And then the music began.
She had loved the waltz from the moment she began learning it. She had thought it daring and romantic and graceful and… Oh, and a whole host of other things.
But she had never waltzed at a real ball until now.
And she had never waltzed with Elliott until now.
She had never before waltzed among flowers and perfumes and the myriad colors of the silks and satins and muslins and lace of dozens of guests or among the sparkle of jewels in candlelight or the glow of the candles themselves. She had never before waltzed to the music of a full orchestra.
She had never before waltzed with the man she loved.
For of course she was more than just /in /love with Elliott.
He led her into the steps of the waltz and she instantly forgot her fears of bungling them and making an idiot of herself.
She forgot that she was not really beautiful, that he did not really love her. She waltzed and it seemed to her - or would have if she had paused for conscious thought - that she had never enjoyed anything more in her whole life.
She kept her eyes on her husband's face - dark-complexioned, classically handsome, blue-eyed - and smiled at him. And he looked back at her, his eyes roaming over her features.
She felt beautiful.
She felt cherished.
And she felt all the splendor of her surroundings as they swung about her in loops of light and color - and saw only Elliott.
She smiled more dazzlingly.
And finally, at last, oh, at last, his eyes smiled into hers and his lips curved upward ever so slightly at the corners.
It was surely the happiest moment of her life. "Oh," she said when it was obvious the music was coming to an end - and she realized it was the first sound either of them had uttered since the waltz began. "Is it over so soon?" "It is," he said. "I forgot to give the orchestra leader instructions to keep on playing forever." She laughed into his eyes, where the smile lingered. "How remiss of you," she said. "Yes." It was time for supper, and they were forced to separate in order to mingle with their guests.
But Vanessa would remember this evening, she thought, as one of the most memorable occasions of her life. Even apart from its other attractions, it was the evening during which she had fallen all the way in love with Elliott - so deeply, in fact, that there could no longer be any distinction between being /in /love with him and /loving /him with all her being and for all time.
She spared a regretful thought for Hedley and then nudged it gently away.
That was then.
This was now.
And /now /was a very good time in which to be living.
20
VANESSA walked over to Merton House on Berkeley Square the following afternoon to call upon her sisters. They were both at home, though Stephen was out. He had gone with Constantine to look at sporting curricles, though in Margaret's opinion he was far too young to be thinking of tooling around in such an impractical and potentially dangerous vehicle. "I do fear," she said as they all took a seat in the drawing room, "that he might turn into a wild young man. He is vastly impressed with London and everyone he has met here so far. And the trouble is that everyone is impressed with him too, even gentlemen several years older than he is.
They will lead him astray if they can." "He is merely fluttering his wings, Meg," Katherine assured her. "He has not even spread them yet. But it is inevitable that he will. We must trust that he has a steady enough character that he will not turn irresponsibly wild." "I have to agree with Kate," Vanessa said. "Stephen must be allowed to be a young gentleman just like every other, Meg, and find his own way to being the person he wishes to be." "Oh, I suppose you are both right," Margaret conceded with a sigh. "Indeed, I /know /you are. It is just that he is still so very young. He is too young to be here, where there are so many distractions and temptations." "If it is any consolation," Vanessa said, "Elliott takes his responsibility to our brother very seriously. He will keep a careful eye on him in that male world into which we cannot intrude. And it is into that world that he has retreated himself this morning, wise man. The conversation at breakfast was of nothing but balls and beaux and conquests. Cecily has received no fewer than five bouquets from gentlemen with whom she danced. She has declared herself an unqualified success, and we have all agreed with her." "And you thought to escape by coming here?" Katherine said. "Have you looked about you, Nessie?" Vanessa did so now and laughed. Meg had always kept the house full of flowers in season, but never with so many lavish bouquets as adorned the room today. "/More /success?" she said. "And /more /beaux?" "Singular in my case," Margaret said. "The white roses are mine. The Marquess of Allingham was kind enough to send them. All the other bouquets are Kate's - four of them." "I was never more surprised in my life," Katherine said. "I felt like a country cousin last evening despite all my finery. This is all quite absurd." "Not at all," Vanessa said. "Both of you were more lovely than anyone else last evening and attracted a great deal of interest." "Because of Stephen," Margaret said. "Well, yes," Vanessa conceded. "Without Stephen we would all be back in Throckbridge living our old lives. But even there you both had more than your fair share of admirers. Enough of such talk, though. It is a lovely day. Shall we go for a walk in the park?" It was a welcome suggestion to two country ladies. And Hyde Park was large enough to seem like a good chunk of the countryside dropped right into the middle of busy London.
