"How sweet of both of you." Eleanor smiled with insincere sweetness at the sisters. They had meant for Shermont to see her swollen and wrapped in red flannel.
"Come in," Mina said to him. "Make yourself comfortable. Eleanor can act as our chaperone."
"Yes," Deirdre said. "We'll order some tea and have a nice cozy chat."
"No, thank you," Shermont refused again, main taining his position in the doorway. He covered a fake yawn with his hand. "I hate to admit it, but I think I'll take a little rest. I didn't get much sleep last night."
He said it with a straight face, but a hint of a cat-that-got-the-cream smile curled the corners of his mouth.
"Apparently the storm made for a restless night for everyone," Deirdre said.
"Yes," he agreed. "A tempest of a night."
"Hopefully we'll have good weather for the ball tonight," Deirdre said.
"Oh, I don't know," he said. "I now have a certain fondness for storms. I was rather hoping for a repeat of last night."
"Don't even say that," Mina said, horrified. "We must have good weather, or we can't set off the fireworks we ordered. Oops! I wasn't supposed to let out the surprise. Please don't tell anyone, especially Teddy."
"Why? Doesn't he know?"
"Of course he does. He made the arrangements, but I don't want him to know I told you."
"My lips are sealed," Shermont promised. "However, I will take my leave before any more secrets are revealed."
He bowed, but Eleanor caught his glance.
"I have no secrets worth revealing," she said with what she hoped was a nonchalant shrug.
He raised an eyebrow and would have said something, but Mina grabbed his arm, demanding his attention.
"I can't let you leave without promising me a dance tonight," she said.
"Mina!" Deidre said with a horrified expression. "A girl should never, ever ask a gentleman for a dance."
"Then how will he know I want one?" Mina replied and stuck out her bottom lip.
"Very sensible," Shermont said. "I shall be honored to ask you to dance this evening."
"And me," Deirdre said.
"A promise gladly given to both of you," he said. His gaze touched each face, but his look to Eleanor promised much more than a dance. "By your leave." He stepped back and bowed before walking away.
Mina closed the door and sagged against it. "He is sooo handsome. He makes my knees weak."
"Well, don't faint now," Deirdre said. She stood. "We have lots to do today. Change your shoes quickly. Mr. Foucalt is scheduled to start the dancing lesson in ten minutes."
Eleanor fought the urge to roll her eyes. She'd just put on her walking boots to go outside. At least her day dress was appropriate. She changed into soft leather dancing shoes, and the three of them hurried downstairs to the ballroom, where the other women of the party waited. She was disappointed to note the Austen sisters were not in attendance.
"Excellent," Mr. Foucalt said. "Now we begin." The dancing master waved the late arrivals forward.
The tall, gaunt dancing master reminded Eleanor of an exotic bird with his large hooked nose, heavy lidded dark eyes, bright yellow coat, and royal blue satin knee breeches. Sparse wisps of hair escaped his combed-forward hairdo and stuck straight up like the feathers on a parrot's head. Red stockings covered his thin legs. Eleanor suspected his talented tailor had added strategic padding to his ensemble, even to supplement the calves of his hose. Although obvious to a seamstress who had been called upon more than once to perform costume magic to make an actor look better, a casual observer would assume the man was in fantastic physical shape.
Mr. Foucalt had them stand at arm's-length in two lines six feet apart. Eleanor, Mina, Beatrix, and Fiona made one set of four, and Deirdre, Hazel, Countess Lazislov, and a mousy girl named Cecily made up the second group. Patience sat at the harpsichord in the corner, and the other chaperones sat in the chairs along the wall.
"Now take the hand of your imaginary partner," Mr. Foucalt said, demonstrating by raising his left hand to almost shoulder height, elbow slightly bent.
"My partner is Raoul Santiago De Varga, aide to the Spanish Ambassador," Mina said.
"Lieutenant Whitby," Fiona said, batting her eyelashes to her left.
Beatrix didn't have to announce, though she did, that her imaginary partner was Teddy.
"You are with Lord Shermont," Mina said to Eleanor with a knowing smile.
"No, this dance belongs to Mr. Darcy," Eleanor said.
"Your attention, please," Mr. Foucalt said, pounding his tall walking stick on the floor. "Thank you. This dance is one I composed for the Prince Regent and is now all the rage in London. I call it "On a Midsummer Night," and it is included in my new book of dances available next month from Corinthian Publishers on Fleet Street.
Maintenant
, salute your partner." He demonstrated a half turn to his left and a curtsey.
All the dancers copied him.
"Now, all take two steps forward and clasp your hands behind your back. You will promenade to your right around the men in a lively step-close-step. Right foot first. Music please.
Allez-vous."
Eleanor followed Mina, imitating her footwork, while Patience pounded out a fairly fast pace.
Mr. Foucalt called, "Right, close, right, left, close, left. Non, non, non. Mademoiselle Maxwell. Do not lift your knees so high like the prancing horse."
"How dare you," Mrs. Maxwell said, jumping up with fisted hands. "My daughter—"
"It's all right," Fiona said to her mother. "He's only trying to help me."
Mrs. Maxwell sat down, but she glared at the dancing master.
"You are gliding… gliding," he said. "Better."
As the dancers returned to their original positions, Eleanor could see why the Regent would like the dance. She could just imagine him ogling the pretty girls parading in front of him.
"And salute your partner," Mr. Foucalt said.
"Très
bien."
He rapped his stick on the floor twice and the music stopped. "Then the gentlemen will have their turn, which we will, of course, skip over."
