Amanda McCabe - The Demure Miss Manning

Mary went up on her toes, trying to study the crowd, but just as on the stairs the press and movement were too much to make out anything more than a vivid, shifting kaleidoscope of whites, pinks, blues and yellows, mixed with the dark tones of the men’s tailored coats.

She caught a glimpse of her father, standing across the room with the prime minister and a clutch of other politicians. Their faces looked most solemn in the middle of all the merriment. Mary knew he wouldn’t need her for some time.

Lady Louisa was quickly claimed for the first dance by her coveted Lord Andrewson. Mary made her way to one of the small gilt-and-satin chairs lined up along the walls, finding a place to sit amid the gossiping chaperons. From there, she had a view of the ballroom doors, where all the new arrivals had to stop.

She was quickly beginning to feel rather foolish, though, waiting for a man who might not even appear.

The musicians launched into the first dance. Mary opened and closed her lace fan, trying to concentrate on the dancers, the beautiful swirl of the ladies’ pastel gowns and flashing jewels, the men’s fine coats. She tried to distract herself and think of things besides Sebastian Barrett, as she should do at a ball. But nothing quite seemed to work. She felt most unaccountably—fidgety.

She glanced at a tall, ornate clock against the far wall and realised it really was quite early. Many partygoers wouldn’t have even finished their dinners yet. She saw Louisa whirl past and gave her a little wave.

Just beyond the dance floor, Mary caught a glimpse of Sebastian Barrett’s friends, the ones he had been with at Lady Alnworth’s: Lord Paul Gilesworth, Lord James Sackville and Mr Nicholas Warren. Much to her surprise, they were watching her in return. Gilesworth even had a quizzing glass to his eye.

Somehow, that regard made her shiver. She felt quite exposed, as if she was wandering in a cold wood alone late at night. She waved her fan harder and looked away, only peeking back once quickly.

Gilesworth was laughing, while Mr Warren shook his head, frowning. Mary realised she rather liked Mr Warren, he seemed sweet, like a puppy dog. But she did not like Lord Paul Gilesworth, his smile never reached his eyes. She couldn’t imagine why either of them would watch her.

When she looked their way again, they had vanished into the crowd and there were only the laughing dancers. She felt quite relieved.

The dance ended, and Lord Andrewson left Louisa in the empty chair next to Mary’s, promising to fetch them punch and return directly.

‘What a crush it is tonight!’ Louisa cried, snapping open her own painted-silk fan. ‘I can scarcely breathe. I vow my slippers will be in shreds by the end of the evening.’

Mary smiled at her. ‘But surely Lord Andrewson is quite the fine dancer.’

Louisa laughed. ‘He rather is! But you must dance, too, Mary, the music is too merry not to.’ She turned her head to study the room. ‘What of Mr Domnhall? Oh, no, he is such a bore—he would put you to sleep even in the middle of a reel, talking of the fishing at his estate in Scotland. Or Lord Sackville? He is rather handsome...’

‘Lord Sebastian Barrett,’ the duchess’s butler suddenly announced. The ballroom doors opened again, and Sebastian Barrett appeared at last. Mary’s hand tightened on the carved-ivory sticks of her fan.

He wore his regimentals again, brilliant red-and-gold braid. His hair, that golden-shot-brown that seemed so intriguingly changeable, gleamed like new guineas in the light of the hundreds of candles. It seemed as if time slowed and sped up all at once, the music and laughter becoming a muted blur as Mary watched him. All the light in that dazzling room seemed to gather directly on him, leaving all else in shadow.

He had a mysterious little half-smile as he studied the room before him. His bright, sea-green gaze slid over the assembly—and landed right on Mary. She was so startled she had no time to look away, or even disguise what she was feeling. That sudden rush of pure, molten excitement at seeing him again after all her hopes and fears, the warm giddiness that took hold of her—she feared it was all written on her face.

And after all those years of carefully learning to control her feelings. To always be perfectly, politely smiling. It was most absurd.

The duchess hurried over to greet him, the diamond-sparkled plumes of her elaborate headdress waving, and he was quickly surrounded by the crowd. Mary looked down at the floor and snapped open her fan again.

‘Or perhaps you were wise not to dance yet, Mary dear,’ Louisa said. ‘Not when there are suddenly far more—interesting partners now available.’

Mary glanced up at her friend in surprise. Were her thoughts now so apparent to everyone ? ‘Louisa, I hardly think someone like Lord Sebastian Barrett would have any shortage of dance partners.’

‘La, who said anything about Lord Sebastian?’ Louisa cried. ‘Yet you had such a look on your face when he came in and I would vow he looked right at you . He could do no better for a dinner partner and you, my friend, are much prettier than you ever give yourself credit for. Now, come with me.’

Mary had not an instant to protest as Louisa took her arm and bustled her away from the dowagers’ chairs. She pulled Mary through the heavy press of the crowd, so quickly there was no time to look at the people they pushed past. They nearly stumbled over one lady’s train and Mary stammered an apology.

‘Ah, Lord Sebastian! Surely you remember us. We met at Lady Alnworth’s,’ Louisa cried. Mary whipped her head back around to find they had landed right in front of Lord Sebastian. The duchess watched them with an astonished look on her face, her gloved hand on the red sleeve of her prized guest, the heroic Lord Sebastian. But Mary barely noticed the social nuances she was usually so carefully attuned to. She could only see him.

‘Lady Louisa, Miss Manning,’ he said with a bow. ‘How very good to see you again. I was hoping you would be here tonight.’

‘Were you?’ Mary blurted out, then bit her lip.

He smiled down at her, his eyes shimmering. ‘Indeed. I enjoyed our talk at Lady Alnworth’s. I did glimpse you both at the park, but did not want to interrupt your conversation. Such fine weather this morning.’

Weather? It seemed such a mundane thing to speak of after all Mary’s daydreams of his handsome face, his voice, his smile. Yet she was glad of the familiar chatter. It gave her time to compose herself. She surreptitiously smoothed her skirt and gave him a careful smile.

After a few more pleasantries about the warm days and the loveliness of the party, the duchess was reluctantly distracted by even more new arrivals and Louisa tugged on Mary’s hand.

‘Lord Sebastian, I fear dear Miss Manning was just saying the ballroom is so very crowded she feels rather faint,’ Louisa said. ‘We were just on our way to seek some fresh air, but I fear I must repair my torn hem.’

Mary looked frantically at Louisa, trying to shake her head in protest. Whatever was her friend trying to do? Her face felt flaming warm all over again. But Louisa just smiled.

‘If Miss Manning feels faint, I would be happy to escort her to the terrace for a moment. I am not so fond of crowds myself,’ Lord Sebastian said, his smile crinkling the corners of his eyes. It made him look even more handsome.

‘Lord Sebastian, really, you must not—’ Mary began, breaking off on a gasp as Louisa’s grip tightened.

‘So very kind, Lord Sebastian!’ Louisa said merrily. ‘I will join you both in just a moment.’

Louisa spun away and Lord Sebastian held out his red-clad arm to Mary.

She accepted, feeling caught up once again in a hazy, sparkling dream, and let him escort her to the half-open doors of the terrace. She was afraid to look at the people around them, afraid to look up at all, almost fearing it would all vanish.