her a drink and she stood looking in at the
ballroom brightly lit by a vast candelabra and full of talking and dancing
guests. No wonder she had felt faint: half of Edinburgh looked to be there. She
saw Lottie on Mr Alexander Fenbridge’s arm, moving away from the dance area,
only to be stopped by Mr Brightford and head back again with him. She smiled,
happy that her friend was enjoying the evening.
Her smile faded as she watched the dance
begin. Given his attention at this ball and the last one they had attended,
Amelia wondered if Mr Brightford could possibly be interested in courting
Lottie. It was a thought that alarmed her. Lottie would never be able to cope
with his insults and bad temper. No, she told herself, it was far more likely
that he actually did possess a speck of goodness and was being kind to Lottie.
She thought that the same was probably,
unfortunately, true of Mr Alexander Fenbridge. He seemed to like Lottie but
showed no sign of great admiration, let alone love. This meant that the chances
of Lottie gaining a husband this season were rapidly diminishing and Amelia was
afraid that if Lottie did not get over Saverney’s desertion now then she might
always feel tainted by it and by the censure of society and never marry.
Mr Wrackley returned with two drinks and
she forgot about the presence of anyone else as she thanked him and sipped the
lemonade, feeling a strange awareness of his body next to hers. She had never
experienced anything like the sensations he aroused in her. It was frightening
yet also exciting.
“Would you tell me something of your home?”
He smiled down at her, cheeks dimpling. “What
do you wish to know?”
“Something of your life. I do not even know
your favourite pastimes or what family you have.” It seemed impossible that she
actually knew so little when she felt such a strong connection to him.
“I enjoy riding. I have a fondness for
cards but I do not gamble excessively. My parents are dead but I have three
sisters, two older than me and one younger, along with two younger brothers.”
“How pleasant. I think I should have liked
siblings, although I do think of Lottie like a sister.”
“And your preferred pastimes?”
“I can think of nothing in the world more
pleasant than this evening.” As soon as the words slipped out she realised it
might be improper to suggest his company meant so much to her so soon, but Mr
Wrackley looked far from censorious.
His gaze grew more intense, dark gaze as
warm as a fire. “I can think of nothing save how beautiful you are.”
They gazed at each other and she savoured
every moment and drank in everything about his face.
“There you are, Amelia!”
She jumped at her mother’s voice, loud and
dry, and just in front of them, in the open doorway.
“I felt a little faint, Mama.” She did not
know why she should feel guilty. They had not done anything wrong. “Mr Wrackley
just brought me outside and fetched me a drink while I recovered.”
“If you have done so I think we had better
return to the other guests.”
They followed her inside, joining Lottie,
Benjamin, Mr Brightford, Mr Alexander Fenbridge, Mr Nathaniel Fenbridge and the
newly married Mr and Mrs McIvett. The lady was no older than Amelia and the man
of no great fortune, but Mrs McIvett was assuming the grandest of airs.
“We had our honeymoon in London, of course.
There is nowhere better in the world than our country’s great capital.”
“I thought we were already in our country’s
capital,” Mr Brightford commented in a slightly bored tone, causing Amelia to
feel a momentary warmth towards him.
“Oh, you know what I meant, Mr Brightford,”
Mrs McIvett simpered, swatting him with her fan. “Do not tease.”
Amelia winced at this over-familiarity,
particularly with Mr Brightford of all people. He did not respond to the
comment but looked even more pained than usual.
Lottie broke the silence by asking what
they had liked best about London. She
ballroom brightly lit by a vast candelabra and full of talking and dancing
guests. No wonder she had felt faint: half of Edinburgh looked to be there. She
saw Lottie on Mr Alexander Fenbridge’s arm, moving away from the dance area,
only to be stopped by Mr Brightford and head back again with him. She smiled,
happy that her friend was enjoying the evening.
Her smile faded as she watched the dance
begin. Given his attention at this ball and the last one they had attended,
Amelia wondered if Mr Brightford could possibly be interested in courting
Lottie. It was a thought that alarmed her. Lottie would never be able to cope
with his insults and bad temper. No, she told herself, it was far more likely
that he actually did possess a speck of goodness and was being kind to Lottie.
She thought that the same was probably,
unfortunately, true of Mr Alexander Fenbridge. He seemed to like Lottie but
showed no sign of great admiration, let alone love. This meant that the chances
of Lottie gaining a husband this season were rapidly diminishing and Amelia was
afraid that if Lottie did not get over Saverney’s desertion now then she might
always feel tainted by it and by the censure of society and never marry.
Mr Wrackley returned with two drinks and
she forgot about the presence of anyone else as she thanked him and sipped the
lemonade, feeling a strange awareness of his body next to hers. She had never
experienced anything like the sensations he aroused in her. It was frightening
yet also exciting.
“Would you tell me something of your home?”
He smiled down at her, cheeks dimpling. “What
do you wish to know?”
“Something of your life. I do not even know
your favourite pastimes or what family you have.” It seemed impossible that she
actually knew so little when she felt such a strong connection to him.
“I enjoy riding. I have a fondness for
cards but I do not gamble excessively. My parents are dead but I have three
sisters, two older than me and one younger, along with two younger brothers.”
“How pleasant. I think I should have liked
siblings, although I do think of Lottie like a sister.”
“And your preferred pastimes?”
“I can think of nothing in the world more
pleasant than this evening.” As soon as the words slipped out she realised it
might be improper to suggest his company meant so much to her so soon, but Mr
Wrackley looked far from censorious.
His gaze grew more intense, dark gaze as
warm as a fire. “I can think of nothing save how beautiful you are.”
They gazed at each other and she savoured
every moment and drank in everything about his face.
“There you are, Amelia!”
She jumped at her mother’s voice, loud and
dry, and just in front of them, in the open doorway.
“I felt a little faint, Mama.” She did not
know why she should feel guilty. They had not done anything wrong. “Mr Wrackley
just brought me outside and fetched me a drink while I recovered.”
“If you have done so I think we had better
return to the other guests.”
They followed her inside, joining Lottie,
Benjamin, Mr Brightford, Mr Alexander Fenbridge, Mr Nathaniel Fenbridge and the
newly married Mr and Mrs McIvett. The lady was no older than Amelia and the man
of no great fortune, but Mrs McIvett was assuming the grandest of airs.
“We had our honeymoon in London, of course.
There is nowhere better in the world than our country’s great capital.”
“I thought we were already in our country’s
capital,” Mr Brightford commented in a slightly bored tone, causing Amelia to
feel a momentary warmth towards him.
“Oh, you know what I meant, Mr Brightford,”
Mrs McIvett simpered, swatting him with her fan. “Do not tease.”
Amelia winced at this over-familiarity,
particularly with Mr Brightford of all people. He did not respond to the
comment but looked even more pained than usual.
Lottie broke the silence by asking what
they had liked best about London. She
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