"Perhaps you should have a gentleman demonstrate," said a deep voice. Shermont entered the ballroom from the open French doors that led to the terrace. He took the spot next to Eleanor, usurping poor imaginary Mr. Darcy.
Mr. Foucalt bowed low. "Milord. Thank you for the offer—"
"But we do not condone mixed lessons," Mrs. Maxwell said, stepping forward.
Eleanor could see her point. Who would want her daughter called a prancing horse in front of a potential husband?
"Are you French?" Shermont confronted Mr. Foucalt directly.
"I am from Belgium," the dancing master said, raising his chin. He clicked his heels together and bowed.
"Same difference, isn't it?"
"Just because that odious little Corsican annexed my country does not make me French. I have been in this country for twenty years, a political
émigré
."
"Now, if you will excuse us," Mrs. Maxwell said, a not-so-subtle hint for Shermont to skedaddle.
"There you are," Teddy called to Shermont from the door. He was backed by the entire military contin gent. "We wondered where you'd got to. Are we interrupting?" He looked around as if the gathering was a total surprise. His voice seemed hopeful rather than expressing regret.
Mrs. Holcum practically ran across the room as he spoke. She took his arm. "You are just in time," she said, towing him toward her daughter. "I think having the gentlemen participate in the dancing lesson is a marvelous idea."
The other men scrambled to take a place in the lines of dancers. Alanbrooke bowed and asked Deirdre for the honor of the dance. Parker and Whitby jockeyed for position next to Fiona, Whitby winning when she took his arm. Parker rushed down the line to partner Hazel. The countess snagged Rockingham's arm as he made his way to the heiress Cecily's side.
There was a moment of awkwardness when everyone realized Mina and Cecily stood alone.
"I think my imaginary partner Raoul is the best dancer here," Mina said. She motioned Mr. Foucalt toward Cecily. He bowed and took her hand, and she sent Mina a grateful look. Seeing she was defeated, Mrs. Maxwell retreated to the sideline.
Mr. Foucalt explained the dance, starting from the beginning, not forgetting to mention it was the Regent's current favorite, and again plugging his upcoming book. He rapped his stick on the floor, and Patience played with more enthusiasm than talent. After the gentlemen did their promenade, each couple, alternating sides, made the circuit in the same step-close-step manner. "While you are waiting your turn," he said loudly as he danced down the line with Cecily, "it is appropriate to chat with your partner."
"I missed you this morning," Shermont said to Eleanor.
"Perhaps it was for the best," she replied. "I can't shoot a bow and arrow, and I might have injured an innocent bystander."
"I missed you at archery, too," he whispered.
Eleanor hoped her blush wasn't obvious to all as she and Shermont took their turn and promenaded between the other couples. They resumed their places.
"May I have the first dance at the ball tonight?" he asked.
She shook her head. "If I count this, I know the steps to a grand total of one dance. There's no guarantee "On a Midsummer Night" will be the first dance of the evening."
"I remember another dance among the butterflies," he reminded her. The spark in his eyes said he remembered other activities as well.
"The waltz is considered too risqué and not—"
"Ah, you are wrong," he said with a smile. "I did some checking, and it seems the rules at country parties are much more lax than at Almack's."
"Even so, I truly doubt the first dance will be a waltz."
"That depends on who calls the first set. Who do you suppose will be the ranking female at the ball?"
"I have no idea," she replied. She had assumed Deirdre would be the one to open the ball and call the dances.
Shermont looked thoughtful as the steps of the dance caused them to separate and link up with the person across the line.
She raised her left hand as Teddy lifted his right, and they walked in a circle, fingertips touching.
"Unfortunately, I must open the ball, but I would dance the second set with you," Teddy said when his back was to Beatrix, a statement rather than a request.
"I must decline the honor due to lack of dancing knowledge," Eleanor replied with an insincere frown. "So sorry."
"What did he say?" Shermont asked when she returned to her starting point.
She was taken aback by the fierceness of his expression. Regency men were so possessive and presumptuous. "None of your business."
"My apologies. I phrased that wrongly. You seemed upset."
"I am quite capable of taking care of myself," she assured him as they clasped
hands across
, left hand to left and right hand to right.
"I'm sure you are." He twirled her under his arm, so their opposite hands were now on top. "That doesn't mean I can't be concerned."
They sashayed … slide, slide, slide… up the line, twirled, and then came back. While the others took turns with the same moves, they stood quietly in place.
As a grand finale, the dancers made a large circle. Each gentleman swung his partner around before twirling her under his arm and passing her to the man on his left. Another reason for Prinny to love the dance.
Eleanor went from Shermont to Teddy to Whitby, who held her too tight and stared down at her décol letage while asking her for a dance later that evening. She declined without remorse. Rockingham acted as if she were a mere imposition, his attention glued on the heiress Cecily. Foucalt swung her expertly and handed her off to Alanbrooke.
"You could smile when you step toward me," he said with a teasing sparkle in his eye.
She did just that. "Sorry. My mind was a million miles away."
"How flattering," he said in a dry tone. But he returned her smile before passing her to Parker, who stammered out his invitation to a dance that evening. She regretted she could not accept and explained her ignorance of the popular dances.
Then she had a moment to breathe with Mina's imaginary partner Raoul. Eleanor reminded herself that if she wanted to keep an eye on Shermont, she would have to mend a few fences. She approached him with a smile.
"Am I forgiven?" he asked.
"My apologies. I've gotten so used to being on my own. I forget life is different here."
"No need to apologize. I should remember you aren't like other females. I'm just glad we're back on good terms." The music ended and he bowed. "I look forward to the evening ahead." His wicked smile promised more than his polite words.