Lady Martin entertained the young ladies with tales of the many balls she had attended as a girl: “The table for dinner was three hundred feet long with a centerpiece of white orchids and green fern all entwined with a riband of crimson satin from one end of the table to the other—and the entire thing was not fabric and flowers at all, but fashioned out of spun sugar!”—“Five or six full chandeliers, and each one was said to cost eight thousand pounds!”—“White velvet from head to toe—even to her slippers! And she came out of the evening with scarcely a spot upon it, for she danced only one dance and would eat and drink nothing at all.”

The effect upon the young ladies was to amaze Maria Manwaring, who began to think that all the time she had been out had been squandered attending very inferior balls, and to frighten Frederica, who had never been to a ball in all her life.

When their carriage turned along Cavendish Square, a sensation of awe overwhelmed any remaining feelings of delightful anticipation. The carriage was forced to settle into a queue of three dozen vehicles.

“Good heavens!” cried Lady Martin. “He has invited all of London! Look how Lady Millbanke hurries her girls down from the carriage, as she is eager that one of them will get Sir James for the first dance. I will not have us scramble down the street in such a common fashion!”

The progression of the carriage to the door took a full half hour, and when their destination was at last in view, they were very happy to see Mr. Lewis deCourcy step ahead of the footmen to hand the ladies down, claiming Miss Manwaring with that particular confidence of a successful lover.

Frederica began to feel the effect of her appearance in the whispers and glances that attended her party as they ascended the stairs. In town, private balls varied from one another only in the setting, but the company was very much the same—anybody new was an object of great curiosity, and Frederica had the advantage of her adventure at Miss Summers’s, her connection with the Martins, and her elegance of dress to provoke audible murmurs of “She is every bit the beauty that her mother is!” and “Her gown cannot have cost her less than a hundred guineas!”

The room they entered was splendidly appointed and ablaze with light; the effect upon Frederica was quite overpowering and she would have turned away into one of the quieter passages when her cousin approached and took her hand. “And where is your mother? I know that she cannot be dancing, but it would have been quite allowable for her to come as your chaperone.”

“My mother was certain that my aunt would do as well and that her presence would not be missed.”

“I can agree with the first sentiment, but I protest the second. But, come, you must attend to your office—as the guest of honor, you must receive with me.”

“Oh, no—you must take my Aunt Martin!” cried Frederica in horror.

“Nonsense!” declared Lady Martin, who had come up behind them. “I see a fine chair in the corner, if Lady Millbanke does not claim it, where I can watch the dancing. You have said nothing of the girls’ dress, James, and they both took most particular care. I must have some compliments to bring back with me to Portland Place.”

“I cannot hope to be more eloquent than their own mirrors, Mother. Miss Manwaring has a very particular bloom that must be attributed to more than the becoming shade of her gown. I cannot hope to interest you in any of the first dances, Miss Manwaring, as there is one who has the greater claim, but I would be very honored if you would oblige me later in the evening.”

The lady gave him a very pretty smile.

He then attended his cousin to her post, where she was obliged to curtsy and shake hands with a great many people and think of some answer to their pleasantries that at least gave the impression of ease and interest. There was only a moment of coolness when Lady Hamilton appeared with her eldest daughters. The Hamiltons could not bring themselves to decline an invitation to so superior a gathering, and yet they were deeply humiliated to see Frederica at her cousin’s side and to think of her making such a fine match, when her mother had stolen Reginald from Lavinia.

When the company was well assembled, Frederica had hoped to be released from her cousin’s side and go to her aunt, where she might sit and observe in silence. Her knowledge of how everything was to proceed had come only from conversation and books, and she was discomfited, therefore, to learn that she was to open the ball with her cousin. The artlessness that had preserved her from any fear of not having a partner was unequal to this discovery. “Oh, but, cousin—surely it cannot be my place! There are so many young ladies who are higher—who have a right to expect the distinction!”

