The Lady in Disguise

Chapter Ten

Emilia had often chided Prudence Crewe for — in addition to her carelessness with her clothes, hair, and everything else Emilia took great pains to maintain — her lack of concern for social graces. It was something her mother as well as Emilia had often agreed bordered on a sort of proud insolence.

"She won't listen to me. But you are younger. Perhaps she will heed you, Emilie," Lady Crewe had said. 

This was during the early days of her promotion, of course, when Lady Crewe thought having a lady's maid with a French name was the height of fashion and Emilia certainly didn't object to having a prettier, more exotic name.

As no one with the exception of Lady Crewe called her by it, sadly, it did not catch on — since half her fellow servants still insisted on calling her either Em or Sticks — and neither did her efforts with Prudence Crewe. Even with Lady Crewe's blessings to scold the girl if need be, or perhaps because of them, she remained as stubbornly averse to self-improvement and delicate manners as ever.

But at this moment, Emilia greatly envied the girl's indifference. After stumbling through two dances, her face burned with more than exertion. Prudence Crewe might have carried all of it off with her studied nonchalance, perhaps even a laugh at her own expense. She might even think such a display was all well and good, and certainly best to discourage Sir Anthony, but the impostor in her place took no enjoyment in looking or feeling like a dolt. And Sir Anthony didn't seem discouraged, anyhow, as he was nothing but smiles, curse him!

Really, that wasn't fair. He was a very pleasant man. She'd like to think, if Miss Prudence herself were here, she could certainly do worse. Or perhaps she was blinded by her gratitude after his kindness to Mopsy, and after he'd tried to be so very helpful during the dance, with his cries of "Oh, this way, Miss Crewe!" or "To your left..." or "No! The right now!"

As for her, it was an embarrassing blur of, "Oh, Sorry!" or "I thought... Oh, is this the way?" or "I'm terribly... Oh, pardon me. Is it left now?"

Their supposed reward for winning the scavenger hunt, which was choosing the first two dances the rest of the party must hop to, seemed more like a punishment when it was enacted. Sir Anthony had even quite kindly allowed her to choose both herself, so she picked ones she thought she knew well enough.

Really, she did suspect her time practicing only the gentleman's parts with Miss Charity might cause a bit of confusion, but nothing near the chaos that had resulted, which included rushing headlong into Miss Poole, nearly knocking off Lord Swinton's monocle rather than taking his hand, and then getting her shawl caught in Lady Adele's bracelet.

But that was nothing to the second dance, with the supremely awkward moment when she ended up partnering Miss Poole — the only part of the dance she got right — in place of Mr. Byrne, who seemed to take that moment to back away from the dance entirely to scowl at everyone, but probably mostly her.

And she tried, how she tried, to laugh it away when Mrs. Baddeley stopped playing and they all fell into a bewildered mass of bows and curtsies. "I'm so very sorry if I... Well, if..." She'd started talking in the hopes she might be able to muster up some sort of clever rejoinder, but with them all staring at her, she only ended up dipping her head and finishing on a mutter, "I'm so very sorry."

"No need to apologize," Sir Anthony assured her with a laugh. "I found your movements wildly inventive. Who would have thought a staid old country dance could have such twists and turns?"

Lady Adele leaned toward Miss Poole, saying on a giggle, "Je pensais qu'elle danserait aussi avec moi. Mais je n'ai pas eu mon tour."

Miss Poole laughed as well. "Peut-être une autre fois," she answered as the both of them glanced Emilia's way, giggling together now.