his regiment had accepted his invitation to spend the end of their leave at the Royal Arms. They would divert him from his increasing and unwelcome obsession with Miss Veronica. Maybe even tamp it out.
******
When the first sets were finished, the ballroom buzzed with the news that Princess Charlotte chose not to dance again. Hardly surprising, Ronnie said to Lieutenant Endicott.
"The word was, I heard, she was suffering a return of the complaint, the pain in her knee that brought her here for the cure last year."
Almost immediately, one of the royal party came up to them and led Endicott aside, speaking in a voice so low that Ronnie could not hear what he said.
When the Lieutenant turned back to her, he wore a wide grin, and he whispered.
"Please excuse me, Miss Montgomery. I have been summoned."
With a quick bow, he followed the attendant toward the refreshment area.
She stood alone for a few moments, then made her way toward the edge of the room. Though she could not see any of it, Ronnie could imagine the ladies of the royal party questioning the Lieutenant about his experiences, and she thought of how he might tell them of his adventures, the amazing rescue of the Duke. How would he receive the Princess's acclaim? The other night at Stapleford Manor he'd modestly brushed off their admiration for his heroics. He said he'd wished he could have done more.
When the orchestra again began to play for the next sets, Ronnie sought a chair behind a potted palm, unwilling to stand up with someone with whom she had not been acquainted before. No doubt the master of ceremonies prowled about, encouraging more dancers. When Lieutenant Endicott came back to the dance floor, perhaps she preferred watching his fine form execute the figures of the dances. Or if he came back to the ballroom, she could leave her hiding place. Perhaps he would seek her out again for another set. In the meantime, she spotted Lord Appleby dancing with William's sister Anthea. She moved a little closer to the shelter of the palm. The last thing she wanted tonight was to encounter him.
Almost an hour later, as though she lived an impossible dream, she was delighted when the Lieutenant appeared and solicited her hand for the next dance. She felt as though she floated through the steps, both feeling every twist and turn while at the same time she visualised herself from far overhead, moving to catch Endicott's hand, twirling away, then moving down the line beside him.
Her heady sense of fantasy lasted all the way home, until Lady Montgomery's endless exclamations of joy at her daughters' successes sent both Ronnie and Cici to bed.
Chapter Nine
A few days later, Drew looked over the Royal Arms Dining Parlour, set for fourteen guests this evening for Chef Andre's magnificent menu of dishes. It was a trial of the menu they planned for a dinner in Princess Charlotte's honour next week. He had cleared the experiment with Lady Montgomery and she, in turn, had informed Lady Stapleford of the purpose of the splendid bill of fare.
Drew and Andre had chosen to feature Dorset's favourite delicacies, subject to the commentary of the diners. Miss Montgomery reported that Lieutenant Endicott was delighted to attend and would spice his Waterloo stories with details of his tête à tête with Princess Charlotte.
When Andre entered, wiping his hands on a large, stained cloth, He poked Drew's shoulder with a sharp finger.
"What do you think, mon ami?"
It was laughter over their mutual disdain for each other's accents that had first made the two of them friends.
