Florence and Mr. Belmont

Chapter 3

The Hamington Ball was a huge sensation each season. There was nothing strange about it. The only strange thing was that Arthur Wimbleton also received an invitation.

"Lucinda, Hamington's mother, must be the only reason why I received an invitation." Arthur chuckled. "The poor old lady likes me to death." Arthur took a loud sip of his tea.

"If she likes you to death then why doesn't she know that you can't move for the next couple of weeks?" Olivier asked.

Arthur shrugged and simply said "Love is blindness". On that matter Olivier had no opinion. He certainly has never been in love. Although he imagined he would like to have a little family himself. A small cottage in the country would be fine. With a nice wife and two or three children. While Olivier pondered about his future, Adrienne came into the drawing room.

"Olivier is going to the Hamington Ball" Arthur announced. Olivier choked on his tea. "Am I?" he asked.

"Oh how, wonderful. You will find some friends here in London." Adrienne beamed.

"That's what I thought, too. Or at least he could see how Londoner society works." Arthur took another loud sip.

"But I have never been to a Ball!" he protested. He could not even imagine how a Londoner Ball looks like. He could not even dance. The D'Armoinets were sometimes invited to some local Ball in France, but they never took him with them.

"I have been to 1043 smaller or larger balls. Trust me, I can teach you a thing or two."

***

Two days later he was standing in the large Ballroom of the Hamingtons. So this was a ball. Hundreds of candles lightened the room, giving it a rather light pink shade. All the guests were gracefully dressed. He himself didn't look so bad. Adrienne had practically drugged him to the dressmaker, who had made for him a fashionable gray suit. He noticed the food tables. He was in heaven. He tried all the different pastries, while trying to look as normal as he could. How much was proper to eat? Was it too much if he tried all of them? Damn, Arthur had forgotten to tell him the most important facts.

After his sixth or seventh pastry he noticed an old lady approaching him.

"You must be Mr Belmont, Lord Wimbleton's grandnephew!" the gray haired lady exclaimed. Was this Lady Hamington? Probably.

"How is poor Lord Wimbleton doing?" she asked with concern. For a moment Olivier wanted to joke that he was on his honeymoon with his new wife. But breaking an old lady's heart was a cruel thing to do, right?

"He is slowly recovering. He tripped on the steps and now he has a broken arm and leg, so I guess that takes time." he explained and smiled.

"Dear Lord!" Lady Hamington clapped her hands before her month.

"You should pay him a visit. He would be delighted to see you." Olivier casually added.

The old lady's eyes lightened up. "Really?"

"Yes. He told me himself that he was lately wishing to see you." Olivier tried to sound as convincing as he should. Balls could be actually fun.

"I will" the lady said and with dreamy eyes she excused herself. She probably went over to the other old ladies to tell them the news. Olivier smiled. He liked to make people happy. Even if it's just for a moment.

After a while of watching people dancing, Olivier got a bit bored. What else was here to do? He noticed a corridor behind him. So without thinking he started to walk down the corridor. So this was how wealthy people lived in London, he thought. Definitely not bad, but it wasn't his taste. He turned onto another corridor. And then he heard a woman scream. The corridor was a bit dark, but he could see two people ahead of him. He continued silently walking. A young man and woman were apparently having an argument. Should he leave them alone? Another thing Arthur had forgotten to tell him. The man grabbed the lady's wrist. Was he supposed to help the lady? That's what a gentleman did, right?

"It's all your fault!" the unknown man screamed at her. The woman was no older than 20 years old. She took her wrist back and crossed her arms. "You are crazy! Now go and leave me alone!" she said in a sharp voice. Well, the lady didn't need saving. Olivier decided to hide behind a door frame. Soon he heard footsteps and saw the man leaving. He needed to say something.

"Are you alright?" Olivier took a step toward the lady.

"Yes, of course." She bit back and looked at her shoes. She was quite beautiful. She had blond hair. Her gown was light blue.

"Would you like to return to the Ballroom?" he offered, because he could not bear the silence. She nodded and started walking.

"Are you french?" she suddenly asked. So it was obvious after all that he was french.

"Yes." he admitted and continued "You should be more careful"

"And you should not listen to other people's conversations," she retorted. Point for her. They walked another few steps in silence.

"I am sorry, I didn't mean to be rude" she started. "It was Lord Mackelbury." After a short break she added "My fiance".