under her bust to cinch the dresses together and was tied elaborately in the middle of her back. She wore her hair up in a simple twisted bun, letting a natural curl fall about each ear. She wore simple silk slippers of the same apple green.
She loved this dress. It usually made her feel vibrant and confident, but tonight, she wanted to blend into the walls and if at all possible, to disappear entirely, and retreat to her room. She looked down at her dance card. It was blank. She sighed and looked for her mother, hoping to find a seat among the dowagers so she could hide. She took two steps but then she was caught. Lucy, Anabelle, Hazel, and Dorothea stood in a semi-circle before her.
“Where do you think you are going?” Lucy said, arms folded across her chest.
“To sit with my mother,” Heather said defiantly.
“We won’t let you wilt against the wall. You deserve some enjoyment. Dance, be merry!” Anabelle scolded affectionately. The other girls nodded in agreement.
Heather hid her dance card in the folds of her dress. “I don’t wish to dance, truthfully.”
Hazel grabbed her wrist and lifted the card for all to see. “She is determined to not enjoy herself. You need our help, Heather.”
“It is pointless for any gentleman to dance with me,” Heather argued.
“Dancing is never pointless.” Hazel looped her arm through hers and Anabelle did the same on the other side.
Heather was caught. She was both grateful and annoyed.
Lucy headed them like a General going to war, and with unnatural skill, secured a full dance card for Heather.
“See? Men are blind fools. You have to stand before them and wave the card in front of their eyes. Otherwise, they have no idea what they should be doing.”
“I’m strangely impressed with your methods of manipulation.” Heather laughed.
“It helps to have a brother. I’ve seen the simple inner workings of the male mind.”
“God help your future husband,” Dorothea mumbled.
“My father assures me I will be a trial for him, but he says it quite lovingly.” Lucy beamed. “Now, shall we find some refreshment before the dancing begins?”
The girls nodded and moved in the direction of the refreshment parlor. It was slow going now that the room had filled to capacity. Heather looked down at her dance card. Most of the gentlemen were innocuous acquaintances, harmless really, but one gave her pause. He had eagerly added his name, a spark of mischief in his eyes. Lord Draven was lately behaving in a very puzzling manner towards her, and she had yet to understand why.
Heather was not looking forward to it.
The evening carried on. Heather was thankful for the effort extended by her dear friends, and was actually beginning to enjoy herself. Every time her thoughts strayed to those kind, blue eyes, and warm smile, she let herself be distracted once again by the gentleman she was dancing with, or the witty musings of the gentlemen that followed Lucy and Anabelle like loyal troops. The conversation was boisterous. Champagne flowed freely and fed the gaiety. She could smile without effort now, the light in her eyes sparkling with genuine amusement. It helped that the evening was passing quickly.
*
Fallon retired to his borrowed Study with a darkness inside he hadn’t felt since he was a small boy. He hated the sight of Heather in another man’s arms. Innocent though the dancing was, jealousy boiled in him like hot tar. He sought refuge in the Study and paced before the fire. It was eating at his insides since the moment she had left the music room. He hadn’t realized the gravity of what he’d done or the depth of turmoil he would cause for her and himself. What had he been thinking? He was mad to do it, to even think to do it. But it was too late. He was smitten. He was drugged by the essence of her. What was he going to do? He sat in a chair before the fire, bent over his knees, head in his hands, and just stared at the floor. He was a fool to think there
She loved this dress. It usually made her feel vibrant and confident, but tonight, she wanted to blend into the walls and if at all possible, to disappear entirely, and retreat to her room. She looked down at her dance card. It was blank. She sighed and looked for her mother, hoping to find a seat among the dowagers so she could hide. She took two steps but then she was caught. Lucy, Anabelle, Hazel, and Dorothea stood in a semi-circle before her.
“Where do you think you are going?” Lucy said, arms folded across her chest.
“To sit with my mother,” Heather said defiantly.
“We won’t let you wilt against the wall. You deserve some enjoyment. Dance, be merry!” Anabelle scolded affectionately. The other girls nodded in agreement.
Heather hid her dance card in the folds of her dress. “I don’t wish to dance, truthfully.”
Hazel grabbed her wrist and lifted the card for all to see. “She is determined to not enjoy herself. You need our help, Heather.”
“It is pointless for any gentleman to dance with me,” Heather argued.
“Dancing is never pointless.” Hazel looped her arm through hers and Anabelle did the same on the other side.
Heather was caught. She was both grateful and annoyed.
Lucy headed them like a General going to war, and with unnatural skill, secured a full dance card for Heather.
“See? Men are blind fools. You have to stand before them and wave the card in front of their eyes. Otherwise, they have no idea what they should be doing.”
“I’m strangely impressed with your methods of manipulation.” Heather laughed.
“It helps to have a brother. I’ve seen the simple inner workings of the male mind.”
“God help your future husband,” Dorothea mumbled.
“My father assures me I will be a trial for him, but he says it quite lovingly.” Lucy beamed. “Now, shall we find some refreshment before the dancing begins?”
The girls nodded and moved in the direction of the refreshment parlor. It was slow going now that the room had filled to capacity. Heather looked down at her dance card. Most of the gentlemen were innocuous acquaintances, harmless really, but one gave her pause. He had eagerly added his name, a spark of mischief in his eyes. Lord Draven was lately behaving in a very puzzling manner towards her, and she had yet to understand why.
Heather was not looking forward to it.
The evening carried on. Heather was thankful for the effort extended by her dear friends, and was actually beginning to enjoy herself. Every time her thoughts strayed to those kind, blue eyes, and warm smile, she let herself be distracted once again by the gentleman she was dancing with, or the witty musings of the gentlemen that followed Lucy and Anabelle like loyal troops. The conversation was boisterous. Champagne flowed freely and fed the gaiety. She could smile without effort now, the light in her eyes sparkling with genuine amusement. It helped that the evening was passing quickly.
*
Fallon retired to his borrowed Study with a darkness inside he hadn’t felt since he was a small boy. He hated the sight of Heather in another man’s arms. Innocent though the dancing was, jealousy boiled in him like hot tar. He sought refuge in the Study and paced before the fire. It was eating at his insides since the moment she had left the music room. He hadn’t realized the gravity of what he’d done or the depth of turmoil he would cause for her and himself. What had he been thinking? He was mad to do it, to even think to do it. But it was too late. He was smitten. He was drugged by the essence of her. What was he going to do? He sat in a chair before the fire, bent over his knees, head in his hands, and just stared at the floor. He was a fool to think there
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