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Authors: Katherine Marlowe
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entirely too good and earnest, Mr. Valentine.”
“You do me too much honour, Mr. Everett,” Percival said. “Certainly I may have some qualities of roguishness.”
“I believe it none whatsoever,” Mr. Everett said. His smile was wider now. “I think you are woven entirely of courtesy and account-books.”
Sensing that he was being teased, Percival flushed and prickled. “I am—I have other qualities! Indeed, I—I am entirely too familiar with the ladies of my parish.”
“Oh!” Mr. Everett said, beginning to laugh, being much returned to his good humour of their first acquaintance. “ Are you?”
“I am indeed,” Percival insisted, lifting his chin proudly at his very slender claim to being a rake-shame. “I am even so profligate as to kiss certain ladies upon their cheeks.”
Mr. Everett gasped and clutched at his heart. “Mr. Valentine! Do not say so!”
“Well,” Percival said, since Mr. Everett’s play-acting was rather good and Percival entertained the sudden worried notion that Mr. Everett might in fact have believed some scandal upon Percival’s character, “to be sure, they are all widowed ladies, and such as I have known since I was the smallest child, for I would certainly never take such familiarity with a maiden lady.”
“I am much reassured,” Mr. Everett said, coughing as he attempted to quell his laughter. “I think that perhaps I may even deign to continue our acquaintance, despite this most shocking revelation.”
“That is very kind of you,” Percival said, holding his chin up, although he was not entirely sure if they had determined whether or not Percival was entirely starched and strait-laced. It worried him briefly that he might have become a matter of sport amongst his new friends because of his pedantic leanings, but he hoped indeed that the Boltons and Mr. Everett were all three too good-natured to make such sport at the expense of their acquaintances.
Percival found himself pulled away from Mr. Everett as the party got fully underway. They were both called upon frequently to dance—Percival on account of being well-known and generally well-liked in the district, and Mr. Everett on account, as Percival had expected, of his handsome face and mysterious demeanour. Mr. Bolton likewise was kept very busy, due to his lively demeanour and wit, and Miss Bolton was in such demand that her friends were only able to secure dances with her because of having prior claims.
The musicians were quite skilled, and Percival was proud of having procured them. Miss Bolton had provided the players with the music of some of the most popular new songs from London, including more than one waltz, but those were interspersed with more familiar dancing tunes. All the country gentry in attendance were familiar with the country jigs that were played, and the dance floor was kept quite full with energetic reels.
Mr. Everett cut quite a fine figure as he danced. Percival found his eye drawn to him, again and again. There were quite a few dances to be had, and Percival watched his friends and acquaintances with great pleasure. He saw that Miss Bolton danced several times with Mr. Humphrey, the rector, and that Mr. Bolton seemed to have earned favour in the eyes of all three daughters of the Beckinsale family.
True to his word, Mr. Bolton took a turn with Percival. He danced well, with great energy and cheer, and Percival enjoyed himself thoroughly.
The few waltzes that were played were all entirely unfamiliar to Percival. During them, he lingered near the sides of the dance floor, along with a generous contingent of the other guests who either did not know or approve of waltzing.
Mr. Everett found him during one of these. “Do you not waltz, Mr. Valentine?”
“I’m afraid I have never learned,” Percival said.
“I did promise you a dance,” Mr. Everett reminded him, with a half-smile that hinted at warmth. “If you will take a turn with me, I should gladly teach you.”
“I
“You do me too much honour, Mr. Everett,” Percival said. “Certainly I may have some qualities of roguishness.”
“I believe it none whatsoever,” Mr. Everett said. His smile was wider now. “I think you are woven entirely of courtesy and account-books.”
Sensing that he was being teased, Percival flushed and prickled. “I am—I have other qualities! Indeed, I—I am entirely too familiar with the ladies of my parish.”
“Oh!” Mr. Everett said, beginning to laugh, being much returned to his good humour of their first acquaintance. “ Are you?”
“I am indeed,” Percival insisted, lifting his chin proudly at his very slender claim to being a rake-shame. “I am even so profligate as to kiss certain ladies upon their cheeks.”
Mr. Everett gasped and clutched at his heart. “Mr. Valentine! Do not say so!”
“Well,” Percival said, since Mr. Everett’s play-acting was rather good and Percival entertained the sudden worried notion that Mr. Everett might in fact have believed some scandal upon Percival’s character, “to be sure, they are all widowed ladies, and such as I have known since I was the smallest child, for I would certainly never take such familiarity with a maiden lady.”
“I am much reassured,” Mr. Everett said, coughing as he attempted to quell his laughter. “I think that perhaps I may even deign to continue our acquaintance, despite this most shocking revelation.”
“That is very kind of you,” Percival said, holding his chin up, although he was not entirely sure if they had determined whether or not Percival was entirely starched and strait-laced. It worried him briefly that he might have become a matter of sport amongst his new friends because of his pedantic leanings, but he hoped indeed that the Boltons and Mr. Everett were all three too good-natured to make such sport at the expense of their acquaintances.
Percival found himself pulled away from Mr. Everett as the party got fully underway. They were both called upon frequently to dance—Percival on account of being well-known and generally well-liked in the district, and Mr. Everett on account, as Percival had expected, of his handsome face and mysterious demeanour. Mr. Bolton likewise was kept very busy, due to his lively demeanour and wit, and Miss Bolton was in such demand that her friends were only able to secure dances with her because of having prior claims.
The musicians were quite skilled, and Percival was proud of having procured them. Miss Bolton had provided the players with the music of some of the most popular new songs from London, including more than one waltz, but those were interspersed with more familiar dancing tunes. All the country gentry in attendance were familiar with the country jigs that were played, and the dance floor was kept quite full with energetic reels.
Mr. Everett cut quite a fine figure as he danced. Percival found his eye drawn to him, again and again. There were quite a few dances to be had, and Percival watched his friends and acquaintances with great pleasure. He saw that Miss Bolton danced several times with Mr. Humphrey, the rector, and that Mr. Bolton seemed to have earned favour in the eyes of all three daughters of the Beckinsale family.
True to his word, Mr. Bolton took a turn with Percival. He danced well, with great energy and cheer, and Percival enjoyed himself thoroughly.
The few waltzes that were played were all entirely unfamiliar to Percival. During them, he lingered near the sides of the dance floor, along with a generous contingent of the other guests who either did not know or approve of waltzing.
Mr. Everett found him during one of these. “Do you not waltz, Mr. Valentine?”
“I’m afraid I have never learned,” Percival said.
“I did promise you a dance,” Mr. Everett reminded him, with a half-smile that hinted at warmth. “If you will take a turn with me, I should gladly teach you.”
“I
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