Chapter 7

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“I am a slow walker, but I never walk back.” Abraham Lincoln

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Chapter Seven

Emmett’s temperament was very cool as the Wilde family crossed over the threshold of Salisbury Hall. He was still quite put out with Simon, though he was determined to be polite for the sake of their hosts.

Salisbury Hall was not large enough to accommodate the sorts of balls that Ascot hosted, but there was still ample space to hold a warm, welcoming assembly for Colonel Simon Spencer.

“His Grace, the Duke of Ascot, Her Grace, the Duchess of Ascot, Master David Wilde, Her Royal Highness, Infanta Elena of Spain, the Lady Alexandra Wilde, and the Lady Imogen Wilde,” called the announcer as the Wildes entered the ballroom.

Imogen, while on her father’s arm, noticed a slight blush in Elena’s cheeks. It was so widely known in England that a Spanish princess was among the English aristocracy. She no longer had to introduce herself as she was so recognisable. But Imogen knew that at times she would prefer to enter a ballroom as Mrs Wilde, without any preconceptions that she was above anyone else in the room.

Emmett was escorting both Bess and Imogen. Imogen had been practicing her walking, travelling further and further each day. She often walked about her bedroom, slowly, of course, and she had even ventured down the hallway into Alexandra’s bedchamber. Imogen had not yet managed the stairs. She had not been game enough to try just yet. She could only picture herself climbing halfway before fainting, and then what would her parents say?

The ballroom was lively and exciting. The dancers were energetically prancing around in their synchronised circuits while others enjoyed cheerful conversation and champagne which the footmen were bringing around on silver trays.

Several pairs of eyes were suddenly on Alexandra. She was looking particularly beautiful. The fabric of her gown was a deep cyan colour and it clung to her slim, hourglass figure perfectly. She really was one of the most attractive women in their social group. It was such a shame she refused every gentleman who paid her any attention. She could surely secure herself a fine husband if she let go of her beloved Spaniard. But Imogen knew her sister, and she knew that Alexandra would never give up. The news that he might possibly be travelling to England for the christening of his nieces had only increased her faith in him.

Imogen, as usual, refused a dance card. Her time at balls was occupied mostly on her father’s arm. She listened to conversations between gentlemen twice her age and nodded and smiled when appropriate. Then she would watch enviously as women her own age danced about with a different partner every five minutes.

Alexandra stayed with Imogen and their parents as they began to converse with the family’s many acquaintances. Eventually, they found their way to James and Rebecca, who welcomed them warmly.

“Have you seen Simon anywhere?” James asked Emmett quietly.

Emmett pursed his lips. “No. Why?” he muttered.

James did not seem to notice Emmett’s distaste. “He was here for the briefest of moments and we have not seen him since. This is his ball and he is absent.”

“I invited as many unmarried women as I could,” added Rebecca, “and I have not made a single introduction.” She was clearly quite eager to introduce her brother-in-law to the single young ladies in her acquaintance.

Imogen circled the ballroom with her parents and sister, every so often glancing around to see if Simon had resurfaced. He had not. Her eyes would then find her brother and sister-in-law dancing away. After an hour, she quietly asked her father if she might step outside with Alexandra for some air.

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