“Yes, there are too many of them who expect it, but none who deserves it more,” he said as he conducted her to the top of the room. “Have no fear, cousin, I will claim only the two first—it was quite settled between young deCourcy and myself that I should have you open the dance and then he may have as much of your company as he likes.”

Frederica replied with a blush and a toss of her head, and began the dance with more elegance and composure than she was feeling. It was her nature to learn everything thoroughly, and when impressed with the fact that young ladies must dance, she had applied herself to the process with as much dedication as to science, and with as much success. The attention of everyone was engaged by their host and his partner as they went down the dance; they saw nothing that suggested an aversion to her cousin on Miss Vernon’s part and yet nothing that indicated anything like infatuation on his. The rumors of their engagement had everyone on his side—he was handsome, amiable, and rich, and Miss Vernon was a very great fool if she did not like him; yet that had been resolved before she was seen very much at all. Indeed, she was everything that was lovely and elegant, and many of the young men who had precipitately engaged other partners for every dance began to regret their haste, while those who had saved a dance or two readied themselves to petition her in the course of the evening.

Sir James would have escorted her to his mother, but Lucy Smith caught Frederica’s hand as soon as she had finished dancing and whisked her to the side of the room. “How exquisite your gown is! I have such a good bit of gossip! You will die of laughter when I tell you! They are all so angry that Lavinia could not sit still to have her hair dressed! Only look how it has frizzed all over! My uncle has written to my mother and told her that Reginald does not mean to marry Livvy! Only think of all the gentlemen she took no notice of because she was secure of him! My uncle’s letter was so solemn—‘We erred, my dear sister, in substituting our own wishes for theirs, and supposing that filial obligation must include a surrender of all inclination. Reginald’s heart, I believe, has been fixed elsewhere’!” Here, Lucy broke into a fit of giggles. “Ah, you look so conscious! And to have Sir Reginald call upon your mother so immediately upon coming to town—so, is it all settled between them?”

The color rushed into Frederica’s cheeks. The journey from Kent to London had increased her and Reginald’s admiration of each other—Reginald was captivated by her thoughtful conversation and her beauty, and she was very pleased with his opinions and manners. The engagement of Maria and Lewis deCourcy, moreover, had put them both in a frame of mind to think and talk of marriage, and the length of the journey was just enough for them to understand that their views on the subject were very much the same.

Still, Lucy spoke as though Reginald or his father had already addressed Lady Vernon and Frederica was undecided whether to be pleased at Lucy’s conviction that Reginald had declared himself or to be offended that he had not declared himself to her before speaking to her mother.

“Ah, here comes my dear Smith again,” declared Lucy, “plaguing me to dance—to have him importune me so when he sought my hand was well and good, but a husband does not need to court his wife.”

Mr. Smith claimed her, and Frederica began to make her way around the room toward Lady Martin, when a group of people standing together to comment upon the dancing and the company barred her path, and she happened to catch some of their conversation. “Lady Vernon has quite captivated young deCourcy, I understand, and Sir Reginald has come to London on purpose to give them his blessing. They must wait until Miss Vernon weds Sir James, of course—it would not be suitable for the mother to marry before the daughter.”

Can that have been Lucy’s meaning? Frederica wondered. She did not know whether to laugh or to cry—she had come to be inured to the belief that she was to marry Sir James and was content that such a rumor must die out in time—but to think that Reginald was to wed her mother!

She went and sat down beside her aunt.

“Why, what is the matter, child? You are quite pale. One dance cannot have done you in, for here comes young deCourcy to claim you.”

“Oh, Aunt, I cannot—do make some excuse! What significance will everyone put upon our dancing together?”

“What do you mean?”

Reginald came up to the ladies and bowed, and after exchanging a few words with Lady Martin, he petitioned Frederica for the next set.

Frederica could not refuse. She danced the first dance with more diligence than feeling, and as the second was to begin, Reginald looked at her closely and said in a low voice, “I think that you would rather sit down—may we not go up to the conservatory? It will be cooler there.”