They strolled along some of the quieter paths there, avoiding the crush of riders and carriages and strollers in the more fashionable area. "The Marquess of Allingham has invited Meg to drive here with him tomorrow afternoon," Katherine said. "Has he?" Vanessa looked at her elder sister, impressed. "And have you agreed to come here with him, Meg?" "I have," she said. "It was obliging of him to ask. He is a widower, you know." "And you, Kate?" Vanessa asked, smiling. "Did you meet anyone special at the ball last evening?" "Everyone was special," Katherine said predictably. "I had a truly lovely time. But is it not wonderful to be walking here in the quiet of the park and breathing in the smells of grass and trees? I miss Warren Hall. And I /do /miss Throckbridge so very much." "We will grow accustomed to this new life," Vanessa said. "And there will be so much to do over the next few months and so many new things to see and experience that there will scarcely be a moment in which to fret and feel homesick." "Constantine is going to take me to the Tower of London later this week," Katherine said, "and anywhere else I wish to go. I like him exceedingly. I wish we had known him all our lives. I wish we had known Jonathan." "Yes," Margaret and Vanessa both agreed.
They strolled onward, not talking all the time. They were all familiar enough with one another that they could be perfectly comfortable with silence, especially when there were the beauties of nature to enjoy.
Vanessa continued to relive yesterday - her presentation at court, the ball, her waltz with Elliott. The night with him.
It surely would be quite impossible to be happier than she had been then and was now today, she thought. She had danced only once with Elliott last evening, but it had been enough.
She would always remember their first waltz together.
And exhausted as they both ought to have been after such a busy day, they had made love over and over again through the night.
She was really quite tired today. But sometimes tiredness itself could be almost pleasurable.
She was three days late with her courses. /Only /three days. She must not hope too strongly. But even so, she was usually very regular.
But she did hope…Oh, she /hoped/.
Finally their route brought them close to the busy part of the park, the area where the whole of the fashionable world promenaded each afternoon.
The Marquess of Allingham was the first to stop to pay his respects to them. He was alone in a high-perch phaeton. "Lady Lyngate, Miss Huxtable, Miss Katherine," he said, touching the brim of his tall hat with his whip. "How do you do?" They assured him that they were doing very well indeed and Margaret thanked him for his flowers. "Word has it," he said, "that there is a chance of rain tomorrow." "Oh," Margaret said, "that would be a disappointment, my lord." "Perhaps," he said, "if your sisters can spare you, Miss Huxtable, you would care to take a turn with me now this afternoon. I will return you safely to your own door within the hour." Margaret looked inquiringly at her sisters. "But of course you must go, Meg," Vanessa said. "I will walk home with Kate." The marquess descended from his perch and handed Margaret up to the high seat beside his own. "I am glad," Vanessa said as she and Katherine watched them drive away, "that she is willing to enjoy the company of someone else." "Someone else?" Katherine asked. "Other than Crispin Dew," Vanessa said. "She has loved him all her life, you know. She would not marry him when he asked because of us. But they had an understanding when he went away." "Nessie!" Katherine cried, clearly stricken. "And he has just married a Spanish lady. Oh, poor Meg! I really had no idea. And to think that when we heard the news at Warren Hall, I teased her about being a little sweet on him when she was a girl. How that must have hurt!" "You cannot be blamed. Meg never was one to talk about herself or to display her feelings for all to see," Vanessa said. "I believe I was her only confidante as a girl, though now she does not confide her deepest feelings even in me. I will be happy if she finds someone else to love this Season or next." "Perhaps the marquess?" Katherine said. "He is not terribly handsome, is he, but he seems amiable enough. And he can be no more than ten years older than Meg." "And he /is /a marquess," Vanessa said, smiling. "How blasГ© we are becoming about such things already." "He is not a prince, though," Katherine said, and they both laughed and walked on.
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