Bewitching The Recluse [BOOK 2 of Price Family Saga]

3. Chapter (The Ball At Lady Kendall's)

Bella had been discreetly surveying the assembly, hoping to chance upon a familiar countenance adorned with a small, distinctive scar — as her confidante, Lady Lorraine Rosewell, kept making jests on her account. While Lorraine was of age with her sister Eliza, their personalities resonated more closely with Isabella's, fostering a deep bond between them.

"It seems rather apparent, my dear Bella, that you're smitten to the core," remarked Lorraine.

Bella let out a wistful sigh and turned to her friend.

"You're the second person to impart such wisdom upon me. Yet, it's been well over a year, and still, he remains oblivious to my true identity, offering no response to the numerous letters I've dispatched."

"So, what course of action shall you pursue?" inquired Lorraine, her curiosity piqued.

Bella, her shoulders gently rising and falling, responded, "There remains but one recourse - a direct inquiry of his sentiments."

"But what if he were to spurn your advances?" Lorraine pressed.

As Bella contemplated this inquiry, Lorraine's gaze shifted beyond her, her countenance darkening.

"It seems you may not like this, Bella," Lorraine began, but her words were cut short as Bella turned her gaze in the same direction. 

There, she too had the opportunity to observe Travis, engaged in conversation with Eliza. His countenance seemed to radiate, his eyes dancing with a lively spirit, and his undivided attention was unmistakably directed at her older sister. Bella was overcome with a feeling that he had never regarded her in such a way before, and a pang of envy and jealousy seeped into her soul. They had encountered each other randomly outside the grand balls in the city and at other social gatherings, and he had been most amiable every time. His smile had the power to melt her heart, filling her with the hope that, just maybe, one day...

She quickly turned back to Lorraine, endeavouring to steady herself amidst the tumultuous emotions that raged within her.

"Are you quite well, my dear?" Lorraine inquired, her concern etched on her face.

Isabella nodded but continued to watch the two of them. After a while, Travis excused himself as Eliza's friends joined their company, and he departed to greet others, including the venerable matron Lady Kendall.

"May I humbly request this dance, Lady Price?" a robust, masculine voice inquired next to her.

As Bella didn't respond, her friend gently nudged her.

"May I have the honour of this dance, Lady Price?" the voice repeated, this time with a touch of impatience. Bella finally tore her gaze away from Travis.

Before she stood Lord Davenport, a man of her father's generation. He had recently lost his wife and seemed to be in search of a new companion and his slick demeanour disgusted Bella, causing her skin to crawl.

"Apologies, Lord Davenport, but I await your son - he pledged me a dance and then vanished. Is this the manner in which gentlemen in your esteemed family are brought up?"

Lord Davenport's countenance stiffened. He offered a curt nod and departed without uttering a word.

"That was rather harsh, Bella," Lorraine commented, her expression one of surprise.

Before Bella could respond, Lord Roché approached them and requested Lorraine's company for a dance.

"Um... yes, of course," Lorraine replied, taken aback, as she allowed him to escort her onto the dance floor.

Men were not inclined to request Lorraine's company for a dance, and on those rare occasions they did, they were often older, more seasoned gentlemen in the mould of Lord Davenport. The probable cause lay in the fact that she did not conform to the prevailing fashion. Her countenance, with its plump cheeks, and her figure, graced with a full bosom, rounded hips, and shapely thighs, stood in stark contrast to the prevailing trends of sylphlike grace. Her own sisters found amusement in jesting about her robust form, and her parents, despite her youthful years, had ceased to conceal their concerns, lamenting her unmarried state as if she were an ageing spinster.